#Like. It's not enough to notice someone has cat hair on their clothes and conclude they have a cat

[richricciardo]

The Camera Of Tomorow

Fiction - Mystery - Thriller - Old Fashion 

Ryan Perkins is a gentle and quiet thirty-one-year-old office worker who likes collecting antiques. He lives in New York City and is well acquainted with the antique shops there. However, this afternoon while walking to the convenience store, he looks down an alley. He notices an old-fashioned symbol of three gold balls hanging over a door signifying a pawnshop. He hadn’t seen that particular sign in years and, with caution and curiosity, enters the alley to have a look.

          The alley is a narrow, dirty dead end with all the trash cans so packed that it looks as if they haven’t been emptied in a long time.  Ryan startles a cat that yowls loudly at being disturbed.  Then, careful of where he is stepping, he moves toward the recessed door and stops.  A dim light shines through the grime on the door’s glass window, just enough to read the lettering, “Pawn and Loans-proprietor G.Schmit.” Try as he might, Ryan can’t see clearly enough through the grime to tell what is inside the store. He looks back toward the entrance, thinking of leaving, when he realizes that he has turned the doorknob and pushed the door open enough to cause a small bell above it to announce his arrival.

          Stepping inside, Ryan makes a quick observation and concludes that this pawnshop is very old indeed. Four old fashion lights hang down from the tin embossed ceiling. The walls are painted a dark tan with rich deep walnut wainscoting halfway up. Ryan notices that all the display cabinets and counters are full of antiques, most extremely old and in excellent condition.  He looks around the shop slack-jawed, wishing he had enough money to buy its entire contents, when he hears a voice with a slight German accent call.

          “May I help you?”

          Startled, Ryan turns and sees someone standing inside the broker’s cage that he hadn’t noticed before.  Approaching the counter, Ryan sees that the broker is a small old grey-haired man wearing a green visor and arm garters while smoking a vintage Hubertu pipe. Ryan finds the smoke from the pipe intoxicating as he apologizes to the keeper, “I’m so sorry.  Please accept my apologies.  I didn’t see you standing there.” The broker merely slowly blinks his sad Bassett hound eyes and smiles slightly.

          “I am so surprised to have discovered your shop!”  Ryan exclaims excitedly. “I thought I knew every antique store in the city. Have you been here long?”

          The little man takes a long pull on his pipe, causing it to crackle loudly.  Then, as he exhales, he responds, “Since 1903.” Ryan is surprised by the date but now understands why there are so many antique items in the store.

          “The alley out front used to be a throughway from Broadway to West 236th street until the city built dat large post office over there, cutting the street down to the dead-end alley it is today. Consequently, not many people know I’m here.” The pawnbroker returns his pipe to his mouth for another drag.

          Ryan tells the pawnbroker that he is an antique collector and is quite impressed by the many exquisite items and jewelry he sees here.

          “Ya,” he responds. We’ve been in business for a long time but have not traded in too much modern stuff.  So please take your time and look around. If you see anything you are interested in, just ask, and I’ll do mine best to tell you about it.”

          Ryan thanks him and begins looking around at the treasure trove before him. He studies the jewelry with so many items looking like they were made in the early nineteen hundreds.  So many gems are huge diamonds set in what has to be fourteen karat gold. He browses among the steamer trunks, some with clothing still inside, and is amazed at the travel stickers because they looked as though they were just placed there yesterday. Ryan’s eyes grow large when he sees an old bellows-type camera on a shelf with other old Brownies. It reminds him of a late eighteen ninety-six Marion and Company camera. When he lifts it from the counter, he is amazed to discover that a thick metal box has been attached. Turning it over in his hands, he can’t see the manufacturer’s name and turns to the old man for help.

          “Mr. Schmit, pardon me, but what can you tell me about this camera?  Unfortunately, I don’t see a name or patent number on it.”

          Schmit smiles from one corner of his mouth, his pipe hanging from the other.

          “You have an excellent eye, mine friend, for dat is a very rare piece indeed. One of a kind, actually. It was invented by a man named Hollenberg in the late nineteen hundreds. The box on the bottom is supposed to develop the picture right on the spot. No need to take it to a photography studio.”

          “You mean like a Polaroid?”

          “Err, sure. And it worked too. The problem was that no one believed him.  They all thought he was mad or dat the camera was some sort of trick camera like a magician would use, so no one was interested in it.  Having spent his life savings building the camera, creating the right chemicals to develop the photo, and transferring it to the proper paper, he ended up penniless. He brought the camera to me, and I gave him one hundred dollars for it. It was the least I could do.”

          Puzzled, Ryan asked, “Did you say you gave him one hundred dollars?”

          Flustered, Schmit exclaimed, “What? Did I say dat?  Oh no, no, no. It was mine grandfather who did dat.  You’ll have to forgive me, you see.  I’ve been here so long and know all the stories about every item dat it seems like I was the one to make the transaction, you see?”

          Ryan nods in acknowledgment and asks, How much do you want for it?”

          The old broker puffs on his pipe a few times while considering a price and finally replies, “Seeing as it is a rare one of a kind piece, I think twelve hundred dollars would be a fair price, ya?”  

          Ryan turns the camera around in his hands a few times and, glancing up, asks, “You say you have all the pieces that go with it and that it still works, yes?”

          “Ya, ya it stills works.”

          “Then I’ll take it!” exclaims Ryan and removes a credit card from his wallet. Upon seeing the piece of plastic, the broker seems confused and says he only takes cash or maybe a check if Ryan has one. Ryan just so happens to have his checkbook with him and writes out a check for Mr. Schmit. Schmit disappears into the back room and soon returns with all the accessories for the camera in a box.

          “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, “er, “ Schmit stops to scan the check for Ryan’s name, “Mr. Perkins.”

          “Oh no, the pleasure is all mine, Mr.Schmit, and I promise to be back soon to buy more!” Then, as Ryan opens the door to leave, Schmit calls out to him.

          “I almost forgot to tell you that all sales are final. I hope you understand.” Ryan nods and leaves.

          Schmit hears the bell above his door tinkle wildly as Perkins bursts in two days later.

           “I’m sorry, Mr. Perkins, but I did say all sales are final, ya?”

          “Yes, yes. But that’s not why I’m here! This camera, there’s something wrong with it.” Perkins pauses to catch his breath and puts the camera on the counter. “Mr. Schmit, every time I take a picture, the picture that develops is not the same one I’ve taken!  For example, I took a picture of the apartment building across from me, which was fine, but the picture I got back showed it on fire! It clearly was not, for I was looking right at it. I then went downstairs and shot a picture of the intersection at the corner. The traffic was flowing smoothly, but the resulting photo showed a five-car accident with one dead body lying in the street!”

          Schmit raises his hand to stop Perkins, “Dat was the problem Hollenberg was having trying to get buyers to believe him. He called it the camera of tomorrow because it only took pictures of things that hadn’t happened yet but would in the future.  So that’s why no one would believe him or thought he was trying to hoodwink them for a fast buck.” Perkins’s color pales as he reaches into his inside jacket pocket and removes a photo to hand it to Schmit.

          “Then, Mr. Schmit, can you kindly explain this?”

          Schmit looks at the picture and says, “Hmm.” Then he walks to the front door and locks it. Upon returning, he tells Perkins that he had better sit down. Schmit goes behind the counter and comes back with a bent and creased photo, the same as Perkins but older. Both pictures show Ryan Perkins lying on the pawnshop floor with a bullet hole in his forehead and a pool of blood behind him.

          Perkins cries out, “What does it mean!”

          “I’ll tell you what it means. Back in nineteen o five, when I pawned the camera for Mr. Hollenberg, I took a picture of mine shop to see how it worked. What I got was this picture of you, Mr. Perkins. As I’ve already explained earlier, picture rendering always comes true. You just don’t know when. It could be in a couple of hours or days or even years.” Schmit’s demeanor changed from calm to rage in a manner of seconds.

          “DAT MEANS I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO WALK THROUGH DAT DOOR FOR A HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN YEARS!  I have been trapped in the time by the camera so it can complete its forecasted future event. You and I are going to end this hellish nightmare right now! Schmit points a small pistol at Perkins, who covers his face, sobbing.

          Schmit has genuine compassion for Perins and explains that he tried to take his own life in the past and failed. He then placed the gun barrel to his temple and pulled the trigger three times, click, click, click. Then to prove his point, he fires a single shot into the pawnshop ceiling with a loud bang. Finally, as dust and dirt drift down, Schmit says through tears, “See? I don’t want to, but I have no choice. I am so sorry. You see, Mr. Perkins, it can’t be changed once the photograph is developed. It WON’T be changed! The course is set and will not be completed until everything is as in the picture.” Schmit points the gun at Ryan and pulls the trigger.

           Perkins falls from the stool he is sitting on and lands on the black and white checked floor as a pool of blood forms around his head.

          Almost immediately, the whole pawnshop starts to change and crumble, catching up to the present time.

          A few weeks later, the convenience store owner phones the police to complain about a terrible stench that seems to be coming from the alleyway. Upon investigation, they discover in an old store the remains of Ryan Perkins, seemingly an apparent victim of a robbery gone wrong. One of the coroner’s assistants comments on how the old store looks as if it had been a pawnshop at one time and picks up a curious-looking camera.

          “Hey, Charlie, look at this. I collect old cameras, but I’ve never seen one like this before. Do you think anyone would notice if I took it?

          Charlie says, “Nay, but if it still works will you take my picture with it?  I’d like to see how I would have looked in a tintype.” Both men laugh and place the camera on the stretcher along with Mr. Perkins.

[lexicals]

I feel like the reason a lot of holmes adaptations miss the mark (aside from characterisation) is the fact that a lot of them have a fundamental misunderstanding of what deductive reasoning actually is

#wastepaper basket #Like. It's not enough to notice someone has cat hair on their clothes and conclude they have a cat #The whole point of deduction is that you're removing options from the pool #So instead you have to ask what is every possible circumstance that could have led to this person having cat hair on their clothes #And then Rule Each One Out One By One. Which takes so much more time and energy bc you're not assuming literally anything #Which is why everyone thinks he's so fucking weird and why he does shit like collect ash samples of 50 different types of cigar #Like what these adaptations miss is the amount of WORK it takes to fully commit to that operating method. Holmes isn't (just) smart #He puts in hours of research so that when someone points at a swan and claims it's a swan #He can say 'ah but we can't know that until we've ruled out EVERYTHING IT ISN'T' and have the evidence to get that done #Which is ridiculous but also means he can consider the batshit options without bias bc well. They haven't ruled it out yet #I got more heated abt this than I expected. #I just think holmes adaptations would be better & more interesting if they rly committed to the mantra of #'When you've eliminated the impossible whatever remains however improbable must be the truth' #Rather than just jumping to the most improbable option bc he's just so smart! Which misses the whole point #Elementary did this well fwiw iirc #Anyway. Sorry I poked an old hyperfixation and this came out #Also sorry I forgot the more important thing: make it gay

[lavenderwhore444]

God Im pretty sure I’m going to hell ANYWAYS ok so this is a hybrid cat shigaraki, u end up adopting shigaraki from a very abuses owner so our little kitten is traumatized and terrified of everything, it took u a bit of time until he was comfortable with u , he doesn’t trust u in the beginning and thinks ur gonna do the same as his previous owner did but ur different u were so patient, sweet and soft not to mention he LOVED getting head pets from u ( he would never admit it tho) once shigaraki found out that he was in love with u he was stuck to ur hip ( he was super clingy) shigaraki’s heat was closer then expected, shigaraki didn’t want to ruin his chances with u but he couldn’t stop himself from humping everything so he hid in his room , you absolutely loved shigaraki since the day u saw him u knew u wanted him, when u first met him he scratched and hissed at u he was terrified, it honestly made u sick knowing the person who did this to him is still alive, u both got much closer he even started cuddling with u!!!! U soon fell in love with shiggy but u didn’t want to ruin what u guys have so u kept it to ur self , u noticed shigaraki was acting weird and hid in his room for two days at first u thought u might give him some space but u started getting worried u wanted to check on him before u came in u heard some little moans and whines, it just hit u that ur little kitten has there heat, u decided to help out 👀

Kinks pet-play of course dom reader and sub shigaraki maybe some pegging that’s all I can think of so feel free to add any kinks. I was listening to hello kitty by Avril Lavigne there was part where she says “ come come kitty kitty your so pretty pretty” that was inspired me to write this lmaooo 

-🤡

HELLO KITTY

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q.

InteractiveFics

Master List

Samesies, but it's ok, we’ll go to hell together 😫

Now you might be wondering, Claire, why did this take you literal MONTHS? Well, I wanted to perfect it. I love this concept so much that I just HAD to spend so much time on it to make it perfect. And let me just say, it's pretty good 😏

Warnings: vaginal sex, overstimulation (male), anal sex with strapon, heat, pillow humping, marking mating, whatever you want to call it.

I've decided I'm obsessed with making cat shiggy meow ☺️

‘Where the fuck am I?’ Is shigaraki’s first thought of the day.

He’s never been on a bed this soft or a house this warm. Where is he? The blankets are all fuzz. The bed is littered with stuffed animals and pillows, and sweet-smelling candles, are burning somewhere. Is he being sacrificed?

“Hey, you're awake, ” a soft voice says, coming from the end of the bed.

He recoils in fear but, upon second glance, he sees that you aren't who he thinks you are. A girl replaces the scary form of his “master.” he looks you up and down. He has to admit you are quite pretty. The sight of someone other than the large man who used to own him excites him. Maybe this is a fresh start? But perhaps you're just like him...

“Get the fuck away from me, ” he snaps, scrambling into a corner.

“It's okay, sweetie, ” you say, “I'm not gonna hurt you, ”

“Everyone says that, meow ” Shigaraki retorts, “get the fuck away before I scratch your eyes out, ”

You bite your lip, “ok, Tomura, I'm gonna sit with you for a while, though. I'll be right across the room if you need anything, ”

“I don't need shit from you, ” he says, hissing making a show of his claws.

You laughed a little, more than a bit sad at his fear, “alright, but I’ll still be here, ”

He sits in silence for a moment, surveying his surroundings. He notices fresh clothes in the dresser, and there are some game consoles set up for him. How do you know he likes video games? Fucking creep. There aren't really any escape routes but escaping is complicated when he doesn't know where he is.

“Where am I meow?” he asks, sounding meeker than intended.

“I guess I kind of adopted you, ” you explain, “we’re at our house, ”

“Why did you do that?” he asks, the edge coming back to his voice.

“You just seemed so sweet, and the man who owned you was so mean. I couldn't just leave you there; he was hurting you, ” you say, frowning a little at the thought of Tomura getting hurt.

"Why do you care?" he snaps.

You sit closer to him, making him tense.

"I already told you, I think you're sweet Tomura," you repeat, "I just can't explain it. I'd really like it if we could become friends,"

'Or maybe more,' you think to yourself.

You can't deny he is very attractive.

"How do I know you're not lying meow?" He asks.

"I think you'll just have to trust me. Do you want to play some games with me?" you ask.

"Fine," he says, "only cause I'm bored,"

You grin, "awesome. What should we play?"

Shigaraki stands up and walks over to the games, tail swaying.

"This," he says, holding up animal crossing, "you probably like it cause it's dumb. What's your name anyway?" he asks.

"I'm y/n," you answer.

"I guess your names not awful, meow”, he mutters.

Truthfully, he already thinks you're beautiful, and you seem so kind. Shigaraki sits unusually close to you on the bed as the two of you play. You play late into the night; he makes a good bit of progress. Eventually, you feel his head rest on your shoulder, and he falls asleep on you.

You ease Tomura into your lap.

"There we go," you whisper, "you're safe now,"

Little did you know he's wide awake, smiling to himself and nuzzling his head closer to you. The sound of soft purring fills your ears as he drifts off into the most peaceful sleep.

He's pretty disgruntled when he wakes up alone. Where have you gone? Shigaraki doesn't have to wonder for long when you come back with a plate of food.

"Hey, are you hungry?" you ask, setting a plate of food on the table next to him.

He nods, digging in right away. You watch him eat like a man starved. Honestly, he might have been. He puts the plate down and moves closer to you. He's beginning to trust you more and more.

"Tomura, ” you say, “I have to put a collar on you now, just in case you get lost, ok?” you push some hair out of his face, “id be so sad if I lost you, ”

“fine, meow” he mumbles.

Truthfully his heart is melting at the thought. That you aren’t embarrassed by him, that you want to keep him safe and close to you. When you click the collar into place he hugs you, tugging at your shirt.

It’s shocking how fast he’s becoming comfortable with you but definitely pleasing. The next few days are calm, spent lounging around the house. He‘s getting so trusting with you. He occasionally pushes his head beneath your hand so you scratch his head. He always denies it, though; he has a tough-guy exterior to keep up.

However, something changes within him. He feels a strange warmth, not a necessarily bad feeling, around you. Tomura knows what cats were supposed to do. They are supposed to cuddle and play with their owners. Should he be doing that? Should he act like a “normal cat”? He concludes that you don’t want that at all. The lack of cat toys, a cat tree, and you allowing him to eat at the table solidify that.

However, he does want to cuddle. He tries to cuddle like all the time. But you have work, and you get tired, and you run errands, and he becomes sad. Tomura knows you have a life outside of him, but you really shouldn't. He should be your only priority. When Christmas break finally rolls around, and you start spending more time at the house, he's elated.

He has internet access, of course. He needs it to play his video games! But it was restricted. You don’t want your little kitty to see things he’s not supposed to. He starts to like watching movies too. At first, they‘re action movies with lots of blood and fighting, which you don’t necessarily agree with, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. He slowly gets bored with them and stumbles across a romance movie.

Tomura becomes engrossed in them. He loves watching the couple fall in love and be happy. One movie, in particular, weirds him out. It looks like they were taking off their clothes. They start kissing and making strange noises. He doesn't like it one bit, it makes his cheeks feel hot, and his cock gets semi-hard. He turns it off immediately.

It doesn’t take long for him to forget about it and keep watching different ones. Soon he finds some similarities between him and the main character. The way they feels around their love interest is the same way he feels around you. Is he in love with you?! It seems so and you have just recently come to the same conclusion as him.

Soon he’s all over you, following you everywhere. Tomura pushes open your door every night and snuggling up to you. He’ll purr and nuzzle into you, happy sighs escaping him. Whenever he “accidentally” wakes you up, you never get mad at him. You just cuddle him and talk all night, giggling and talking until you both fall asleep.

Oddly enough, you‘re oblivious to his feelings for you. Whenever he cuddles with you, you hold back the urge to kiss him on the lips. You don’t want him to feel awkward around you. Soon he starts acting strange without any change in behavior from you. He stops coming in your room at night and wont come out of his room.

You don't want to be overbearing, so you give him space...for a while. Meanwhile, in his room, Tomura is lying naked on the bed, panting and sweating. He feels strange, just like he did when he was watching that movie. He doesn't understand what‘s happening to his body but when he humps his pillow it feels like an itch is being scratched. The first time he cums he‘s terrified and lets out a scared “meow!”

But it feels so good. The feeling doesn't go away, so he decides the only solution is to keep humping. Soon he‘s limp but still grinding his hips on the poor pillow. He takes deep whiffs of your sweater, huffing it like a drug. His tongue is lolling out of his mouth and his eyes are rolling back in his head. He‘s starting to hurt down there but he just can't stop cumming.

Oh, why can't he reach the phone you left in his room? Why is his voice too hoarse to call out to you? Tomura is scared. He can’t eat or sleep. Sweat has soaked into the mattress and his poor little cock is starting to hurt. You‘re getting worried too so you wander up to his room and callout to him, pressing your ear to the door.

“y/n meow,” he calls out hoarsely, almost a whisper.

All you can hear are desperate whines and moans. Is Tomura...in heat? Oh, your poor kitty is probably in so much pain! You have to help him, so you open the door and see him. It is a pathetic (yet erotic) sight. He looks so desperate. He‘s crying and looks so scared. Tomura just whines and reaches out to you even though he‘s far away.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you whisper.

You walk over to him and scoop him up, sitting him on your lap. He continues to try and hump you, but you can tell how much his poor dick hurts. You hug him tightly, feeling guilty that you took so long to check on him.

Tomura tugs at your shirt, he can't figure out why he wants you to take off your clothes, but he does. You oblige, ready to do anything your sweet kitten wants. When he sees your top half naked, he feels his cock beg for you. He starts to tug aimlessly at your pants, and you take them off, once again, all too eager to please.

He doesn't have any sexual knowledge, but he has instincts, pure carnal instincts that tell him just how to breed his mate’s tight pussy. Tomura grabs your hips, his claws accidentally puncturing the skin. You yelp as he pulls you on top of him. When he slams you down onto his long fat cock he doesn't get the rush of pleasure he expected.

He's hit with an extreme amount of pain and lets out a panicked meow. You lift yourself off of him quickly, and Tomura misses the feeling of your cunt even though it caused him so much pain. He paws at you, but you keep him from shoving himself in you again.

“Tomura,” you say softly, “you need to calm down; you're hurting yourself,”

“Meow! need!” he cries.

“So needy,” you mutter, “youre just gonna hurt yourself,”

“Don’t care! Need!” he begs.

“Hold on,” you say, getting up and ignoring the insistent pawing at your shirt as he whines.

You rifle through your drawers until you find the dildo you got and the free strap-on attachment that came with it. You smile and gran some lube; this is exactly what you need for your pretty kitty. He watches with curious eyes and blown out pupils due to pure lust.

“Let's give your poor cock a break,” you say.

He nods, but where are you going to put that? You climb onto the bed with him, and he hugs you, sucking on your tit. He feels so at peace. Your boobs are so soft and pretty. He wants to stay like this forever. But when Tomura feels those nimble fingers of yours start to trail across his lower back just above his ass he shivers.

He leaves open-mouthed kisses across your chest; he lets them get sloppy and wet as you rub his back.

“Need,” he whispers again, eyes half-lidded.

You tilt Tomura’s head up and give him his first proper kiss. He's seen this in movies and knows you're supposed to say “I love you” after...right? He doesn't know the full meaning of the three little words he's about to say.

“I love you y/n,” he says when you pull away.

“I love you too,” you say, taken aback just a bit.

He gives you a love-drunk smile and tries to rut against your thigh but yelps again, remembering how sensitive he is.

“C’mere pretty kitty,” you coo, “lay on your back for me,”

He nods and lays on his back, painfully aware of how exposed he is to your careful, calculating eyes. He starts purring when you muzzle your head into his neck. Are you going to mark him?! Do you really want him to be your mate?! Oh, he hopes so! He smiles, and his breathing picks up, but his ears flatten on his head when you pull away.

“No mate meow?” Tomura asks, face falling.

For the first time all day, he feels his cock soften sadly. He doesn't understand the look of confusion on your face and tears up a bit.

“I'm not sure I understand,” you say, brushing some hair out of his face and feeling guilty when you see his teary eyes.

“I want you to mark me,” he says, bottom lip quivering, “please meow?”

Your eyes widen, “oh,” maybe you did learn something useful in school, “of course honey,”

You lean down again, unsure of how hard to bite his neck. You can tell exactly where you're supposed to bite. A strong musky smell radiates from the side of his neck and you decide to sink your teeth in until you break skin. When you do, he sighs happily at the feeling of your admittedly dull teeth (in comparison to his) in his neck.

“Mate,” he purrs.

You pull away when you can tell he's satisfied. He pulls you in for another kiss, tasting some of his blood on your tongue. He doesn't notice your fingers traveling to the bottle of lube on the bed and pumping some onto your fingers. He does notice when you start to rub around where you're not supposed to.

“Hey! What are you doing, meow?!” Tomura says, squirming at the strange new sensation.

When you find your mark and circle his asshole, any objections he just made the in the past. When he feels your finger begin to sink into his tight hole, he sighs happily. He isn't supposed to be the one getting penetrated, but he can't help how much he loves the feeling of your finger wiggling around inside of him.

When you add in another finger, he meows happily, grinding on your fingers. All this pleasure without the pain, what has he done to deserve this? To deserve you? Tomura’s back arches as he moves his hips; he can feel himself coming to a different kind of climax, but you pull away right when he's on the edge.

He looks up at you with pleading eyes and trembling thighs. He sees you putting that strange liquid on something much larger and gulps. He feels his asshole gape around nothing, waiting for something to fill it up.

“Is that going inside me, meow?” he asks nervously.

“It won't hurt,” you say, cupping his face, “i promise,”

Tomura gulps but nods. He trusts you. When the head of the dildo pushes into him he's tense and panting already.

“You have to relax,” you whisper in his ear, “be a good boy and relax,”

He tries, letting the nervous knot in his stomach untangle. His breathing slows as you push in more of the dildo. It starts to feel good, having you in some of him, and it's even better when the head of the dildo hits a spot that makes him mewl. He wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you down to him, causing you to poke his prostate again.

He moans and buries his face in your neck, purring loudly. You start to move your hips at an agonizingly slow pace. You worm your arms under him and hold him close while you help him adjust. He's planting and mewling happily.

“Love you,” he moans, “I love you so much y/n,”

“I love you too, Tomura,” you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear.

“It's so good,” he groans, “you're amazing meow. The perfect mate,”

“Yeah?” you say, too focused to respond.

He nods, “the best ever,”

You keep thrusting, speeding up just a bit. That makes Tomura yelp happily. His tongue lolls out as he smiles. There's not one thought behind those beautiful red eyes—just pure pleasure. It's taking over his entire body and he can't help but meow happily.

He likes to think of himself as more refined than most hybrids. More human, but all he can think of now is how wonderful being your little kitty is.

“I'm gonna cum,” he whimpers, “gonna cum, meow”

His dick quivers, and his asshole clenches as cum spurts out of him, but it's still not enough. To satiate his desires, he needs to be inside of you when he cums. When you pull out of him slowly and remove the strap on, he bites the bullet and plunges into you, ignoring the pain that makes him sob and absolutely hammers into you.

You're helpless underneath him as he has his way with you. You can't deny how good he feels inside of you. Tomura hates how long he's lasting. He needs to get this over with, although having you cum on his cock would be pretty nice. When he feels you worm your fingers down to your clit he starts to be thankful he hasn't lost his mind and cum yet.

That look on your face makes him so happy. He wants you to be happy. He wants you to cum, so he holds out until you milk his cock with your cunt. And when he lets go it's heavenly. The itch has been scratched, and he collapses on top of you, purring as his tail twitches. You scratch behind his ears to help him get some much-needed rest.

It works nearly immediately, and your sweet kitty is asleep in mere minutes. You love Tomura more than you can put into words, and he loves his pretty little mate. His adorable little y/n.

#fluff #mha shigaraki #mha tomura #tomura x y/n #tomura imagine #tomurashigaraki #tomura fluff #tomura smut #tomura x reader #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki tomura #bnha tomura #tomura x you #boku no hero academia tomura #tenko smut #shigaraki tenko #tenko x reader #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #boku no hero academia shigaraki #bnha shigaraki

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

#park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin scenario #jimin reaction #jimin x reader #bts jimin #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin sad #jimin au #jimin smut #fuckboy jimin #fuckboy!jimin #bts scenario #bts smut #bts #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #idol jimin #idol!jimin #idol ! jimin #idol jimin au #ex boyfriend jimin

[buck-nialled]

Just What I Need - T. Holland

NOTE: This is my first tom imagine however I have written a few things for Peter and others so just let me know what you think of this! Any feedback is appreciated :)

IT IS ALSO IMPORTANT TO NOTE THAT IT IS DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AWARENESS MONTH! And while I did not cover that specific topic in this imagine, I still wanted to draw awareness to any specific form of harrasment, inside or outside of the door. This imagine features content about this that may be triggering to some readers but is in no way trying to romanticize the subject. There is no form of love that excuses abusive behavior. ALWAYS REMEMBER TO SPEAK UP! <333

One attribute of yours Tom would come to find both a blessing and a curse after months of venturing further into your relationship is your obstinance. Nobody liked to be told they were in the wrong, but you ensured to steer clear of this whenever possible. Even the smallest things you would find yourself defensive over; toothpaste on the brush first, then rinse; toilet paper folded over, cereal before the milk. Normally, Tom would save the petty arguments and follow suit of your routine, because you being headstrong would leave him the loser of the argument one way or another.

Not that he minded it, though. Tom appreciated someone who would challenge him more than worship him like a god, as some people he has come across do. Being introduced to you felt refreshing, like a dawn of a new day that was not familiar enough to him. He immediately wanted to follow you when you announced your departure to him after your first conversation. He was fortunate enough to receive your number before you left and did not let the opportunity to reach out to you pass him by.

Your hard-headed ways enamored him, nonetheless. He would find the two of you having silly debates often—no aggression present—and seem to plunge deeper in the trench of your being. The sparkle in your eye acted as a beacon when it was first noticed by Tom. It happened to be in the middle of your nonchalant discussion on which water tasted the best.

“Aren’t they all the same?” He piped up, never breaking his longing gaze. Your eyes could only widen at his claim, lips parting in an insulted manner. At first, all you could muster was a scoff, placing your hand against your chest.

“They definitely do not all taste the same.” You remark.

Tom thought back to that conversation, gripping the preferred brand of water you enjoyed in one hand while a miscellaneous bottle of the same drink occupied his other one. He handed you yours and took notice of your furrowed brows when you studied the top of the bottle. You have been drinking this same brand long enough to know a sip had been swigged from it, even if the amount lacking was minuscule.

“So, I tried both...” Tom announced before you could ask, “and I still stand by what I said. I don’t taste a difference.” He eyes you closely when you bring the bottle to your lips to take a sip, humming through it while you do so.

“Well,” you screwed the cap securely to the bottle and moved your free hand to pinch his chin between both of your fingers, “your tongue must be broken then.” You removed your grip from his chin, but Tom was refusing to let you wander too far from him. His arm ached as a belt on your middle and he pulled you even closer than before to his frame, your shirts just an inch from contact.

“If I recall, this is is the same tongue that had you screaming my name last ni—” His response was interrupted as one of the crew members waltzed over to the two of you from across the set. However, your boyfriend said just enough to make your insides twirl and dizzy themselves. Though you wanted to reminisce in the previous night’s activities and make the suggestion to Tom to relive them in his trailer—it wouldn’t be the first occasion—the main purpose of today was to tour the set for his latest film.

“Hey, mate.” Tom greets with a smile and looks down at you. “Y/N, this is Stephen. He’s the fight choreographer. Stephen, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He gestures between the two of you, and Stephen was the first to offer his hand for you to shake. You stuck your empty one out towards him.

“How long have you been doing this?” You ask in enthrallment. Yet another trait of yours that captured Tom’s heart was, ironically, your inclusion of everybody. Even if a person held different viewpoints on which toppings were allowed to be on pizza, or which level bread should be toasted, she was always intrigued by the part they played in their life. Each set Tom strung her along to explore would leave him smiling when he caught you sparking up a conversation with the cameramen, the music editors, the propmakers, or anybody alike. You even shared a few words with the catering team once, jokingly questioning how they manage not to engorge themselves on the items they bring to each set. “I know I would. You have will power.” He recalls you saying through a string of laughs.

“About four years now.” It was not a common attribute of yours to admire another person so openly. Even before your relationship with Tom, you attempted to keep the conversation between you casual, so as not to chase him off. But there was something about the niche occupation that kept you on your toes. An idea comes to mind before you can even think it over, and soon you ask the man:

“So, is it mostly just fighting you work with? Or is there some self-defense moves in your choreography too?” Tom looks over at you in curiosity from the explicit question. His grip tightened around your waist, but you hardly noticed.

“Well, it usually depends on the scene and character. But usually, there is an equal amount of both when it comes to a take where the characters might face a lot of “close calls” with each other.” You nod in understanding, now fiddling with the water bottle in your hold.

“Do you…do you think you could teach me some stuff? I mean like, self-defense moves I could use in an emergency.” Tom furrows his brows at your proposition, pondering if there was ever a moment when you felt unsafe that he was unbeknownst to. Stephen quickly agreed, saying they could have a couple of quick lessons throughout the day while they began shooting. Before any additional words could transpire between the two of you, Tom proposed to take you to his trailer.

When you entered the considerable space, Tom’s arm fell from your waist in exchange for his chestnut tendrils. The repeated pull and run of his fingers were telling enough that something serious was looming over his thoughts.

“Tom…what is it?” You ask, taking the bottle of water from his hold and setting it with yours on a nearby table. His now free hand tangles itself in his locks alongside the other, looking as if they could just pull the woe overcoming his mind.

“Ha-have I kept you safe?” He finally mumbles out You blinked for a few moments, absorbing his words but not understanding them.

“Huh?” You ask, slightly tilting your head.

“I mean…I’ve kept you safe, have-haven’t I? Did I ever get you hurt, or…”

“What, Tom no…” you shook your head furiously and reached up to pull both of his frantic hands from his hair. It was beginning to part in all different directions from the ministrations he had previously given to it, allowing several strands to fall about in front of his face. You delivered a comforting squeeze to his hands, which accepted the warm embrace and nimble fingers interlocking with his. “Of-of course I feel safe around you.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking…” He murmurs, lips turning down further. “Was there ever a time you got hurt and I didn’t help?”

“No…” you reply, beginning to shake your head.

“Then why do you want self-defense classes so bad?” The desperation causes an increase of volume in his voice. The brown eyes before you were pleading for answers, and you felt your heart begin wrenching as you prepared to spill the story to him.

“It was while you were out of London for filming a couple of months ago. I never told you about it…” you start. Tom never interrupts. He just nods his head, a silent ask for you to proceed. “It was later in the afternoon and I was walking to go pick up dinner when a group of guys started cat-calling me…” your voice grew quieter towards the end of your admission. Refusing to meet Tom’s eyes, you opted for your hands, now turning stiff and clammy as memories of that day began replaying in your head once again. “When I was on my way back, they did it again but started following me while they did it. And I…” two hot, wet blurs swarmed your vision as you prepared for the onslaught of tears to stream down your face. “I threatened to call the police and make a report if they didn’t stop. So, they started calling me names…really, really bad names.” You refused to go into detail or repeat any of what those men had said to you or about you while retreating to Tom’s home. But every comment came to mind while you described the encounter with your boyfriend. “I’m sorry.” He was quick to notice the slight tremble in your voice before you began sobbing. When the tears began racing from your eyelids, they met the cloth of Tom’s shirt instantly as he attempted to mollify your whimpers and blubbers of how the day concluded. “I didn’t want to tell you and worry you because I thought it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You sputtered without any proper cadence in your tone.

“It’s a huge deal, Y/N. Of course, you should have told me. I would have given the report myself.” One of his hands glided through your hair, before placing itself on the back of your warm neck. “They had no right to harass you like that.”

“I just-I didn’t know what to do. They-they were close enough to grab me I didn’t know what would happen if I…if I didn’t say anything.” You peeked your head up, the white around your pupils now a vibrant red as Tom continued consoling you.

“I know, I know…” he assures. “I’m glad you said something too, darling. Imagine having them face your wrath when they don’t have the right water.” He remarks, trying to lighten the mood. He receives a small chuckle in return and takes it with a proud feeling in his chest. Or maybe that was his heart enduring vertigo from your sudden switch in behavior. Because now it was absolutely throbbing against his ribs to track down this group and let them have a taste of a proper fight.

“In case anything like that happened when I was alone…I just wanted to be confident that I could handle it better if it got worse.”

“I understand.” He nods, gazing down into your eyes. “Know that you can call me whenever you don’t feel safe. I would interrupt an entire shoot just to know you crossed the street without scraping your knee, okay?” Slowly, the gleam faded into your eyes once again, absolutely entrancing Tom.

“I love you.” You shakily whisper.

“I love you too.” He replies, wasting no time in planting an abundance of kisses to the crown of your head. You hum.

“Remember what I said earlier about your tongue being broken?” Tom nods, surveying the fond smile as it reinforced the corners of your lips.

“I was wrong.” You admit without hesitation, sending another squeeze to his hand. “It always knows just what I need.”

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

taglist; @coconutdawn​ @swiftmendeshoran​

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland blurb #tom holland oneshot #tom holland story #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: Upcoming Thronebreaker Fics + Gascon Backstory

Okay, for today’s WiP Wednesday, I wanna share a few fics I have planned for Thronebreaker! Don’t worry, I will definitely continue writing Iorveth/Roche (and also Isengrim/Eldain, though most of those haven’t been published yet. But I have a doc with 8 WiPs for them).

But now that I’ve properly met the Thronebreaker OT3, I am suuuuuuper here for them. I’m still kind of figuring out their dynamic, but to be honest, 90% of my fics will probably take place in the months they travel from Lyria’s capital to Aedirn, ‘cause that journey would take a long time! Even just to the border would be a long walk (and armies move SLOW), but then Vengerberg is fairly central and I assume Black Rayla comes in somewhere near the Moulderwoods, since that’s Eldain’s territory. So like... it would take MONTHS of slowly traveling down the road - and also probably avoiding patrols and maybe even towns, because they’re outlaws now. And considering most towns are BUILT on major roads...

Point is, there’s plenty of time for them to get to know each other while traveling to Aedirn. And I hear that Thronebreaker gets pretty sad and depressing (I don’t know the details, but I also don’t mind spoilers. I know some big ones already, but I’m sure there’s more) so tbh, not sure if I’ll ever finish the game. Which makes the period of Meve, Reynard, and their handful of deserters traveling with Gascon and his Strays of Spalla perfect for fic settings lol.

So far, I have 3 specific fics planned and a few other ideas percolating. The first one is the Taint of the Common Man, which I went into pretty in detail here, so I won’t repeat that (but be warned, link goes to very noncon/dubcon set up stuff).

The second fic is Gascon-focused angst! Well, really ot3 angst, but I’ve only written Gascon’s POV so far, though next is Reynard’s POV and then Meve’s. The premise is that they’re on the road to Aedirn and they’ve been sleeping together the three of them for several months - but Gascon gets a reminder of exactly what he is to them when they mention their 10th anniversary. And he tries to act normal and cheerful and brash, but his heart is breaking because he stupidly fell in love with a queen and her top general and what is he? Nothing.

So he starts to subtly pull away from them, trying to protect his heart. But Reynard notices and worries over it and brings it up with Meve - who is all “nah, he’s fine”, and then watches Gascon and has to rescind her words, because he is absolutely not fine. And Gascon is spending more and more time with his strays (and his right hand gal in particular, which they’re totally not jealous over or anything), so it has to be them that are the problem. Which means they have to talk. 

I’m still thinking about non-sexual ways Meve and Reynard can show Gascon that he’s loved, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to throw them my way! But it’s definitely gonna have a happy ending with them working to show Gascon that he does belong with them.

The third fic is actually about Gascon becoming the Duke of Dogs XD If there’s a canon explanation, then too bad, because I like mine lol. Anyway, remember that right hand gal I mentioned? Well, her name is Medusa and she has purple hair that she braids and styles meticulously to look like snakes around her head. She also happens to be the best cat burglar in Aedirn - but she wasn’t always. So this fic is set way in the past, to when they first meet, because she’s the one that introduces him to the Strays of Spalla and vouches for him at first. Obviously later they both rise through the ranks and once Gascon takes over leadership, he works to make them more of a family (a family of crime lol).

Anyway, before any of that, we have Gascon as an 8yo who just saw his entire family murdered by the king’s guards for the crime of speaking out against the way nobles treat their people and their land. (idk if a reason is given in canon, but that’s my reason because it connects to some of the changes Gascon makes to the Strays. Basically, while they’re still a gang of criminals, I’ve decided to take inspiration from the incredible Black Panthers (who, to be clear, were NOT criminal, but were extensively treated like it by the FBI because they took care of and protected their community (you know, the ones the FBI was actively spying on and introducing highly addictive drugs to). I think I’ve lost the thread a bit and there are a lot of parentheses, so I’ll just conclude this bit by saying that my version of the Strays of Spalla steal from wealthy merchants and even wealthier nobles and use their ill-gotten gains to help the peasants (esp around Spalla, but across Lyria too). Which matters because I think Reynard semi understands that poor people are people (he talks to Meve about being proud to fight alongside the Strays because they’re fighting for freedom and what better cause is there?), but he’s still a nobleman who has spent the majority of his life at the king’s side. And Meve is queen. She has no fucking idea what the actual people of Lyria’s lives are like, because she’s always been concerned with managing her realm - which means managing nobles, who then are responsible for tending to their land aka getting taxes and shit from the peasants. So basically, both of them have a LOT of blindspots about what real actual people’s lives are like in their ‘great realm’. But Gascon? Gascon has lived that life.)

Right, so, the plot. The plot is actually not at all about how Gascon changes the Strays (oops), but about how he first joins them. So, 8yo Gascon. He just saw his family murdered, he was only saved because he was hidden in a closet, stuffing his own fist in his mouth to keep the guards from hearing him cry. But he Knows that they’ll kill him if they find out he survived, so he goes through the house and grabs what he can (what the guards didn’t loot) and tries not to throw up and cry too much. Then he runs.

But lil Gascon Brossard is a nobleman’s son and that’s the only life he’s known until now. And it’s obvious from his fine clothes that he has money - which means he ends up getting beaten and robbed on the streets a lot. Eventually, he learns to not share his name (’cause WOW that’s such a nobleman’s name lmao), but like... he’s 8. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just trying to survive. (Also, for extra angst, I’m thinking he got his mom’s signet ring from the house before he left, but it got stolen. But when he’s older, he steals it back.)

I’m not sure why he decides to rob the house of a minor noble in the Spalla area, but he does. And he actually plans it pretty carefully - he creates a cigarette bomb for a time-delayed (minor) explosion that busts open the door to the kennel and scares all the dogs, so they go howling and barking and running and create chaos. (A noble’s household would likely have a lot of dogs, most of them working ones.) His plan is to break into the kitchen while everyone is otherwise occupied and steal enough to eat for a good while. 

But before he can do this, while he’s hiding in the bushes and waiting for his bomb to go off, someone else finds him. Specifically, Medusa finds him - because she was casing the place to steal stuff (probably jewels. She really likes shiny things). So she pulls a knife on him and demands to know who he is. And idk if the Brossards owned a duchy or if he was just being cheeky, but he’s all, “I’m a duke!”

“Yeah?” Medusa laughs. “Duke of what?”

At that moment, the bomb goes off with a little pop and then utter chaos descends as dogs start howling and baying and barking. And Gascon just grins his gap-toothed grin (he probably lost some teeth getting beaten tbh) and proclaims, “of dogs!”

Then he invites her to come raid the kitchen with him. And she’s not 8yo, but she’s only a few years older and those pastries do smell good. So the steal the whole lot and then Medusa brings him into the Strays and it starts to get a little bit easier for Gascon to survive. Idk how much he hides his name (’cause Gascon is SUCH a nobleman’s name, but also, he later signs orders to his men with all his amazing made up titles and then -G) but he definitely starts going predominantly by “Duke” and “the Duke of Dogs”.

Anyway shit, I gotta go get ready for an event, so - hope you enjoyed hearing about my upcoming Thronebreaker fics!

#meve x reynard x gascon #thronebreaker ot3 #thronebreaker #wip wednesday #fic planning #the witcher

[bizarrebaby]

Alraune P.2| Mandalorian/Reader

Pairing: Mandalorian/Mandrake!Reader

Word count: 1.3 k

Warning: Some described gore, implication of human consumption, monster biology

Summary: You and Mando meet some bounty poachers

You awoke with the setting of the afternoon sun, over someone’s shoulder, hands bound tightly with cords, runic letters burnt into them.

You looked back in the direction of the inner swamp, contemplating whether or not you would ask the hunter if you could say goodbye. You decided against it. You could not see his face, but you decided you didn’t want him to be more disgusted with you than he already was.

“Who are you?” you ask, voice still weak with sleep. The hunter says nothing.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Will I ever see this place again?”

He stops in his tracks for a few moments.

“Probably not,” he answers, less than sure, but probably more sure than you’ve ever been about anything.

_______

Three days later, and the hunter has still not spoken to you for more than a minute in total. You were allowed, once out of the swamp, to walk on your own two feet, though you remained bound at the wrists. You had tried chewing at the rope a few times, but it did nothing more than burn your tongue. It had turned out the canyon pass he had travelled through to get to your swamp collapsed, meaning the journey to deliver you would be much longer. And while you were bound, the Mandalorian more or less had to take care of you.

Initially, the smell of carrion followed you. After a couple of days of eating the cooked kills of the hunter, accompanied with some fruits on occasion, you smelled sweet and somewhat smokey. Sometimes, when you were asleep and he’d take his helmet off to eat, the scent would make his head spin. Where before it had been nausea inducing, now there was something enticing to it.

By the end of the week, he drew his enchanted blade, and you didn’t flinch away. He hadn’t intended to scare you, but he expected you to be… startled. He wondered if you’d accepted whatever fate you’d concluded to be yours, or if your species just had woefully bad survival instincts. He cut through the runic binds. Besides testing some of his things with your teeth, you hadn’t given him much trouble. Things would be faster this way.

The Mandalorian, of course, never initiated conversation. He seldom saw the use in talking to bounties, for obvious reasons. But you had a way of confounding him to the point of curiosity with what conversations you attempted.

“Why don’t you take off your helmet? Are you light-sensitive? Physically defective?” You weren’t the most sensitive speaker, but it didn’t seem to come from ill-will. 

“It’s a part of my religion,” he stated simply. Your eyes drifted as your head tilted.

“What’s religion?”

The helmet hid his stunned expression well. It was strange in a way he wasn’t able to articulate. Strange that you knew light sensitivity, physical defects, but not religion. He supposed it was possible that there were still places within the continent that faith had yet to reach, in any form, but still highly unusual.

“It’s…. Well, they’re systems of belief people have.”

“What does yours believe in?”

“Warrior strength. Honor. Family.” He pointed to a pendant on your neck, a symbol in tarnished brass on a simple chain. He’d wondered about it in the back of his mind for days, and figured now was as good as time as any to ask. “What does that mean?”

“Oh. I don’t know,” you chirped “I was thinking of asking you.”

Strange again. You wore a poncho of leaves, all of your other clothing was similarly produced, the necklace being the only thing man-made on you. His better judgement told him to stop the questioning here, but some damnably curious part of him had to know.

“Where did you get it?”

“My… my father. It was his.”

Every answer raised more questions. Vegetables don’t have parents, harsh as that may sound. Had you meant… a gardener? Had you been adopted?

You yawned, wide like a cat, showing your serrated teeth. 

“Sleep? Ok?” You asked. He noticed that it was difficult for you to stay awake more than a few hours after sunset. The helmet tilted just slightly, an affirming nod in your direction. You laid down, little tendrilous roots from your skin growing and pushing into the soft soil beneath you. 

Come sunrise, you’d haul yourself up, leaving the little roots behind, still squirming. Gross.

____

The Mandalorian was coming to realize why the price on an alraune had been so high. There had been other travelers, mostly mages and alchemists, who’d stopped him in your travels. Some offered him a price, some tried to convince him that he didn’t have the knowledge to have you-- that something like you belonged in the hands of a seasoned expert.

Others just tried to kill him for you.

Mandalorians didn’t use magic. They were about as far from magic-using as it got. They were followers of the forge, of physical combat, though this often necessitated ways of warding off magic from opponents. The Mandalorian hadn’t realized what a precious ingredient alraunes were to mages and medicine makers.

The most recent in a long line of poachers fell dead, a talented sorcerer who’d had more than a few tricks up his sleeve. In return for his victory, The Mandalorian received a bleeding gash on his side that had begun to blacken, having been caused by a necrotic spell.

The journey was shaping up to be a lot longer than he’d intended. With the added length came dwindling supplies, including healing salves. And while he had some left, it wasn’t high enough in quality or quantity for this. He laid on his uninjured side in the dirt, weighing his options, and wondering if you’d done the smart thing and run off.

“You are rotting? I can smell it.”

Apparently not.

“Yeah. You can eat me when I’m finished,” he grit out, the pain from the burning decay coming in flashes. When you kneel by his side, he wonders if you’re really going to do it. The Mandalorian muses about leaving you with instructions on how to get to his covert and return his beskar when he feels something warm and slimy drip onto his side. He focuses to find you biting your hand, using your serrated teeth to saw at the dense flesh of your palm. More of the fluid drips from your palm as you squeeze it over his wound like a lemon wedge, the opaque, rosy pink substance leaking into his gash.

Finally, you smear your hand over the gash, then rub your palm in the dirt to dry it. Something that would be terrible for him to do to a cut, but he supposes that for a vegetable, it’s probably fine. Suddenly, his side gets warmer.

No, it’s not just warm-- it fucking burns. 

He growls and clutches his side, curling in on himself in exquisite pain. If your intention was to end his misery, he’d have rather rot to death than this. 

In a few minutes, which are so excruciating they feel like hours, pain begins to subside into a dull, throbbing ache. The Mandalorian is able to pull himself together and sit up to inspect his side. The black has been replaced with an angry pink, severely irritated, but not lethal. The wound itself still weeps little beads of blood in some places when he moves, but for the most part, it’s been clotted with an off-white foam. It’s probably helping him, and he won’t die now, but it looks fucking disgusting.

When he’s able to come back to his senses, he sees you poking around the corpse of the mage. Picking up and dropping his lifeless wrists. You bring his hand to your mouth and--

“Hey!” he shouts, and you drop it, looking up at him with dilated pupils from beneath your mess of hair.

“Don’t eat that. You don’t know where it’s been.”

Taglist:

Pedro Characters: @auty-ren

Alraune: @lellowberry

#the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #monster hunter au #writing #drabble #cw gore

[mahou-furbies]

It is time for

Last year the Dazzling Pink Precure were supposed to host the event but were unavailable due to being redesigned, but this time they are ready for the job!

Here is the magical girl (and related) media consumed on this blog this year:

(you can read my closing thoughts on them here)

Anime: Kaitou Tenshi Twin Angel & the 2 OVAs, Twin Angel Break, Pretear, Happy Seven, Ojamajo Doremi (started), Healin’ Good Precure (most of it that’s out now), Magia Record (also following the game news though I don’t play), Myriad Colors Phantom World, Re:Creators, Concrete Revolutio)

Movies: Fresh, DokiDoki, Happiness Charge, Go! Princess, KiraKira & Star Twinkle Precure season movies, Spring Carnival & Miracle Universe crossover movies, Magical Sisters Yoyo and Nene)

Manga: Magical Girl Site (finished), Zodiac P.I. (reread), Sugar Sugar Rune (reread), Nogi Wakaba is a Hero, Puella Magi Suzune Magica (reread), Puella Magi Tart Magica (reread), Can You Become A Magical Girl, Colourful Macchiato)

(revisits to old familiar stuff don’t qualify for an award unless I had forgotten everything about it, Doremi is ineligible since I've only seen 1/5th so far)

Unexpectedly I managed to finish quite a lot of stuff on my last year's "plans for 2020 list".

As for blog stuff, this year the Precure Chibi Project was concluded for the designs that exists so far, but obviously it will continue when more are released and I'd also like to draw some more of the civilian clothes too. But this year over 400 chibis were drawn...

Then we of course had the Precure Dress Tournament, with Cure Magical emerging as the winner. Hosting it was a lot of fun since I like graphs and numbers, as the fact that I keep a google sheet that documents the dates when I draw the chibis (it also calculates useful data such as how many percent I've finished).

(Also Megumi's heart dress should totally have won the tournament)

The Precure positivity posts were also a thing this year. Usually the franchise is bitched at here at Mahou-Furbies so I tried to say something nice about each Cure that I had seen. Which was a major struggle in some cases but hopefully they don't come across as too much damning with faint praise. I plan on writing similar posts for the Cures from the other seasons too as I watch them, but also because I managed to write an entire post about Mana without complaining I take that as justification that I get to write a huge bitchy "the flaws of the Precure franchise" post later.

And then now at the end of the year the Dazzling Pink Precure finally managed to emerge again with their new designs. I hope I'll be able to post more about them in 2021!

And now, the Mahou-Furbies 2020 magical girl awards!

Let's start with Best Henshin Design: Megumi Moka from Magia Record! I always love a good sweets theme and I can't get over how cute she is.

(Kikko from Concrete Revolutio was also a strong contender)

Best Team Design goes to Nogi Wakaba Is a Hero, I've always loved the YuYuYu henshin outfit design.

The Best Powerup Look award goes to Lala's Cancer form in the Star Twinkle Precure movie! I just really like the fresh colour palette...

Runner-up is Nagisa's MagiReco Valentine's outfit which I like for being sweets themed but I guess it's more like an alternate form than a powerup?

There weren’t that many contenders for Best Civilian Design but let’s say that since I like the casual outfits in KiraKira Precure in general, The Movie was also good at this. So let’s reward Ciel’s look, it’s nice to see a more muted colour palette in Precure every now and then!

Oh, right! Also everyone from the Star Twinkle Precure movie! Love all their outfits. 

Best School Uniform is the one from Sukoyaka Middle School, from Healin' Good Precure! I like the colour palette, and the cut of the dress.

The uniforms from the Twin Angel franchise are also fun with their cherry ribbon.

Best Hair award goes to Kikko, from Concrete Revolutio! The "rectangular" cut ends are fun.

Best Magical Item is Mamika's wand from Re:Creators! There's really nothing special about it, I just think it looked nice enough with the candy cane and the heart crystal (and also not so merchandise driven since this isn't a kid show).

The Best Henshin Scene award goes to Sudachi from MagiReco! I don’t like how detailed all the body curves are drawn in the few seconds before her outfit appears, but otherwise there’s great backgrounds in this, starting from the space theme, twinkling stars, beautiful blue sky and then ending with cute hearts.

Best Fan Creation award goes to Marighoul’s comic “First Hunt”! (read it here) It was a fun little story and the colours were amazing!

Best Relationship is Hikaru and Lala with the alien in the Star Twinkle movie! I would never have guessed that I’d enjoy Precures raising a “baby” mascot this much, but it is true! I love how much role their bond had in the story, and the conclusion was more epic than anything Precure has managed to offer elsewhere. 

The Best Mascot of 2020 is... the aforementioned alien UMA! Unusual design for a girl show, doesn’t have an annoying voice or speech pattern (or in fact doesn’t talk at all), and has an interesting role in the story.

Second place is Nyatoran from Healin' Good Precure, he pairs well with Hinata and I love the scene where she records cat videos of him with her phone.

As for Best Supporting Character, this is a joke character, but I have to say Mayune from Pretear. I'm sorry I just like this kind of dumb diva characters (with the o-ho-ho laugh!) and always had a good time when she was on screen.

Discount Tuxedo Mask from the Twin Angel franchise was also fun, he had nice chaotic energy to him.

Best Visual goes to Kikko's magical effects from Concrete Revolutio! We always get the standard sparkles so I was so happy to see something different for once.

Best Audio award goes to Pretear OP! The song feels a bit dated but in a good way, this is just the kind of music I like.

The Best Scene award goes to Healin' Good Precure attack!

Usually in Precure I really don't care for the stock attack animation and instead just focus on the henshins, but in this one I really like the bit where the giant hands rip the element spirit out of the enemy. The music is so good in that part, and the huge hands compared to the tiny spirit feel majestic.

I also liked Re:Creators scene where the (in-story) writers create a powerup for their character by getting their audience excited about it by tweeting. It was dumb how a tweet from some ranobe author goes viral in a matter of seconds, but I still thought the scene was fun and worked well.

The Innovation Award for doing something magical girl related I haven't seen dozens of times already goes to Happy Seven! I thought it was fun how the main character wasn't on the magical girl team at all and instead was practically the Muggle friend for most of the story!

Re:creators is the runner up here with its "fictive characters show up in our world" story, but I think it could have done more with the idea, and I think Happy Seven is commendable for doing something that feels refreshing without having to be all smart and self-aware about it.

Then the Golden Mana Award for one thing that I really didn't like this year. 

The questionable honour goes to Meguru's unbearable behaviour at the start of Twin Angel Break, when she keeps pushing her friendship on the blue girl who has made it very clear that she'd rather be left alone. And of course the blue girl is secretly lonely and ultimately caves in so Meguru faces no consequences for being selfish and entitled and having zero respect for other people's boundaries. Stuff like this fuels my rage at the Friendly-And-Energetic-Stock-Magical-Girl-Heroines.

For Best Character I want to pick Lala from the Star Twinkle movie but she won Best Character last year so let’s pick someone else. To be fair nobody (else) this year made me super excited, but leaving such a broad category as this completely empty would be really stupid, so the winner is Himeno, from Pretear!

She had a lot more multifaceted personality than I initially predicted, had interesting and different relationships with many different characters, and of course had many unique henshin!

And finally, Best Work of the year... I know I picked Star Twinkle as the best series last year (award has been renamed now) so this feels somehow redundant, but I still can't get over how enjoyable their film was and as you may have noticed it has been mentioned in plenty of other awards already so it deserves the spot. On principle I liked that it wasn't centered around the pink Cure for once, and additionally it was about Lala who is my favourite Cure, and also since there wasn't really a villain the plot was more interesting than the same old "bad guy wants to take over the world". Also great visuals.

And that’s it for 2020! It has been a weird year, but that didn’t really show on this blog.

Plans for 2021:

Also once I finish drawing the chibis for the Madoka girls, expect a Madoka themed character tournament in 2021!

#blog stuff #annual wrap up

[the-wlw-cafe]

Supercorptober 2020 - Day 3: Dancing

Read it on ao3 here!

“May I have this dance?” For several moments, Lena was sure she must have misheard. The voice clearly belonged to a woman, a woman asking her to dance, in front of the entire assembled bourgeoisie of National City. A madwoman, clearly – such things were unheard of, and if the involved parties wanted to be able to show their face again among the nobility, they were to be kept that way.

OR

Lena gets whisked away by a dashing stranger who asks too many questions. But it takes two to tango, and Lena is determined to show this stranger that she knows the steps just as well as her.

The masks truly afforded nothing but the barest pretence of anonymity. Lena could easily make out her brother, donning the mask of a snarling golden dragon in his incomparable ego, surrounding himself with the easily impressed and delighting in their awe and gawking as he presented them with tales of his daring conquest of Krypton, and all the treasure and wondrous inventions found in the ransacked cities. Even more apparent was Morgan Edge, whom she identified in a matter of minutes by the way he couldn’t wrench his eyes away from her cleavage for three consecutive seconds. Still, the invited to the annual masquerade ball conducted themselves with the self-assured gracelessness of men and women absolutely convinced none of their behaviour could ever be traced back to them.

Lex, their gracious host for the evening, had often told her she would learn to enjoy these balls soon enough, but while it was entertaining to watch the National City nobility make fools of themselves as wine flowed in biblical quantities, Lena quickly found herself bored of trading empty platitudes and trying to dodge the wandering hands of rich old men emboldened by alcohol or her brother’s sycophants tripping over themselves to praise his warmongering and genocidal exploits beyond the border in hopes of ingratiating themselves with the Luthors. With the years she’d developed a strategy in avoiding such situations, and it consisted mostly of always making herself seem as inapproachable as humanly possible, adding an aggressive snap to her steps as if she was continuously running late for something, venom to her words and disdain to her voice. It was not a mask she enjoyed wearing, but one necessary nonetheless.

Unfortunately Edge was not so easy to deter. She could see him stalking towards her, palms open in what he must have believed was an appeasing gesture. She began scanning the room for a quick route of egress, but found every way blocked by chattering groups of drunks, when suddenly -

“May I have this dance?”

For several moments, Lena was sure she must have misheard. The voice clearly belonged to a woman, a woman asking her to dance, in front of the entire assembled bourgeoisie of National City. A madwoman, clearly – such things were unheard of, and if the involved parties wanted to be able to show their face again among the nobility, they were to be kept that way. Still, she had to admire the woman’s bravery. It’s not like she hadn’t dreamt about it when she was younger and more naive, in the contrary, she’d spent many nights wishing herself away from a family, imagining a dashing girl to whisk her away into an adventure. But those idle dreams were for children, and Lena had long since accepted that the closest thing to love she could attain were quick fumblings in backrooms and dark hallways. It was a reality of life – a reality that the stranger apparently couldn’t yet accept.

Though she doubted he’d heard a word of what she said, the madwoman’s arrival had given Edge pause, but out of the corner of her eye she could see him pick up the pace towards her again, and in this moment, Lena was ready for any excuse to be out of his reach.

“Absolutely, I insist”, she answered, and let herself be lead to the dance floor. The music was barely audible over the laughter and conversations, most couples long since having abandoned dancing for a walk in the gardens, and the almost inevitably following roll in the hay. The woman started softly swaying them to the rhythm of the music, not especially gracefully, but Lena had seen far worse from her peers.

Now that the immediate danger of Edge accosting her had been staved off, Lena allowed herself her first look at her saviour. She immediately knew she’d never seen her before – masked or not, she was sure she would never forget a personality such as hers. Fittingly for someone as foolishly courageous, she had chosen the mask of a lion, long blond hair framing it perfectly like a mane. Even more perplexing (and, if Lena was honest with herself, alluring) was the fact that she had forgone a dress in favour of a simple, yet elegant frock coat with red and golden accents. Lena bit back a smile as she felt the lioness preen under Lena’s slow appraisal.

“My, my, aren’t you quite the scandal?”, she purred.

“I thought embracing scandal under the guise of anonymity was the whole point of a masquerade ball.”

Lena couldn’t hold back an airy laugh. “That much is true. Though I do greatly prefer your interpretation of scandal over the interpretations of the rest of the guests. So far, you haven’t even tried to touch my arse.”

The calm and collected veneer of her partner was immediately ruined as she reflexively dragged her hand a few inches higher from the perfectly tame spot on her back where it had been resting, leading Lena through the dance with nothing but the gentlest of pressure.

“I would never!” the lioness sputtered, honest affront at the mere notion tinting every syllable.

Lena cocked her head to the side, lost in thought.

“You truly wouldn’t”, she murmured, more to herself than to the blonde. Watching over her shoulder, she could see Lex, staring at her from across the room with barely concealed rage. Lena knew he could recognize her just as well as she could recognize him, and she hoped he could also sense her smirk under her black raven mask as she pulled her partner closer and quickened their steps, her lioness matching her tempo after just a moment of stumbling. After all the times her family had made sure she knew what a disgrace she was to the Luthor name, it was high time she, as the blonde had so precisely put it, embraced a little scandal.

The lioness spun them around once, and too late Lena noticed her partner surreptitiously following the direction of her gaze to where Lex was still watching them, the wine glass in his hand now shaking with fury.

“It seems that Lord Luthor has taken quite an interest in you”, she stated.

Lena could feel herself tense at these words, suspicion worming its way through the sense of safety she’d felt with the stranger.

“How did you know it was him?”

“Who else would move with such self-importance and display his wealth so publicly than our gracious host? And”, she added, a smug smile evident in her voice, “if it wasn’t him, why would you have reacted so strongly?”

Lena could kick herself for giving herself away so easily. She didn’t give the stranger the satisfaction of an answer, partly out of pride, and partly to choose her next words carefully as to not repeat her mistake.

“All of which makes me wonder”, the blonde concluded, “who you are to have vexed him so?”

She punctuated her statement by dropping Lena into a dip that had her heart stutter and breath hitch, held up only by one single, strong, secure hand between her shoulder blades. She swallowed, as her throat had suddenly gone very dry.

“Only moments ago it was you who was lecturing me on the advantages of anonymity”, she replied, clasping the other woman’s upper arm to regain some sense of stability. As her fingers brushed the fabric of her frock coat, she came upon something strange: She noticed a seam at the shoulder coming apart. No true noblewoman would wear clothes old or shoddily crafted enough to rip during a social gathering. Now that she was paying attention to it, there were more and more irregularities that caught her eye. The coat was slightly ill-fitting, the buttons straining just the tiniest bit against the lioness’ broad chest, and the rim of her mask was chipped just below the jaw.

“It seems we both have something to gain from it”, Lena teased, wrapping the loose thread around her finger and ripping it off with one abrupt motion, making sure her partner knew she knew.

“It seems we both have something to hide”, the woman acquiesced. Lena snorted.

“I’m a woman who enjoys dancing with other women, what don’t I have to hide?”

“You enjoy dancing with me?”

That much was obvious. It was no use beating around the bush, and while she wasn’t certain whether the racing of her pulse was owed more to the company she found herself in or the fact that her partner seemed entirely to perceptive for comfort, or, as was most likely the case, a mixture of the two, she liked it. She liked their little cat and mouse game, she wanted to see how far it could go, where it could lead them.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have given you the time of the day”, she whispered, making sure to brush her hand over the slight swell of the lioness’ biceps and delighting in the way she audibly swallowed and missed a step in their dance.

“I’m honoured”, her partner murmured, unmistakable arousal adding a deep timbre to her voice.

“As you should be”, Lena smirked, wrapping a leg around her waist and trusting that the lioness’ strong arms would keep her balanced. In their next breakneck spin she caught another quick glance at Lex, but this time he wasn’t alone. He was bent over to none other than Edge, who was very obviously pointing at them while ranting about something. As soon as they noticed her watching them they got up, moving quickly toward her. Shit. She needed to get out of here, fast. She leaned in close to her partner.

“Would you like me to show you the gardens?”

It was an obvious code phrase. Being shown the gardens might have been the express goal in attending the ball for a lot of the attendees, but Lena was willing to bet none of them were botanical enthusiasts. She had no intention of following through with her bold promise, while she enjoyed the chase, she didn’t like the thought of baring herself to this total stranger with a knack for asking too many questions, in every sense of the word. She didn’t fear the lioness wouldn’t take no for an answer, despite her obvious interest. But to her surprise, her partner took a step back, a few hand widths of distance between their chests that previously had almost been touching.

“I...I don’t think that would be a good idea”, she said, adamantly refusing to meet her gaze.

Objectively, Lena knew that her refusal didn’t really matter, not when the offer she made wasn’t even genuine, but the obvious rejection still felt like someone had doused her with a bucket of icy water.

“Thank you for the dance”, the lioness added, her voice strangely hoarse, bowed stiffly and turned to leave.

“Wait!”

Lena hadn’t meant to exclaim so loudly, several people turning their heads towards her made her insides churn with embarrassment. She took the lioness by the hand and pulling her close, making a show of caressing her cheek for the onlookers before leaning in once more and whispering in her ear: “Our gracious host after me.” She swallowed her pride like a bitter pill and added: “Please.”

The lioness stood there for a second, frozen, before a steady hand found the small of Lena’s back.

“Lead the way.”

She took the lioness by the hand and together they dodged and weaved through the masses, most of them readily making space after the scene they’d made. It was dark outside, here and there the muffled noises of amorous couples were audible through the song of the cicadas. She tugged her onwards, into the bushes that framed the pebble paths where they ducked down into the shadows, waiting. They saw Lex emerge, stalking along the paths like a featherless vulture, but Lena was sure he would not venture too deep into the gardens. Sure, there was no telling what retribution awaited Lena tomorrow, for potentially bringing dishonour on the entire Luthor family for her public dalliance with this stranger that defied all notions of etiquette and morality, but in this moment, huddled together with her lioness, painfully aware of the fact that she had not yet let go of her hand, she found that she only regret she had was not being able to see her brother’s face.

“Well”, she giggled (giggled! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that), once she was sure Lex was gone, “Look at you, a perfect stranger whisking me away to an adventure. I must say, I’ve never had this much excitement at one of these odious balls.”

Her lioness was quiet for a while, and anxiety began to rear its ugly head in Lena’s mind as she began fretting over whether she’d been too familiar. Then, the other woman heaved a sigh so great Lena could see her deflate.

“Lena…”

It didn’t come as a shock to her, not really. She knew the lioness was perceptive and intelligent, on some level she’d suspected she knew of her identity. The thought of a stranger knowing her name while she knew nothing, nothing at all about her in return still made her queasy with unease.

“You know my name.” It wasn’t a question.

“You know I don’t belong here.”

“So I suppose we are at an impassé?”

The lioness was silent for a few more seconds, then she spoke again:

“Lena, my intentions with you haven’t been...honest. My sister will have my head for telling you this, but, the truth is that I infiltrated the ball with one goal in mind: I wanted to confront your brother, and…”

Her fingers slipped out of Lena’s, and instead she took hold of her shoulders, as if she was imploring her, begging for something – mercy, forgiveness, anything that had never been Lena’s to give.

“Lena, I wanted to kill him.”

So she was a madwoman after all.

“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed, still mindful of whoever might be out there overhearing this conversation they’d both be executed for. Lena doubted Lex would shed a tear, after tonight, he might in fact be glad for the excuse.

The reaction of the lioness was instantaneous, recoiling as if Lena’s skin had burned her, hands that had been clawing at her gown dropping limply at her sides.

“In front of National City’s entire upper class? You’d be dragged off to jail before you’d even cleaned the blade of his blood! Don’t think you’d be seeing any mercy from them, they all profiteer off of his warmongering! You’d be lucky if you’d even get as much as a mock trial, instead of being murdered before you’d get the chance to see the light of day again -”

“I don’t care!”

Stunned silence was her answer. She’d shouted the words with such conviction, with such disregard to her own fate. Even in her darkest moments there’d always been a voice inside Lena that had forced her to carry on, if not for her own sake or for the dwindling hope of better days, then just out of pure spite.

“I don’t care”, the lioness said again, all the fire having left her voice, looking so incredibly small now. “He took everything from me. I don’t care what it takes, I need to make sure he can’t hurt anyone else. When I asked you to dance tonight, it was for the sole purpose of getting closer to him, closer to my goal, but when you accepted...I forgot everything else for just a few minutes.”

Muffled sniffles were audible under the blonde’s mask now, and Lena felt the sudden urge to reach out to her, to comfort her.

“And a part of me resents you for it because this, us, is something I desperately want but I know I can never truly have. As long as he is still alive I know I can never be at peace.”

“It sounds like we have a common enemy then”, Lena said, with as secure a voice as she could muster.

“Lena, you can’t possibly -”

“Mean that? The Luthors have tormented me since my father forced them to take me in. But that hardly matters. Don’t you see this is bigger than just Lex? Every single person you’ve seen donning a mask today have a vested interest in continuing his conquest, even if he isn’t their figurehead anymore. You could – we could change everything, together, if you don’t throw away your shot with one rash decision tonight.”

“You’d be hunted. Your life would never return back to normal.”

“Good. I hope so. This entire time I’ve waited for some opportunity, for someone to take my hand and lead me, when in reality all I needed to do was take the plunge.”

Another silence stretched on, and Lena’s competitive side couldn’t help but feel a little pride at the fact that this time it was her who had stunned the other woman. Then, quietly at first, she started to laugh, until her entire frame was shaking.

“My sister is definitely going to kill me”, she managed between sobs of laughter. Then, in one fluid movement, she pulled the mask from her face, a cascade of blonde hair framing a face more beautiful than any other Lena had seen, blue eyes glimmering with tears of both sorrow and laughter holding her stare.

“My name is Kara Zor-El, and I am the last daughter of Krypton.”

#supercorptober 2020 #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #3 for 3 this dyke can't be stopped #[insert crude joke about not liking balls here] #please reblog if you like uwu

[a-fire-emblem-geek]

The Incredible Shrinking Unlucky Student Part 1

Monodora feels like the killing game just isn’t interesting enough. He whips up an interesting new motive, which involves a peculiar thing happening to a certain unlucky student.

The day had started out average enough.

Ayumu woke up, the morning announcement blaring in his ears.

“Good morning, everyone! Please meet in the cafeteria for a very important announcement!” Monodora spoke.

Ayumu grumbled, mustering what little energy he had to get out of bed. He didn’t sleep a wink last night. The thought of a killing game was far too scary for him to sleep like a baby. But no one here looked like that they could be a potential murderer, right?

Right?

He slipped into his outfit, briefly taking the time to attempt to get the one tuft in his hair to just stick down. When that attempt proved to be fruitless, Ayumu stepped outside, only to be greeted by Seishi.

“Ah, Mr. Fujimori, good morning!” Seishi greeted.

“Hey, Seishi! Are the others at the cafeteria?” Ayumu asked.

“Only a few people. Come on, we shouldn’t keep Mr. Monodora waiting,” Seishi responsed. The mystery novelist and the unlucky student walked down the hallway.

Once they got to the cafeteria, they saw that Misuzu, Kazuomi, Kasumi, Mitsunari, and Narumi were already there.

“Good morning, Seishi. Good morning, Ayumu,” Misuzu greeted.

“Hey,” Kasumi grumbled.

“I wonder what Monodora fucking wants...” Kazuomi growled, the karate practitioner resting his head in his hands boredly.

“Hungry? I’m about to start breakfast!” Narumi chirped.

“Why did Monodora wake us up so early?” whined Mitsunari as he spoke for his puppet, Uma.

“Uma, you always wake up at 11 am!” objected Mitsunari as he spoke for his other puppet, Shika.

“Hey, I need my beauty sleep, you know!” Uma yelled.

“Now, children, we shouldn’t fight!” Mitsunari himself repremanded sternly.

“Sorry, daddy...” both puppets chorused.

Soon enough, more people started piling in. First came Aruma, who looked rather... aroused.

“Sorry, everyone! I was having the most... hot dream ever...” Aruma spoke. “It involved-.”

“Enough of that shit!” Kazuomi growled. Nevertheless, the purple-haired animal trainer went to sit by Kazuomi.

Next came in Saiji with Nico and Maiko at his heels.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone,” Saiji apologized with a polite dip of his head.

“You don’t have to apologize all the time, you know!” Maiko repremianded.

“So- Never mind,” Saiji stopped himself before he could be reprimanded again.

“I didn’t sleep. The thought of a killing game hung over my head like a hawk over a field of chickens...” Nico murmured. The poet, the undertaker, and the dancer sat together at their own separate spot at the table.

Marin and Kego came in a few seconds later.

“Good morning, everyone! Big sis hopes that you all had lovely dreams! Poka poka! （＾ω＾)” Marin beamed. Ayumu’s mood brightened upon seeing the cheerful weather forecaster.

“I was hoping that I could practice my sick beats before Monodora said that he needed to see us...” Kego mumbled.

Lastly, Mikoto came in the room with Akira not too far behind.

“Let’s see what Monodora wants now...” Mikoto grumbled. The mysterious girl sat next to the open chair near Ayumu.

“Eh, it’s probably for no good reason...” Akira concluded. The NEET took his own spot near Aruma.

Not too long after Akira sat down, Monodora popped out of literally nowhere.

“Goooooooood morning everyone!” The disembodied cat plushie head spoke. No one spoke. “Oh, come on! You youngsters are so rude!”

“You are literally keeping us here...” Akira pointed out. Monodora continued as if the dark blue-haired NEET hadn’t spoken at all.

“Anyway, I noticed that no one here was going to kill each other-!” Monodora started.

“That’s because we refuse to do that!” Seishi interrupted.

“Will you all STOP INTERRUPTING ME?!?” Monodora yelled. Once the room was completely silent, he continued. “I noticed that no one here was going to kill someone, sooo I concocted a little motive for that to happen!”

“We are not going to fall for it, Monodora!” Ayumu shouted.

“Ooooh, I think you will! Speaking of which, Ayumu... come here!” Monodora ordered. Seishi protectively wrapped his arms around Ayumu.

“He is not going to follow your orders!” The redheaded novelist yelled.

“If he doesn’t come up, I’m just gonna kill you all right now!” Monodora cackled. Ayumu gently pried himself out of Seishi’s grasp.

He got up, his legs shaking as if they were supported by jello instead of bones. Ayumu hesitantly stepped towards Monodora, his heart thundering in his ribcage like a boxer punching rapidly at a punching bag. Once he was close enough to Monodora, Ayumu found himself barely able to speak because his mouth was dryer than a desert. That was when a Monodora did something completely unexpected. He took out some kind of gun and shot it at Ayumu. The unlucky boy cringed as a tingling sensation encased his body and... nothing. Ayumu opened his eyes to see his body briefly encased in a yellow aura, which then disappeared after a bit.

“Well, that’s enough of that! Bye for now! Upupupupu!” Monodora promptly left.

A moment of silence filled the cafeteria. It was so quiet that you could easily hear a crumb drop. Finally, it was Kazuomi who broke the silence. “Hey, Ayumu? Do you... fucking feel okay?” the SHSL Karate Practitioner asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’m just... shaken up, that’s all...” Ayumu mumbled.

“Big sis hopes that nothing serious happens to Ayumu-kun... poka poka... (☍﹏⁰)” Marin muttered worriedly.

“Someone should just keep watch of Ayumu, just in case...” Mikoto suggested. “We don’t know what that beam did to him.”

“If anything at all, really,” Akira piped up. “It could just be a trick to make us think that something happened to Ayumu...”

“Guys, seriously, I feel fine!” Ayumu objected.

“I agree with Mikoto. Someone should watch Ayumu just in case...” Saiji pointed out.

“I’ll do it, Mr. Rokudou,” Seishi offered. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Fujimori.”

“N-not at all!” Ayumu stammered, his cheeks going as red as his eyes. Wait, why was he getting so flustered? Seishi was just a really good friend! Friends shouldn’t make other friends flustered. Ayumu shook off his romantic thoughts as he walked alongside Seishi.

The rest of the day continued as normal. Ayumu was always with at least one student: he was at first with Seishi, then with Saiji and Maiko, then with Marin and Kazuomi, and lastly with Mikoto. They never left him alone for a second. Once nighttime struck, Ayumu went back to his room, not feeling too different at all. He changed into his pajamas, got ready for bed, and crawled under the covers. For the first time since this killing game, Ayumu went into a deep sleep.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The next day came surprisingly fast, but Ayumu found himself not wanting to leave his bed. The covers had a comforting grip on him, for they felt somewhat heavier than usual. The morning announcement broke him out of his tired stupor, and Ayumu climbed out of the covers.

Although it wasn’t obvious, Ayumu could tell that something was off. First of all, he found himself having to bend his legs a little less in order to get out of bed. Okay, nothing too strange. When he went to change clothes, he noticed that his clothes felt a bit... looser on his body. Maybe he lost weight? He hasn’t really been eating much since the killing game, no matter how delicious Narumi’s food was. But then as he could hear someone knock on the door, he noticed that the doorknob was a bit closer to his face last time.

Seishi was at the other side of the door, and he was immediately struck speechless the second he saw Ayumu.

“Uh... greetings... Mr. Fujimori...” Seishi sputtered out, still eying Ayumu up and down.

“Hey, Seishi...” Ayumu murmured awkwardly. The two boys left together.

As they walked towards the dining hall, Ayumu felt Seishi’s gaze heat up on him. Why was Seishi staring at him? Was it something on his face?

When Seishi and Ayumu got in, it became everyone who was staring at Ayumu. Some were scanning him up and down, others were whispering to the person next to them, and others gazed at him worriedly. He got his plate of breakfast from Narumi... noticing that the fork was slightly bigger.

As everyone ate, people kept glancing at Ayumu every now and then. That was when the unlucky boy snapped.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” He asked, nervousness in his voice.

“It’s nothing against you, Ayumu, it’s just that...” Saiji trailed off mid sentence.

“Something seems different about you,” Kego finished.

“Nothing really feels-.” Ayumu was cut off by a yellow aura encasing his body. A brief pulling sensation encased his muscles, and then the aura wiped away. Ayumu noticed that he could no longer touch his heels to the floor.

“W-what the fuck?!” Kazuomi stuttered.

“Is it just me, or did Ayumu get shorter?” Narumi asked, finishing her toast.

“No, Ms. Osone, we all saw it too,” Seishi replied.

“Did an evil spirit do this?!” Kasumi gasped.

“Calm down, everyone! Big sis is sure that it’s just a one time thi-! ⊙﹏⊙” poor Marin was cut off by the yellow aura encasing Ayumu’s body again, knocking him down a couple of inches.

Now everyone was freaking out.

“Is Ayumu just going to keep shrinking?!” Aruma yelled.

“D-definitely not! He has to stop eventually-!” Saiji stammered, rudely cut off by Monodora entering the room.

“Hate to tell ya this, prayer boy, but Ayumu isn’t gonna stop shrinking!” Monodora laughed.

“But if he keeps shrinking...” Akira mumbled, showing his own form of unease.

“Then he’s going to get too small for us to even see!” Misuzu finished.

“Correct!” Monodora cackled. “And he’s just gonna keep shrinking... and shrinking... and shrinking...!”

“Tell us what we could do to fucking fix this right now, you monochrome piece of shit!” Kazuomi yelled, seething with rage.

“Woah, woah, no need to get hasty!” Monodora laughed. The yellow aura encased Ayumu’s body yet again, which shrunk him down even more. “And the answer is simple, KILL SOMEONE! Bye for now! Upupupupu!” And with that laugh, Monodora disappeared.

“This is baaaaad!” Maiko yelled, looking at Ayumu.

“Oh, puh-lease, we are not going to give in to that c*cksucker’s motive!” Kasumi yelled.

“But... Ayumu...” Nico started. The yellow aura struck again, shrinking Ayumu down by a couple of more inches. Seishi looked lost in thought.

“Wait!” He spoke up. “There is a way! Mr. Monodora said that there is a chemistry room!”

“How’s that going to help Ayumu?!” Mikoto hissed.

“There are certain chemicals that Mr. Fujimori needs in order to stop the shrinking!” Seishi spoke.

“Then what are we fucking waiting for?! Let’s get them!” Kazuomi yelled.

“Wait, someone should stay with Ayumu! If no one watches him, we could step on him by accident!” Saiji pointed out, worry overtaking the voice of the typically cool and refined undertaker.

“I’ll do it,” Mikoto volunteered. “The rest of you, go!”

The other 13 students nodded, running off, leaving Mikoto alone with Ayumu.

————

Mikoto knelt down next to Ayumu, wincing as he shrunk further. Something in the back of the girl’s mind wouldn’t stop nagging her.

She failed.

She failed to protect Ayumu Fujimori, the Ultimate Unlucky Student.

Now he was going to shrink into nothingness if her classmates don’t hurry the fuck up.

“Uh... thanks for watching over me,” Ayumu spoke in an attempt to make conversation. Mikoto just nodded. Ayumu’s chest now lined up with the bench. “Mikoto? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Ayumu...” she mumbled, clutching her leg in worry.

“It’s not your fault, Mikoto, in case you were thinking that,” Ayumu spoke.

“It kind of is. I was supposed to protect you,” Mikoto hissed. That’s when she realized her error.

“Protect... me?” Ayumu echoed. He was knocked down a couple of more inches. Mikoto’s heart raced. He was now about the same height as Kego.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you this, but... my Ultimate talent is the Ultimate Bodyguard,” she spoke. Ayumu shrunk down more.

“A bodyguard?!” Ayumu echoed, still shrinking.

“Exactly. And as a bodyguard, I failed.” Mikoto grumbled. Ayumu placed a hand on Mikoto’s, which was now about the size of her entire palm.

“Hey, Seishi is gonna fix this! He and the others should be back anytime soon!” Ayumu reassured her. Mikoto gave a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile.

“I hope so,” she mumbled, staring off into the distance.

—————

Seishi straight up wasn’t having a good time right now.

Ayumu Fujimori, the boy he grew to care for, was now in severe danger. He didn’t know how small he was going to be when the other 13 students came back, or if he was even going to be visible to the naked eye.

Was this... all part of his plan?

‘No, don’t think about that!’ Seishi reprimanded himself, approaching the chemistry room.

“What chemicals do we need?!” Misuzu barked out, immediately rushing inside.

Seishi told them the chemicals that they needed.

“Hey, Seishi, how do you even know this?” Kego asked, currently rummaging through the supplement shelves.

It had been when they were kids. Zen thought it would be a good idea to shoot himself with a mysterious gun to scare his brother. However, Zen wasn’t counting on the gun being a rapid-shrinking gun. They had managed to stop the shrinking with those chemicals, but Zen now currently stood at an inch tall. Serves him right.

Seishi hoped that Ayumu would at least be bigger by the time the chemicals were obtained.

Saiji had gotten the first chemical, handing it to Seishi who responded with a ‘thank you’. Mitsunari had found the second, which Seishi immediately took given Mitsunari’s puppets being on his hands. Lastly, Kasumi had gotten the last chemical. Seishi immediately mixed them together, his heart racing in his chest.

The 13 Ultimates ran out of the classroom. Seishi’s stomach churned with nervousness. ‘Hopefully, we’re not too late...’

#gtronpa #danganronpa rebirth #tiny!ayumu #giant!literally everybody else #kudos to whoever knows what movie the title is spoofing #the-littlest-geek... posting about something OTHER than giant Saiji? It’s more likely than you think. #in this story Zen and Seishi are different people #the incredible shrinking unlucky student

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 22: Repercussions

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing:  Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

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Chapter Summary: After Montserrat's birthday, there is much to deal with and discuss...if she and Rafael could ever find a way not to end up arguing each time.

When Montserrat finally returned home, it was the morning after her birthday. By that point, many things had happened. She, for one, no longer wore her heels and had no desire to see anything but her bed. Kara, on the other hand, had gotten over her initial anger with Montserrat for leaving her birthday party unannounced. Course Montserrat didn't know that since she was just getting there.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Kara smiled in amusement as she let Montserrat into the apartment. "Doing her walk of shame, I'm assuming?"

"Shut up," Montserrat said, rubbing slightly at her temples. She threw her heels across the living room.

"Bet it's a lot harder to do when you forget your bag at your party, huh?" Kara folded her arms, outright ignoring the look of death Montserrat was sending her way. "Oh don't be looking angry with me. I'm enjoying this and you know what? I'm gonna enjoy this next part because serves you right."

Montserrat rolled her eyes, intending on shutting Kara out for the rest of the weekend until she heard a voice down the hall.

"Okay, seriously, you can't take up all the hot water like that, doll," Sonny emerged from the hallway, clearly wearing the same clothes he had the previous night which only led Montserrat to conclude he'd spent the night here. "Oh, Montse's come back," he said like nothing.

"Noooooo!" the ginger screwed her eyes shut.

Kara smirked. "Told yah!"

"Are you teasing her?" Sonny asked with a frown at the same time Montserrat once again yelled "no!" Sonny gave her a look. "Why are you screaming?"

"Are you seriously asking me that!?" Montserrat scowled. "You're here! From last night!"

"Well, yeah-"

"Shhhh!" she frantically wagged a finger at him. "If I don't see it! It's not real!"

"Oh, it was real," Kara said, walking by and dragging a hand across Sonny's back before smirking up at him. "And it was fantastic." Sonny couldn't help look proud of himself, really.

Montserrat loudly shivered. "Nope! I'm not seeing anything!"

Kara laughed. "Sorry girl, but if you got laid, so did I."

"Would you please stop saying that!" Montserrat turned away with another shiver. "Maybe if I'm lucky, the ground will just swallow me up right now."

"Okay Kara, I think she's suffered enough," Sonny said, though looked fairly amused himself.

"Yeah, alright. That's what she gets for skipping out on a party I planned for a month," Kara moved on and patted Montserrat's arm. "Least she got some action in the end." She made her way to the couch and after a moment so did Sonny.

"Oh my God," Montserrat shook her head. "I did not do anything, Kara. Gosh."

"Then where were you?"

"At Casey's."

"Casey's? What were you doing there?"

"Wallowing in pain." Montserrat blurted the words, still feeling said pain but with even more anger than the previous night. It was a struggle giving Casey some crappy excuse but luckily Casey hadn't asked a lot of questions.

It was then that Kara started noticing Montserrat's demeanor. She looked angry, but there were traces of misery. "Montse, what's wrong?" Montserrat tilted her head to the side, mouth completely shut for the moment. "Did something happen?"

"...you could say that," Montserrat's voice shook and that itself was rare.

Both Kara and Sonny exchanged glances with each other, with the latter believing Montserrat wouldn't talk if he was there.

"Maybe I should go," he resolved and started getting up when Montserrat called for him not to.

"Don't bother. I'm not going to ruin your morning."

"But someone obviously ruined yours," Kara's eyes looked her best friend over. "What happened?"

Montserrat passed a hand down her messy curls and heaved a heavy sigh. "Screw it." She could really use some support and she was sure that Kara would be a good candidate, as well as Sonny. Montserrat walked over to the couch and sat herself in-between Kara and Sonny, now wearing a big pout on her face. "So, as it turns out, you were right Kara."

Kara blinked. "I was? I mean, of course I was. But if you want to be more specific about what I was right about...you could." She looked over Montserrat's head to see Sonny and shrugged in confusion.

Montserrat's shoulders slumped as she sighed again. "I left your party to go have drinks with Rafael."

Kara's eyes blinked rapidly before a smile took over her face. "All is forgiven!"

"No!" Montserrat said flatly, putting a dent into the woman's growing excitement.

"Hey wait a minute," frowned Sonny, shifting on the couch to better face Montserrat, "I called him and he shouted at me that he didn't know where you were because he hadn't even come."

"He's a lawyer; he's a liar," Montserrat said pointedly. "I told him not to say anything."

"Why?" Kara asked.

"Because I wanted to avoid your schoolgirl squeals."

"Well...that's offensive."

"You want to know what's offensive? The rejection I got." Yup, there was the bitterness starting to settle in. Montserrat ignored the looks she was getting because she needed to get this all out in the air once and for all. "He gave me a necklace-" she gestured to the ballerina necklace sitting around her neck.

Kara gawked at it. "Oh that's pretty!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. So I asked him if he could help me put it on…"

"Oh that's sneaky," chuckled Kara. "I do that too."

Now Sonny frowned at that admission. "Hey...you do. That's a trick!?" Kara's smirk was answer enough.

"I didn't mean it to be a trick," Montserrat clarified, getting more frustrated as she retold the story. Just thinking about the ending brought back the rage she felt but even more of despondence that came with it. "I was really only trying to put it on but then...then I don't know. I felt things. I turned around and he was just...he was just there and I...I couldn't help it. I kissed him."

"Go Montse," Kara nudged the ginger on her side.

"Yeah, and then he said it wouldn't work." Montserrat huffed. "It was unprofessional. There's an age difference, the way we behave with each other…"

"What?" came Kara's sharpened snap.

"Yeah!"

"The nerve!"

"Well," Sonny knew what he was getting himself into the moment he spoke up. Both women threw him similar looks. "I mean, a guy like Barba? Yeah. That was bound to happen."

"What?" frowned Montserrat. "He was 'bound' to reject me? I thought you two were hell-bent that we should get together-"

Sonny quickly raised his hands to show he came in peace. "No, wait a minute! That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

Kara's face behind Montserrat was one warning Sonny to be careful.

"I was just saying that, being who Rafael is, he would say something like that. I never said he meant it," Sonny visibly relaxed when he saw Montserrat's glare begin falter. "It's just his natural self to be cautious."

"What, so I'm going to ruin him and his career?" Montserrat's face contorted to offense. this conversation is not making her feel better, unlike what she thought it would.

"No, but maybe he thinks it could ruin yours. Look, bottom line is, you're the only one who was there so you know if he meant whatever happened between you two."

"...when did you become my best friend?" Montserrat asked with a low chuckle. Sonny honestly couldn't answer that, but he had a small laugh himself when Montserrat hugged him.

"Right here guys," Kara said on the side, feigning offense she was being left out.

~0~

The weekend seem to pass by quicker than one would have liked, and before Montserrat knew it she was back at SVU beginning the week with a possible gangrape. Luckily for her, no one except Sonny knew what happened that weekend, so it was pretty much a regular Monday at work.

Their victim was a 16 year old girl found at dawn. After a series of events, they discovered her real identity but at the same time losing her at the hospital. It was clear she didn't want to talk to the police, but that wouldn't stop them from finding her. They searched for the young girl, who turned out to be named Clare Wilson, not Erin Fogarty as they previously believed.

"So, our vic is Clare Wilson. Sixteen. Raped by a VIP guest at the strip club where she works," Nick went over their pinboard they were compiling of the case.

Sonny crossed paths with Nick to come point at a picture of an older man who barely had hair. "But the club owner, Perry Cannavaro, won't give up the rapist's name."

"She's 16," Montserrat read over their details from the table. "How the hell did she get into that job in the first place?"

She was looking over their initial photos of Clare and found the girl reminded her of her niece, Juliana. While Juliana was 15, not 16, the fact was her niece could've ended up in those clutches if the wrong things would've happened. Even the way Clare spoke and acted was that of a normal teenager. The rebellious pink highlights in Clare's hair was proof enough.

"She ran away from her mother's abusive home," Olivia said.

"We're going to bring her into a group home and make sure she's safe there," Amanda after putting down her desk phone. "Just settled everything with the head."

Fin strode into the room looking annoyed and angry. "Just talked to Perry again and, shocker, he's not talking. He definitely knows who the rapist is."

"Shocker," Sonny made a face.

"Alright, Liv, we can move Clare down to the group home today," Amanda got up from her desk, ready to do that.

"Right. You and Novak go move Clare to the group home. See if you can jog her memory about the rapist," Olivia pointed the two women forwards. "The rest of us have our work cut out for us."

~0~

Clare has very little to take with her, but she still ready to go with it. She held her box of clothes and followed Montserrat and Amanda down the blue hallway of the group home.

"Now this guy definitely knew Perry," Amanda was telling the girl. "You sure you can't remember anything about him?"

Clare shook her head. "No."

"Perry thinks that this will all go away," Montserrat rolled her eyes.

"Guess he knows."

Montserrat looked back at the girl with sympathy. It was clear she was used to things going wrong in her life. "Well, we're not dropping this, Clare, okay? We're gonna keep putting pressure on Perry. We don't just go away."

Clare shrugged. "Whatever. I'm out of there." She was led into a small room with one window at the end. "This place- they seem okay."

"You know, Clare, you want to turn your life around, they'll support you here," Amanda hoped Clare would get the message. "Stay clean, stay sober. Make curfew."

"I guess it's time." Clare looked out the window and saw a cherry blossom tree on the other side. "I have a tree outside my window. That's nice."

"We'll check in on you, okay?" Montserrat said just so that Clare knew they wouldn't abandon her out of the blue. And, it could also serve as a reminder that they would be looking in to see if she was making good on her and devar to get clean.

"Clare Wilson?" a woman in an officer's jacket strode into the room, followed by another officer. She held up a badge for them to see. "Hudson County Sheriff Department."

Montserrat exchanged a look with Amanda, neither of them knew what the hell is going on but they were sure it wasn't going to be good.

"Detective Rollins," Amanda introduced herself and showed her badge, prompting over to Montserrat who also raised her badge. "That's Detective Novak. How can we help you?"

The Hudson officer didn't look the least fazed by the detectives. "Arrest warrant for Clare Wilson." She motion to the other officer with her to take Claire into custody and then raised the warrant for Amanda and Montserrat to see.

Monster had snatched the warrant from the woman to look at it herself. "What the hell for?" Her eyes quickly skin the papers to see.

"Credit card fraud and grand larceny."

"New Jersey, though!" Montserrat quickly said.

"She worked in New York. And a Jersey City strip club."

Amanda blocked the officer was trying to take Clare away from them. "Hold up. You got the wrong girl."

Clare, on the other hand, didn't look like she was confused by it. "No, I worked in Perry's other club too. He made me overcharge customers-"

Amanda quickly waved a hand in front of the girl's face to stop her from going any further. "-stop talking, Clare. And ask for a lawyer. Not one word."

All Clare did was shrug her shoulders as they took her away.

~0~

"You know, the fact that Perry has connections with the Hudson Police department does not bode well." Fin sat at his desk with a weariness that was slowly creeping from one detective to the next. Their case was about to get even more difficult, because it wasn't already.

"Whoever this rapist must be top notch for Perry to go through these extents to lock up Clare," Montserrat leaned back in her chair. She had the tip of her pen locked between her teeth in a relentless chewing.

"Whoever he is, Perry thought he could play us so let's give him a good game," Nick resolved and would definitely give the man a good match if given the chance.

"They're back," Sonny pointed towards the door where Amanda and Olivia were crossing through. "You think Barba gave them something good?"

"Gotta be by the looks of her," Fin's comment made Montserrat look back to see Olivia, Amanda, Rafael and a dark-haired woman none of them knew.

Montserrat briefly crossed gazes with Rafael and, despite her efforts, she had to glare. However, Rafael just took it without one of his own. He thought he deserved it. In his mind, he did.

"So, what happened?" Nick curiously eyed the dark-haired woman.

"U.S Assistant Attorney, Connie Rubirosa," the woman introduced herself and held a hand to shake with them. "I'm here to help you with your case."

"I didn't know we needed help from the feds," Sonny said, giving a look to the rest of the squad.

"Well your friend called me over," Rubirosa nodded her head at Rafael. "Lucky he did because we've been looking at Perry Cannavaro for a while now. He's part of a ring that targets runaways. Puts them to work in his clubs, gets them hooked on drugs, and then they owe him."

"And the feds can't shut him down?" asked Fin.

"Well, we're trying to. The problem is that a lot of the vics go back to the life. Disappear, decide not to testify. What can you guys tell me about Clare Wilson?"

"She has had it hard, but has hit rock bottom," Amanda answered. "I think she knows that these clubs are a dead end."

"Will she make a good witness?"

"She wants to turn things around. She's credible," Olivia reassured the woman.

"Maybe that's why Perry pulled some strings and had her arrested."

"She's being arraigned later today in Hudson County. What do you know about Prosecutor Masconi?" Rafael inquired since he knew they'd have to deal with the prosecutor soon.

"Well, he's got a big ego. Bills himself as a reformer," Rubirosa said sourly, as if she'd already had the pleasure of meeting him. "But he's not gonna want to look like he's protecting a sex trafficker. Tell him that Clare is testifying in our grand jury case against Perry. See if that'll hold him off until she does."

"Okay, Benson, you up for a drive to Jersey?" Rafael asked the woman.

"I'm Acting Squad Commander. I can't just get up and leave. These guys might destroy my office," Olivia jerked a thumb at the others.

"Heavy lies the crown."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him then pointed a finger at Sonny. "Carisi can join you. Should make a lovely trip, don't you think?"

Now it was Rafael's turn to roll his eyes. At least he could get amusement somewhere in his life at the moment. he was sure all he needed to do was look at Montserrat for a full minute for her to want to kill him.

"Actually, Sarge," Sonny started getting up from his seat, "I think it would be good for Clare to see someone she originally talked to. Montserrat, for example."

Montserrat's dark eyes snapped up to the man. And if Sonny wasn't in public with her, he would've feared for his life. If there was something Montserrat Novak was good at, it was her death glares.

It seemed Rafael knew that about her because right now he was giving Sonny a 'be careful look'.

"I like it," Olivia agreed. She was blissfully in the blue of everything and it showed.

"But Liv-" Montserrat turned her chair to brunette, "-I think I can stay here and do more digging on Perry and his clubs."

"No, I think Sonny's got the right idea," Olivia shook her head. "Besides, you said Clare reminded you of your niece so who better to offer support than you?"

"...is that what I said?" Montserrat gritted her teeth together. "Damn."

There were only a few things to prepare in order to leave for Hudson County and while Olivia, Rafael and Rubirosa worked it out, Montserrat had her go at Sonny out on the street.

"It's like you and Kara are hell-bent on making my life miserable!" she shouted without a care of who heard her. "First, it was reassuring me that Rafael did indeed have feelings for me and then when that failed-" she said with a spat, "-you move on to make it impossible to avoid being in a room with him? What the hell!?" she frantically pushed Sonny's chest, not that the man would fight back.

"It was not my intention, Montse. I just think avoiding isn't going to get you anywhere," he said, irritatingly calm. "Same for Barba. You need to get it out-"

"-I did!" Montserrat snapped. "That's why I'm here in this awful situation!"

"It's a misunderstanding and I will help even if you hate me for it."

Montserrat's face fell flat. "Oh no, I am going to K-I-double-L you! And the only reason I spelled it out is because we're standing outside a precinct!"

Sonny took it all with a nod. Oh boy, Rafael was in for a ride if this did happen to work out for them. Sonny had come to really like Montserrat but there was no way in hell he could ever date that woman.

"We have 2 hours until Clare is arraigned," Rafael walked up to them, though clearly kept a distance from Montserrat. "You're going to drive with the sirens on, right?"

Sonny nodded. "What did you think? I'll go bring the car around."

"And I will go help," Montserrat attempted to say after Sonny had left, but at this point she didn't care if it was a logical excuse.

"No, Montserrat, wait," Rafael had grabbed her arm but she sent him a glare that immediately made him let go. "Sorry. I feel like we need to talk-"

"-but what about?" she pretended to be confused for a brief moment before returning to her angry state. "I got your message and I'll follow through. Don't worry, I would never want to be a hazard for your job and your career."

"That's never what I said," he frowned.

"How would you know? You walked out on me!"

Point one for Montserrat.

"I didn't mean to, I was just…" Rafael didn't know what it was like being speechless, and much less what to do when he was speechless. He felt incredibly guilty, not to mention hurt himself.

"You were just what?" Montserrat folded her arms over her chest. She waited for him to say something but when he didn't, she shook her head. "I tried to listen to Kara and be understanding but the fact you can't even string three words together is disappointing. And frustrating."

"It's not easy, Montserrat," he snapped. "I don't know what to do, alright? I've never been in a situation like this."

"So you're clueless, what a surprise!"

"Would you stop acting like a child? Maybe if you calmed down we could be civil and have a conversation-"

"-about what!?" Montserrat's snap was loud enough to grab attention from some of the officers passing by. "Sorry," she said in a sarcastically hushed tone, "I'm jeopardizing your job again."

"I did not say anything about that and you damn well know it!" Rafael's snap was on the same level as hers. If they'd been thinking more clearly, they would've noticed that even to argue they were the same. Of course they would clash. "When I talked about our jobs, I meant that they would clash. We would have to disclose to our bosses if we were serious about things. I never meant that you would harm my career. If anything, I would harm yours."

Montserrat wanted to continue being angry, but it became harder to do with that statement. It was the same thing Sonny had told her. "What?"

"I've been at this sort of job for 10 years so believe me I have pissed off more people than I can count. You let them know you're dating me and I guarantee you that you'll encounter obstacles for promotions."

"That's ridiculous-"

"-No it's not," Rafael spoke over her. "You've only been a detective for a couple years, right? No more than five?" Her silence was answer enough. "And it's not just that, Montserrat. There's the age difference-"

Montserrat groaned. "Oh my God, it's not like it's that much. It's literally only 6 years so you can throw that excuse away. You're just piling on excuses. I'm, regrettably now, 30 so you're going to have to take my word when I say I'm a big girl who can say 'yes'."

"How about the way we are, then? You and I...we're too matched. We bicker at least once every time we're in the same room."

"Have you ever thought that the reason we act the way we do with each other is because there's some feelings?"

The way Rafael sighed and looked away told Montserrat he had, but he was choosing to ignore it.

"The reason we're always so frustrated with each other is because we'd rather kiss than argue?" Montserrat waited a minute for him to say, but he just shook his head in rejection. "You know, for someone who's-" she raised her fingers in the air to do quotation marks, "-apparently 'a lot older than me', you're the one acting pretty childish right now."

"Don't do that," he warned but she pointed a finger at him.

"You are the one who's blatantly ignoring everything I'm putting on the table. As much as I hate to admit it, Kara was right. I was desperately trying to ignore the fact that I like you but here's me, acting like an adult, and saying what I feel. I don't understand why you're doing this to me and to yourself."

"I am so sorry, Montserrat. But believe me when I say: you can do a lot better than me," Rafael's soft tone was so uncharacteristic that it froze Montserrat. "I listed the logical facts that would interfere with whatever this would be, but don't even get me started on me."

Montserrat was caught off guard by the sentimental admission. And she would admit it if anyone asked her. Rafael was never one speak about himself, and much less what he thought about himself. Perhaps, she should've addressed that first and avoided a lot of the yelling she did. Who knows, if she could get the chance to talk about it with him...his 'logical reasons' may not even turn out to be the real problem.

But right now, time was up.

Sonny had returned with their car, so it was time to go. They were, after all, on the clock.

~ 0 ~

One day later, SVU was so stumped in their case. Clare had been arraigned and detained for pending trial in the Hudson County.

"How long is the New Jersey trial backlog?" Olivia asked Rubirosa for some type of reference. They were gathered in her office, listening to the failed visit to the county.

Rubirosa crossed her arms and thought about it for a moment. "She could be in for a year and a half."

"The county prosecutor and his wife, the ADA, they went through the motions, but Judge Dolan shut us down, hiding behind the fig leaf of Jersey's stringent anti-fraud statutes," Rafael sourly said, indicating he was still pretty irritated the judge had shut him down first before they began any process.

"They want to claim protocol, I can too," Rubirosa declared, letting her arms fall to her sides. "There's a judge I work with on the task force. I can get him to write up a court order stipulating that we need Clare in New York to testify in a pretrial hearing."

"Meanwhile, where are we with Perry?" Rafael looked at the rest for some answers.

"How do we say 'nowhere' without making it sound bad?" Amanda leaned forward to see the responses from the rest of her co-workers.

"Why don't we make some calls, get the pressure going," suggested Fin.

Olivia seemed to like the idea because she was going back to her desk, directly for her phone. "Let's hit him with an alphabet soup."

"Meanwhile, we'll get started on that writ process," Rubirosa resolved and headed for the door with Rafael. "Might get it done today if we're lucky."

"We can only hope," Rafael muttered behind her.

As they walked out of the office, Montserrat and Sonny were coming into the bullpen. The two were bickering since they'd come from a joint meeting with Kara that, unsurprisingly, turned out to be all about Montserrat.

"You're an idiot and that's final. Kara got it too," Montserrat let her bag drop on her desk. She looked over her shoulder and saw the DAs leaving together and even though she tried - like really tried - she couldn't help feel that ridiculous notion of jealousy. "They're pretty close, huh?"

"Oh, don't do that, Montse," Sonny shook his head. "They're friends. Co-workers."

Montserrat still rolled her eyes even though she knew it was a possibility.

~ 0 ~

Perry was in distress. His entire club had been shut down at 10 o'clock promptly. He had every agency at his doorstep, invading the rooms of his club.

"What the hell is going on!?" he came to stand in front of Olivia, seething with anger.

Olivia was all too happy to answer him. "So far, we have CSU in your VIP lounge and the Health Department and lmmigration going through your kitchen."

"And your sushi bar here..." Fin stopped by to point at a higher floor where a woman laid on a table with sushi placed over her like she was the table, "You better hope they don't find any human contamination on that raw fish." He flashed a smile at Perry then continued on his way.

Olivia raised her fingers to continue listing who else was visiting the building. "On their way is OSHA, New York City Department of Taxation and Finance, ATF."

Now it was Montserrat who stopped by them, and she was smirking as widely as could be. She may or may not be loving the fact she could cause some pain to someone else, and even better when they were actual scum. "You might as well shut this place down and give the girls the weekend off. Scuse me," she continued walking and followed Amanda down the cruddy hallway.

"Excuse me!" Amanda shouted as she ripped open all the room curtains on one side, while Montserrat pulled the other side's. "Scuse me, fellas. These nice folks here are from CSU they're gonna be executing a luminol check for fluids on these couches."

"Any of you been here before?" Montserrat's eyes flickered from one guilty man to the next. Most of them raised their guilty hands. "Yeah, figures. Swab 'em all!" She stepped aside so the group behind her could get started on their work.

Out in the main room, Perry was still complaining. "Well, this is harassment!"

"What, you think you're a big guy, getting your buddies in Jersey to lock up a 16-year-old rape victim?" Nick had the pleasure of standing in front of the man's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Who are you paying off? Masconi? Judge Dolan?"

Perry blinked at him then looked at the rest of the squad's waiting figures. "Wait a minute. Is this all because I didn't give up the name of a patron? Huh? All right, all right. Say I give him up, all right? Is this circus gonna go away?"

Olivia scoffed and turned over a clipboard she'd been holding, listing all the agencies she'd brought with them. "Oh, that's not my call. You see, once these agencies get involved, it really takes on a life of its own. Take Mr. Cannavaro in."

"What?" Perry looked both ways as Sonny and Fin grabbed him from behind. "Hey, call Arnie!"

"Hey Liv," Amanda moved beside the Sergeant, "Rubirosa got the writ expedited for Clare's release. Barba wants to serve the papers to Dolan first thing tomorrow morning, Jersey City, 8:00 AM."

"It is Amanda's turn," Montserrat said before Olivia got any ideas. She didn't feel prepared to face Rafael again without wanting to argue.

"Okay, go with him," Olivia agreed easily. "Make sure that Clare sees a friendly face when she gets out." Amanda nodded her head, but there was something else she was planning on doing tonight first.

#ocappreciation #svu #rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba fics #svu fics #rafael barba imagines #svu imagines #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget me

[iguanasarecute]

One shower stall, Two pairs of legs

[Bakugou x Reader]

summary: For the love of god, UA had a water shortage. A laborius training made all of you debilitated; the exhaustion gave all of you the thirst for being refreshed. Hitting on the limited showers connected to the lockers, well umm... someone crashed in with you. {from their third year}

warning: smut, profanity

"Fuck you bastard!" The feral classmate of yours growled at you; his PE uniform marinated with sweat, dripping blood from the scar you gave him during your training.

Your neon duffel bag slunged to your shoulders, "I'm just better than you. Admit it," you rolled your eyes as the towel on your hand roamed around your face. Your fellow classmates had their way on the locker rooms, while this goddamn pomeranian keeps barking at you for the past ten-minutes.

"Piss off (Y/N)! I'm gonna make you fucking suffer!" His husky voice thundered as the ash-blonde stomped his way in the Men's lockers, finally. You shook your head, eyeing the stubborn Ash-blonde, while you also jolted to your locker.

The familiar faces waved and offered you a sweet smile; your pink friend, Ashido, chuckled, "That's what you get for beating Bakugou's ass," she adjusted the towel wrapped around her body.

Momo gave you a sympathetic glare, "Bakugou's voice were heard here. Such harsh words!" Her soft hands patted your shoulders, "Though, he did hesitated to throw you punches. He went easy with you,"

You bit the inside of your cheeks, "Geez, should I thank him for that?" you sarcastically said, as the three of you giggled. You shifted your eyes to your classmates, exiting the room and having their way to the connected shower rooms, "They still haven't fixed the pipes, eh?"

Ashido nodded, "The Villain attack from two days ago did cause a massive destruction. Mostly affecting our water pipes," She grinned at you, "I'll be going now, I feel soooo sticky with all this sweat from beating up Sero," Momo and Ashido gave you one last glare as they walked out the room.

You grabbed the hem of your shirt and raised it; leaving you fucking naked alone in the room. Your fingers combed your sweaty hair, as you sandwiched yourself in a white towel, making your way inside the shower room.

The monotonous sound of flowing water entered your ears; searching an empty stall while you let yourself in, as the towel you're in, dropped. You turned the squeaking lever in a clockwise direction, awaiting the water flow down to you. You turned the lever again, nothing, "Ahh. Fuck!" your foot kicked the wall.

"(Y/N)?" Hagakure's voice called at the stall beside you.

You wrapped your body with the towel again, "Yeah?"

"Your shower's busted?"

You tied your hair into a bun, "Yep. I'm not so lucky today," you groaned.

Hagakure giggled, "There's an extra working shower across the gym. Give it a go. We don't have enough water supply at dorm soooo,"

The thought of a chilly shower lit up your face, "Oh god, really? Better get my ass there. Thank you!" You galloped as you poked your head outside, seeing if the coast is clear. You can't believe that you're sprinting across the gym, with only a towel covering your temples. But hey, you need a fucking shower.

You eyed the shower meters away from you as something catched your attention at the corner of your eyes. Oh fuck, oh fuck. You were ready to hit that something. Turns out, it was just a cat. Must be one of Aizawa's cats.

You shrugged as you continuously walked to the shower room. It was a single pristine stall, just for any emergency showers or whatsover, but it did, have running water. You tossed your towel at the corner as you felt the water touch every single corner of your body. You sighed in relief. This frigid shower couldn't be better.

~~~

[ time rewind ] : BAKUGOU

The Ash-blonde snarled at that nosy extra who embarassed the hell out of him. Though with that fortuitous battle with (Y/N); he did admit to himself how he was amused because of his opponent's eagerness. He smirked as he reminisce the training battle with (Y/N). Katsuki went easy with his rival; just because he kinda, sorta, has a soft spot for her. Well all he does was yell at her, or slap her with nasty words... but he isn't an expressive person, and he has his ways of showing it; for example, he adores everytime the both of them punches each other with insults.

Bakugou growled at the shower room, where all stalls was occupied, "One of you extras get the fuck out or I'll explode this shit!" He wrapped a piece of cloth at his wound.

"Calm your cock bro. Just wait in line," Kaminari yelled.

The crimson-red eyes of his twitched, "HAHHHHHH?!"

Kirishima cackled, "You yelled at (Y/N) dude! Not a manly move. The water pipes' goddess is punishing you,"

"WAIT 'TIL ALL OF YOU GET OUT! I'M GOING TO KILL—"

"Do not make obnoxious conversations!" Iida's voice shouted, probably chopping on the air right now.

Denki coughed, "Bakugou there's a shower stall at the other side of the gym. The single-stalled one. We're going to have a looooong time with this,"

"We're like fucking prisoners so thirsty for a goddamn bath," Sero sighed.

Katsuki clicked his tongue as he mumbled under his breath; making his way to the said shower stall. An abyssinian cat licking its paws, blocked his way as the crimson-red eyes of his rolled. He sprinted in the shower stall; while Bakugou raised his eyebrows. Why the fuck are the lights opened, and an irresponsible bastard just stranded the fucking water flowing.

His warm rough hands grabbed the cool door, and shot it open.

Oh shit.

~~~

Your fingers combed your saturated hair, nuzzling every drop of the rigid water. You were confident that nobody would infiltrate your shower. Since everybody in your class was already freshening up, on their own.

Until,

"WHAT THE FUCK BAKUGOU?!" Your arms spreaded accross your body, struggling to cover your breasts and your pussy. You gave him a stare, but the Ash-blonde just stood there, ogling at your exposed body, "WHAT ARE Y— GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Bakugou's cheek flustered as it turned red; avoiding your gaze, and looking at the floor, "Don't you know how to fucking lock the goddamn shitty ass door?!" He thundered.

"The water is fucking running! Don't you have fucking ears?! Or a brain atleast to conclude that somebody is inside?!" You kept your arms locked on your private parts. Your eyes were darted on his annoying brainless head, when you just realized, that he's completely naked too, except for the towel covering his lower part. You gulped, and memorized the sight of his eight-pack. You won't repudiate, he does have a fine body.

"The fuck are you staring at?" He spat. Shit he caught you, "What a perv," He playfully smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Says the person who's in struck just by staring at my goddamn body!" You growled.

His iconic devilish smirk just got wider, "You noticed?" His hands slid on the door as he locked it, advancing towards you, his Crimson-Red eyes glued to you, in libido. His tongue clicked, "So, deadass extras took all the showering stalls," the water flowing down his body as well.

Your arms, shielding your chest, now brushing on his hard abs, "What are you implying," you whispered in a monotonous way.

Bakugou's husky voice chuckled, "Wanna share?" You looked up to him, squinting your eyes to avoid the chilly water. He leaned to you, giving you a soft kiss, were diminutive water entered your mouth. The feral Ash-blond, sure is a good kisser.

His lips were warm, as it collided with yours. He aggresively osculated you, while it slowly parted, asking permission to get in you. How can you refuse? Your lips split, as a sign of acceptance. The both of your tongues' battling, devouring each other; as he licked every corner of you. Bakugou breathed, "So you do wanna fucking share," You felt the inside of you burn, as the Ash-blonde gripped on your arms, and slid it to your sides; revealing your bare breasts, and your pussy, to his.

The rigid water touched your chests, while you grabbed the soaked towel veiling his member, "Your towel's getting wet, Bakugou," your voice shaked.

He bit his lips to your obvious statement, "What are you implying," he mocked you by imitating your voice, "Rightttt, (Y/N). It's getting fucking wet," he coughed, "Would you... Would you be a goodgirl and get it off me?" Your hands touched the towel, as you complied with his command, "Goodgirl," Bakugou gripped your ass and pulled you to his hard frame, "Touch my dick and feel how hard you just fucking made me," he whispered, while your shaking hands grabbed his... long, hard, trobbing member.

"I want it in me Bakugou," your voice commanded, as the Ash-blonde chuckled at your unexpected response.

He cupped your breasts, "Let's take it slow (Y/N)," he nuzzled on your neck, marking what was his. He agressively squeezed your butt while giving you hickeys as you moaned. His hard cock was brushing over your pussy, which made you moan harder. He sucked your breasts, biting it; as he made circles on your tummy, down to your clit. His finger went in your tighthole, while you moaned his name. Another finger entered, as he chuckled, "So wet, and tight, and we just got started," he added the third finger.

"Katsuki ughhhhh— Baby that's so good," you shrieked while your arms tangled around his arms.

His husky voice giggled, "(Y/N)... be a goodgirl and suck my dick,"

"Depends if you'll cum," you smirked while you stood on your knees, ogling at his member, "Katsuki, that's uhh... huge...,"

His warm hands grabbed your hair, "...And you like it like that," he pulled your head nearer his cock, "Come on now, babygirl," you parted your lips as it came in you, pumping, as your tongue played with it, "Goodgirl, ughhh," he moaned deeply, "Shit! Shit!" He mumbled as his hot cum went in you. You catched your breath as the Ash-blonde pulled you to stand, "I have a punishment for you for giving me this bruise," he eyed his cut wrapped with a cloth, "Turn around," his husky voice commanded as you turned around.

You bit your lip. Shit anal. Bakugou adjusted his position for an enter; just then, he was pumping. The shower stall contained by your moans, "Ka—Katsuki, I'm liking this punishment," your legs felt jiggedy as his cock exited. The warm hands of his, grabbed your hips, pushing your body at the corner, "What are you—" your eyes shifted down, Katsuki setting his dick directly at your hole. His intense eyes glared as you, signaling he's coming in. You moaned at his huge member entering you, pumping, Shit. Fuck the water shortage I love it.

~~

"Gagghh! Oi, dumbass you're taking so long!" The Ash-blonde yelled impatiently outside your locker-room. Well, both of you kinda, (not kinda) enjoyed your moment, at the separated shower stall. While you and Bakugou was devouring each other; your classmates obliviously headed back to the dorms; wondering where in the goddamn world the two of you were.

You changed into your spare clothes dumped inside your locker incase of emergencies. Yet, you didn't know, this emergency, would be having fucking sex with the Katsuki Bakugou. You whimped at your sore body, while the Crimson-red eyed man leaned on the wall outside, his warm hands burried inside his sweatpants; lingering. Bakugou was staring at the abyssinian cat, as he gawked at your jelly-legs, "You took so fucking long, your highness," he sarcastically mumbled while his muscular arms grabbed your waist to support your sloppy walking, "You look like a fucking idiot with those legs,"

A deep exhale went out your lips, "Your fault,"

His devil smirk etched on his face, as you and him, walked to reach your dorms, "I'm good at fucking, right?" He clicked his tongue, "You don't need to say so. I fucking know so,"

"Geez, I bet you did that to tons of girls already," You scoffed, while your heart felt like sinking with the thought of his rough hands groping a body that's not yours.

He clicked his tongue, "Nah just you," his warm hands collided with yours, "Wouldn't fucking do that other than you,"

Well then, you just made the moths inside my tummy dance YMCA

— • —

BONUS:

"(Y/N)! Bakugou! Where have you been?!" Kirishima thundered inside the common room; as the familiar faces gawked at the two of you in worry and curiosity.

Iida started chopping at the air, "This is unnacceptable! The both of you should orient your class where you'll be going!"

Oh fuck. Oh shit. What would we say.

You were about to open your mouth for excuses, when the Ash-Blonde whose arms are around your hips, groaned, "We just took a fucking walk! Finding the owner of a goddamn stray cat!"

Nice one.

The familiar faces blinked, some of them nodded in understandment; while the others raised their eyebrows in doubt. Deku coughed, "Are you okay (Y/N)? What happened to your legs?!" their eyes darted on your jelly-legs.

You nervously laughed, "Oh! Uhh legs? What legs? Ohhh— Uhhh... Funny story actaully— I Uhhh... It was from Uhhhhhhh," you felt Niagra falls forming on your fucking forehead, as sweat dripped all over you.

Katuski clicked his tongue and rolled his Crimson-red eyes at your bovine state, "The cat went out and then she chased it. Too much running, she got kinda sore. Then dumbass fell to the ground," He gave death-glares to the extras who gave him suspicous looks, "That's it. Don't fuck around,"

Holy shit. I love this Pinocchio right here.

The Ash-blonde thinks that jabbering fabrication was utterly noxious. He doesn't like lying, stating that there's no point at it. Though, this perplexed, yet wonderful moment he had wih you; would be risky to be publicized. It was both of your moment, and was yours to keep.

Fucking water pipes started it all.

END

by: i.k.

r e b l o g !

i promised on my last that my next post (this) would be a soft one...it got delayed. i accept requests rn!

more lemons by me:

U.A.'s lingerie collection ; Self Pleasure's Mishaps ; FUCK.DATE.KILL ; Sext...with a Pro-hero? ; House Arrest

#sorry had to do this lol #bnha #bnha lemon #bnha smut #boku no hero academia #mha #mha smut #mha lemon #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou lemon #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo lemon #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou lemon #bakugou smut #bakugo lemon #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #kacchan #kacchan x reader #eijiro kirishima #kiribaku #shouto todoroki #bakudeku #izuku midoriya

[armsdealing]

TAGGED: @generationalsins​ TAGGING: @starrdew​​​​ (hel) @undones​​​​ (griff) @generationalsins​​​​ (do it but 4 cassandra) @tribeof​​​​ (lilith) @neotropical​​​​ (ivy) @brutlist​​​​ @stillbreathes​​​ (your pick!) @naayaaab​​​ @belissimae​​​ @apearlwrites​​​ (luisa)

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

NAME -  charles derane EYE COLOUR -  brown HAIR STYLE / COLOUR -  a short, peppered brunette with salt on the sides. HEIGHT -  6′4″ CLOTHING STYLE - charles’ wardrobe is best described as practical, as though everything he wears is done with the forethought that it can get ruined at any moment for any reason. denim and utility shirts are a staple, as are henleys and sweaters, jackets and coats, some a little more shabby than others. when he has to dress up, he wears dress shirts and slacks, and just maybe a jacket. but never a full blown suit. expect earth tones and just nothing crazy about it.  BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE - height, probably. and the fact he could probably bench press you. he’s also nearing 50. 

LAYER TWO : THE INSIDE

FEARS -  he mostly worries for his son. other than that, he’s had such a long, messy life he’s practically been made fearless by it. GUILTY PLEASURE -  police procedurals.  BIGGEST PET PEEVE -  he doesn’t like people that act too chummy with him from the get go or at all if this level of closeness has not been established by him. he’s gotten a bit soft over the years, yea, and far more tolerant in some aspects, but he will still bluntly tell you to fuck off (or worse) if you get too trusting.  AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE - my guy he didn’t even KNOW he’d make it this far in life, we’re making it up as we go along!

LAYER THREE : THOUGHTS

FIRST THOUGHTS UPON WAKING UP:  "the sun’s too fucking bright.” WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT MOST:  his son. his pets. food. WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED: he stays a few minutes in bed completely silent, listening for the activity going on outside his room and outside his apartment, thinking about the things he did before bed, and if anything felt off. things he brushed aside initially (small things, such as a loose deadbolt in his door, not loose enough to come off, but loose enough for him to notice) get scrutinized before he concludes it really was nothing after all and he falls sleep.  WHAT YOUR BEST QUALITY IS: “there’s no such thing.” the resilience. even the loyalty, maybe. 

LAYER FOUR : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES -  single TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED - he doesn’t care about people’s feelings toward him. if he had to pick, he’d go for respect, but again, he doesn’t really care.  BEAUTY OR BRAINS - brains DOGS OR CATS -  he has a dog and a cat, and he loves them both equally. this being said, he is a cat in human form.

LAYER FIVE : DO YOU…

LIE - always. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF - sure. BELIEVE IN LOVE - that it exists? of course.  WANT SOMEONE -  there’s interest, sure. 

LAYER SIX : EVER BEEN …

BEEN ON STAGE: no. DONE DRUGS:  yes. he smoked pot while as young as 14, and will still dabble occasionally. did some lines at 22, but hasn’t done more coke since then. in his 20s he also tried other party drugs and LSD.  CHANGED WHO YOU WERE TO FIT IN: never. it’s pretty much his defining characteristic. 

LAYER SEVEN : FAVORITES

FAVOURITE COLOR -  gray. FAVOURITE ANIMAL - cats. FAVOURITE MOVIE - he doesn’t really have a favorite, but oldboy (the original one) was pretty interesting. FAVOURITE GAME - he plays sudoku on his phone.

LAYER EIGHT : AGE

DAY YOUR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE - december 18, 2019! save the date. HOW OLD WILL YOU BE -  49! he’s old.  AGE YOU LOST YOUR VIRGINITY - 15. DOES AGE MATTER -  yes.

LAYER NINE : IN A PERSON

BEST PERSONALITY - assertive people, people who take no shit from anyone, with good senses of humor. BEST EYE COLOUR - he doesn’t care. BEST HAIR COLOUR - doesn’t care.  BEST THING TO DO WITH A PARTNER - sex, obviously. but he’s taken to enjoying eating with others. 

LAYER TEN : FI NISH THE SENTENCE

I LOVE - … “cael.” I FEEL -  … “sleepy.” I HIDE - …“nothing.” I MISS - …“no one.” I WISH - …“i’d gone about some things differently.” this is the most sincere he’ll ever be. 

#* charles. #misc.

[dreamttempest]

Break Reason: Prologue

What's past is prologue. -- William Shakespeare

BREAK REASON

Life taught me countless lessons. It shaped who I was, who I am, and who I will be. I can name most of my lessons off the top of my head; however, one stands out above all the others.

All men are created evil.

When I was four years old, I learned that everyone alive is inherently selfish and evil, myself included. I guess that's why I didn't fight back that hard. Why bother? They're evil. I'm evil. I was just getting what I deserved. I killed my father after all, and what could atone for that? In the mind of a child, I saw myself guilty of an ultimate evil, so I simply looked forward to the day I die... The day I won't hurt anyone ever again.

However, that all changed when I met him, my hero and redeemer. They all think he saved me from torture, captivity, and revolting evil. They couldn't be more wrong. Shota Aizawa saved me from myself. He was the first of many.

BREAK REASON

Shota Aizawa didn't believe in fate, and he would say the same if asked. Fate exists as something inherently illogical. To assume that things are meant to happen in a certain way seemed too easy. Admitting that fate exists meant he'd resign himself to the world's inclinations, and Aizawa had no intention of doing that. If he saw someone in trouble, he'd help instead of resigning it to fate. It's why he became a hero in the first place. Despite his melancholy exterior, the young man ranked helping others as his second favorite thing in life. His cats remained firmly entrenched in first place.

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. If he believed in fate, maybe he'd just go along with Midnight's forced job proposal. Instead of fighting criminals himself, he could train the next group of heroes at Japan's top hero academy. Of course, the help wouldn't be as direct and meant he'd be paid less, but selfishness was also illogical.

For some unexplainable reason, Midnight revealed to him that the high school U.A., hired her. While he has no idea why that principal decided to put the 18+ Only Hero: Midnight in a classroom full of impressionable youth, he even has less of a clue why she thought he'd make a good teacher. Why she recommended him anyway confounded the man.

Shota Aizawa was a few things. First, he fought for justice as Eraser Head, an underground hero. While most craved the spotlight, he preferred to work in the shadows. A less well-known face made life easier and more effective. While U.A. has a reputation for keeping the students and faculty's privacy, he still would be forced into the spotlight. Plus, none of the students will recognize him, unlike the other famous heroes employed there, meaning they may not like him. While Aizawa doesn't care about likability, he knows teachers need stable relationships with their students to be efficient.

Second, Aizawa had the personality of a soggy sponge. He didn't smile. He spoke in a constant deadpan. He guided his life using logic instead of other, unreliable methods. He also placed high expectation on other heroes, but he found that logical. He placed the highest expectations on himself, pushing his body hard enough that he slept at any opportunity. Criminals committed the most and worst crimes at night, and most heroes operated by day. With light came higher visibility, so people saw their exploits which generated more money, popularity, and other frivolous things.

The man nodded at himself, deciding he shouldn't be a teacher for U.A., at least not yet. Even though his almost perfect record as a hero would make him a prime candidate, other men and women could fulfill that role more effectively. Eraser Head operates best as an underground hero, one who mostly ambushes villains.

In fact, he now waited in an alley for that very reason. A certain drug named Trigger killed of dozens over the past month. It boosted a Quirk's power significantly for a few minutes, making a villain a supervillain during that time. Three heroes had died fighting boosted villains, and the drug proved to be addictive. He concluded that this specific alley was used for dealings. Like a disease, Aizawa wanted to attack the cause rather than the symptoms; therefore, he will apprehend the dealer.

He sat perched on a building's flat roof, occasionally checking for activity. Jumping down won't be a problem, and attacking from above was his favored option. Maybe he will wait for a few more minutes, maybe a few more days. It won't matter if the results make the world safer. Another dealer will replace the captured one, but the drug won't be available in this region for at least a week. All he must do is wait for two people to arrive and make the deal.

He heard two pairs of footsteps, but he detected something off. While one sounded normal, if a little rushed, the other sounded too light. The irregular running pattern of the latter suggested this person approached total exhaustion. In addition, the hour just passed three in the morning. The hero concluded that he most likely heard a child running away from something, probably the other set of footsteps. He knew the probability of a pursuit crossing paths with him had little chance, yet the situation happened. Logic dictates that even the near impossible can be possible if given enough time.

No, this had nothing to do with fate at all.

From the left side of the alley, a figure dashed from the shadows. While the details were obscured by the night, he noticed the individual was a child's height and her frantic running suggested she was pursued. He assumed the child was female due to her longer hair.

A few seconds later, a man emerged from the shadows wearing a mask akin to a bird's beak. Aizawa recognized it as a Yakuza gang symbol, an illogical marker. While the gang had been in decline for decades, that mask meant this person had membership in a criminal organization. In other words, he could punch first and ask questions later.

"Stop running." The young man's voice came out more as a growl, but the Yakuza member spoke loudly enough for Aizawa to hear.

The girl tripped and fell onto the dirty ground. Her dress seemed old and tattered. Perhaps she was a runaway? The bandages covering her arms and legs indicated past abuse. She curled into a ball and cried, her sobbing reaching Aizawa. The stoic man had witnessed innumerable horrors during his lifetime, so it took a great deal to make his blood boil.

His blood boiled.

It was a logical reaction for humans to protect the young.

He leapt from the roof towards the Yakuza member. The man slowed down his pace, so judging his trajectory was easy. Eraser Head swooped through the air without a sound, his black and grey clothing camouflaging him in the darkness.

The villain noticed him anyway. The enemy raised his hand to touch the plummeting hero. Not knowing the man's quirk, he assumed it had something to do with physical contact, so Aizawa did the most logical thing possible. He stared at the man and did nothing to stop that hand.

The enemy's hand touched his leg.

The girl gasped as Eraser Head's heel drove itself into the man's left shoulder. The risk of kicking his head in hopes for a knockout remained too high, but crippling an arm held high chances. The villain's eyes opened wide, not in pain but surprise. The hero's assumption about the hand were proven correct.

Shota operated underground since his Quirk worked with the element of surprise. By looking at anyone, he erased their quirk, the only caveat being they regain their power every time he blinks. That was also why he wore goggles. Dry eye proved to be a problem.

By using the villain's shoulder to take the brunt of the impact, Eraser Head landed on the ground without injury. On one side of him, he faced the Yakuza member; on the other side, the girl cried. This position provided the highest chance of protecting the civilian from further harm.

"Damn you!" In total ignorance of his pain, his dislocated shoulder and a broken collar bone, the man used his left hand to slap the ground. Since Aizawa had yet to blink and the man hadn't realized his Quirk still couldn't function, the hand slap did nothing. The villain thus vulgarly cursed with enough volume for the girl to hear.

The villain screamed in agony when Eraser Head stomped on his hand and shattered bone. Before he could wrap the villain with his capturing weapon, the hero heard the girl running away again. He didn't blame her. The body contains the fight or flight mindset, and a child's best hope resided in flight. Nevertheless, this posed a new dilemma. The girl could hypothetically slip away. Considering the bandages, she could need immediate medical attention. On the other hand, the villain would escape if he chased after the girl. After working as a hero long enough, Aizawa found that villains always escaped if left alone. Knocked out, dismembered, or handcuffed. It didn't matter. Somehow, they escaped.

Considering he incapacitated this villain almost effortlessly and the girl could be in life-threatening danger, Eraser Head made the choice without a second thought.

"I'm Overhaul! You'll regre-" Before the villain could monologue about getting revenge, he delivered a kick to the head, and the villain's unconscious body crumpled to the ground. It also let Aizawa blink. He turned around and ran down the alley, searching for the girl.

He heard a shriek quickly followed by the words "murder" and "villain". Eraser Head sprinted, something he almost never had to do. His mind concluded that the villain named Overhaul wasn't the only Yakuza in the area, and the other member found that girl in public. All heroes failed, including Eraser Head. He failed to save forty-two people during his career, and he memorized all their names. Because of his shortcomings, the youngest civilian died only four days after his fifteenth birthday. This girl wasn't older than eight.

Aizawa rushed out of the ally and saw a sobbing old man clutching a purse. Another onlooker stood frozen in terror. A woman leaned out her apartment window and continued to yell about a villain and murder. She pointed at a park, a common spot for delinquents and the reason drug dealings happened in an ally close by. A final pedestrian leaned out another window with a phone pressed to his ear, most likely calling the police. An anti-Quirk strike force should arrive within twenty minutes. A few police officers will be on the scene in minutes at most.

The hero has no time for waiting. He chased after the killer. While the old man seemed distraught, Eraser Head couldn't comfort. He fought.

The girl was still nowhere to be found.

The park was the size of a block, an idea by some well-intentioned designer. Why not give children a place to play? Unfortunately, they put the park in the slums, and the countless bushes attracted the attention of the wrong crowd. It also had a few large trees, one of which vanished instantaneously. The hero hypothesized the old man clutched the purse of his deceased wife, who disappeared in the same way as the tree.

Aizawa rushed forward. This villain had an abnormally lethal Quirk, one which apparently disintegrated objects. Those were the type of Quirks which led to mass killings and the deaths of heroes. Eraser Head and his Erasing Quirk were probably one of the few counters to this villain's Quirk.

Again, fate had nothing to do with this, just coincidence.

When he heard a child scream, he recognized the voice. It sounded like the little girl from before, but there was one difference. This time, the screaming had no semblance of sanity. It sounded as if her body sucked in all possible air before pushing it out with the sole purpose of making a bloodcurdling wail.

He followed the sound of that voice to save her from the villain, but he stopped in his tracks. Taking deep breaths, he stood in front of the girl, and they were alone. There was no other villain.

In the pale moonlight, her hair seemed like a mixture between blue and white. Her eyes were a piercing crimson. Her arms and legs not wrapped in bandages carried scars, mostly from needles. On the right side of her forehead, a horn protruded from her flesh. Her white dress had strains from filth and blood. She clutched her legs in the fetal position and screamed after every breath. By chance, her hand grazed against the bush, and it vanished in the same moment.

Eraser Head reclassified the situation. Only one villain, Overhaul, chased after the girl. She was the one who killed, most likely an old lady. Old ladies take pity on small children, and this child seems to destroy with a touch.

This little girl has an uncontrollable Quirk. Since unauthorized public use of Quirks remained illegal, the anti-Quirk task forces arrested countless children every year. While authorities wanted to rehabilitate those users and give them control over their powers, this girl killed someone. She will be incarcerated. Death sentences normally were not given to minors.

She noticed Aizawa standing over her. She looked terrified at the sight. While his stern demeanor scared children, this girl seemed for terrified for him rather than of him.

"S-Stay away!" she pleaded. "I'll kill you too!"

He decided to classify the girl as a victim rather than a villain. The zero-tolerance policy of the government was illogical. The child held no intent to harm others; therefore, he activated his Quirk. The girl gasped, and her horn shrunk to the size of a stub.

He knelt in front of her. "Until I blink, you have no Quirk."

She shook her head. "You'll die! I didn't wanna make the lady disappear, and she was so nice! I..." She squeezed her legs and whispered, "Why can't I make myself disappear? I've tried so many times but can't."

He held her small, cold hands in his, and she quivered in fear. "I don't fear you." He said those words without passion or embellishment. It was akin to mentioning the weather or accounting how many bills he must pay this week, since he viewed it that way. For the moment, she could not harm him, so he would not fear her. He held the hands of a little girl, and little girls did not scare the man.

"W-Who are you?" Her eyes lit up, like dumping gasoline on a smoldering fire. Somehow, he awoke something in the girl that she hadn't experienced in years. Hope. "I... I'm Eri."

The telltale ring of sirens approached from the north and the east. They came to arrest an uncontrollable Quirk user and a murderer. The law doesn't care if the death resulted from an accident.

Aizawa blinked to test a theory. Since he finished blinking instead of disappearing, he proved himself correct. The girl's powers became more powerful, more uncontrollable, or both due to heightened negative emotions. In other words, she held a defense mechanism. Fight or flight, one that all humans held.

To answer her question, he took off his goggles. "I'm Eraser Head."

She titled her head to the right. "Is that a real name?"

How isolated did the Yakuza keep this girl? "That's my hero name." One of the police cars stopped. He had little time left to save this victim. "I'll protect you. Hold on." He scooped her up in his arms. She felt too light for someone her size, but he ensured he didn't grab any of her bandages.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed silently. Her tears soaked his scarf, but worrying about something like that seemed illogical. He dashed out of the park and into the shadows, detected by no one. While even the police knew little about him, his reputation for slinking away spread to most cities. The police will assume he captured the criminal, and the officers will go about their merry lives.

This girl needed medical attention, but he also wanted this girl... Eri... to be hidden from the public eye. He had a nagging feeling her parents were either dead or didn't care. It just happened that this city had a hero who ranked among the best healers in the world. That healer also happened to work at a school which trained students to use their Quirks safely. After all, U.A. wouldn't exist if its heroes couldn't control themselves. Lastly, it was just a coincidence that Midnight recently recommended him to the principal.

Fate had nothing to do with this.

"Where are we going?" Her voice came out as a whisper. Her arms squeezed tighter around his neck; however, her Quirk had yet to do anything. She felt no danger, thus she held no danger

"Somewhere safe." He carried her all the way to U.A. Even then, she refused to let go of the hero, the only person in her short life that ever showed her kindness. Not once did he consider the irony of the situation.

Shota Aizawa didn't believe in fate, but fate believed in Shota Aizawa.

#my hero academy fanfiction #eri #shota aizawa #my hero academia #fanfic #fanfiction #story #dreamttempest #breakreason

[erosjeon]

Kalopsia 2

Pairing: Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Summary: You walk into your home one day to find your cat walking on two feet, in a human form.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Word count: 3k

You woke up to a tight grip around your waist, not an uncomfortable one but a certainly strange one as you remember you lived alone with your cat. Turning away from the view of the balcony that you faced, you were met with a muscular chest that belonged to a very handsome face… that had a pair of ears hanging low on top and all the events from the day before rushed back to your memory. You took your time to admire his features, he really is a cat you conclude. His almond shaped eyes were peacefully closed shut, his nose hanging high directly above his plump lips. His arms were flexed around you and you couldn’t help but trace your fingers around his veins slowly reaching up to his neck and face to where his ears twitched. You’ve always loved how soft they felt and how they would give in and lean to your touch. You notice that Jungkook slowly shifted even closer as you ran your fingers through his hair and ears, messaging them thoroughly. The familiar sound of purr erupted seconds into petting, was he awake you wondered. You looked at the clock displayed on your wall, alarming you it was time for another class to be attended. You tried to wiggle out of his hold but he was stronger than you. “Kookie?” You tried to bring him out of his slumber. “I need to leave soon, please let go of me”, you notice that he shifts again but instead of letting you go he held you impossibly closer. “Why do you keep leaving me” you heard him grumble in his sleepy state. “I really need to go to my class. I’ve told you I’m falling behind. If I didn’t have anything to do I would love nothing than to keep sleeping” you tried to move but no avail. As a sigh escaped your lips, the pair of eyes in front of you opened and a smile was displayed for you. You watched his tongue swiped over his lips smoothly as he brought his lips close to your neck where you soon felt a wet sensation. This would be something normal if he was an actual cat and not a full grown man, you felt a rush of heat to the apples of your cheeks. “You can’t do that” you tried to push his head away with both your hands. “Do what?” his head popped up to meet yours, a smile you can mistake for a smirk appeared as he dived into the same spot to lick and suck at the skin of your neck, “You didn’t have a problem with it before”. You refused to let him take control, you had to leave for your class now or else you would be very late. “If you don’t stop right now I won’t pet you for a week” you warned, you knew how much your cat loved being pet and how he would frequently beg for it. You could feel that he tensed and loosened his hold on you, it had worked. “You can’t be serious with that” he said with disbelief, “You can’t do that to me”. “Then don’t make me” you smiled wickedly as you finally were able to make your way out of bed. The route to college was as usual. The early morning had people in a rush and trains to be crowded and coffees to be spilt as people ran to make it to their jobs or school on time. Your social psychology class consisted of the professor making lame jokes and your peers cracking up for extra credit. Once the class was over, you headed to the library to get some work done. You had to do notes for at least 3 lectures to be up to date with your classes by the next week when exams start.

You find your mind wandering about what Jungkook is doing at home. In all honesty, the realization that your pet is a grown up man still hasn’t hit you yet even though you were in his arms just a few hours ago. You began to feel bad as you think of how lonely he must have been all this time, you were always at work while he was locked up inside. It must have been lonely for him, the fact that he had to hide his nature from you since you had ever gotten him made you feel worse. But what do you do now?

You know little about hybrids, what even are they? How much percentage of them is really animal? What are they supposed to eat? How do you treat them? You had many questions which made you find yourself in the veterinary books section of the library. Your eyes scanned through the books to find what you were looking for, a book with the title ‘Hybrids: all you need to know’ had caught your sight.

You flipped open the dusty book, the flying particles showing evidence of how uninterested people are about hybrids and that’s if they believe they exist at all, or maybe, no one cares enough to learn about them. You flicked through the first several pages and landed into the introduction page.

‘Hybrids, additionally called "humanized animals" are technically speaking, also related to "cybrids" (cytoplasmic hybrids), with "cybrid" cells featuring foreign human nuclei inside of them being a topic of interest. Possibly, a real-world human-animal hybrid may be an entity formed from either a human egg fertilized by a nonhuman sperm or a nonhuman egg fertilized by a human sperm. While at first being a concept in the likes of legends and thought experiments, the first stable human-animal chimeras (not hybrids but related) to actually exist were first created by Shanghai Second Medical University scientists in 2003, the result of having fused human cells with rabbit eggs…’

The rest of the page didn’t have much for your interest, skipping through the history of hybrid discovery and into the present, you had found what might be valuable for you to know about Jungkook. ‘The hybrid market, although has been very big and successful for the past 15 years has now changed although the demand is higher than ever. Hybrids had learnt and evolved to be able to mask their identity, making it difficult for them to be caught; and due to the low supply, the commodity nature of the market makes it difficult to sell hybrids if they were not in cages for the buyers to poke and goggle at. People had started to sell these exotic animals ever since hybrids were none, some were sold at millions of the prices customized to the consumer’s needs and desired pet characteristics. The more was desired, the higher the price they are sold. Many individuals buy a hybrid for the pleasure of owning one and being able to do whatever they pleased with it, many would request those with sexual appeals and little have purchased them for mere companionship or support.’

The last sentences you had read made you feel angry, you scoffed in silence at how cruel humans can be. The fact that these hybrids were abused for people’s dirty needs nurtured the need to protect within you, the sole reason of even studying your degree and being here in the first place was to become a helper and an understanding person, someone who can offer advice and love to those who cannot be helped and those who do not feel or cannot feel loved. You had slowly realised that the little amount of trust Jungkook had in you for not telling you the realities of his nature made sense. It wasn’t because you were you, but because of how cruel your own nature can be to him and to his kind. Reading the lines that followed afterwards made your heart feel even heavier, perhaps that’s all you need to know. You decided to shut the book, you think you have an idea of how to treat him now… with love.

You needed to show that you weren’t like the rest, you would never try to use Jungkook or even sell him to anybody. You had loved your cat to death and you would never trade it for the world. The image of Jungkook being behinds the bars in the rows and rows of cages of different sizes and half animals in them made you feel sick. You put the book back and walked to find an empty table to settle your things on. Jungkook hadn’t left your mind, were you too harsh on him this morning? You tried to get him out of your thoughts and to crack on with your lectures even if it was with guilt, you had to get them done. Several tries later, you stood up knowing you wouldn’t be able to get anything done when your mind is thinking of something or rather, someone else. You decided to make sure that you treat him right. You hurried your way back home.

You fiddled with your house keys in attempt to find the right key to the lock of your home door. You opened the door slowly, your eyes scanning the entrance for a male trigger but not finding any. You sighed in relief and close the door behind you, because in all honesty, you didn’t know what to say to him once you see him but you had made your mid up, you’re going to take him out and buy him all of his necessities and make sure he’s satisfied and happy. You walked to the kitchen and found no sign of him, was he still sleeping you wondered. On the bed you found a sprawled naked man, with the bed sheet missing all the areas that you wish you could unsee as you turned around and began to feel smothered. He needs some clothes.

You cleared your voice, “Jungkook?”

But there was no response.

“Jungkook!” you tried to sound loud but gentle.

You can hear the bed sheet moving around before a groan ringed through the room, “Y/N?”

“Can you get up?” you asked,

“What? Why?”

“Just get u-“ you interrupted yourself as you felt him moving to his feet still bare making you close your eyes, “But cover yourself first please”.

You heard a laugh that you suspect to be on your flushed state, why was he making you feel so bothered.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, I mean not that you saw anything true to size right?” he sounded rather smug, “Or you have actually, yesterday.” You can feel his breath fanning down onto your arm. You tried your hardest not to look worked up. It’s all fine.

“Yeah and I rather not see anything again” you turned away from him.

“Are you sure?” he asked with humour in his voice, knowing he was not being serious. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around your figure, making sure nothing else would touch you although he really wanted to.

“Are you okay though, you sound… different?” he curiously spoke before attaching his lips lightly on the spot right beside the skin of your neck.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you quickly replied cautious of him catching onto anything, “Just, we need you to find something to wear so we can go out”

“We’re going out?” he asks slowly, as if not pleased with the idea but you wordlessly, understood why.

“Yeah but don’t worry… I have some clothes from my ex- Jin and you have similar heights and body proportions I think so it should be fine” you said making sure you haven’t forgot anything else, “Oh and I have a cap too just to cover your ears if you don’t feel comfortable”.

“Thanks y/n, but why are we suddenly going out?” he asked, “You usually go out alone”.

“I know, I know… that’s why I want you to come. I don’t want to leave you behind. I couldn’t take you before you know… revealed yourself to me because the places I go don’t allow pets”.

“Okay” he sounded a bit worried and hesitant, making you want to smack yourself in the face for not trying harder to sound convincing because after all, you’re doing this for him to show your care and affection for him.

You turned around, trying your best to only look at his face, “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do. Truth is, I want you to be comfortable with me, I want to take you and make sure you have clothes and anything else you need.”

“But you don’t have much money, remember?” he replied as he quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s alright… I’m sure I can afford anything you need at the moment” you said out loud although your intention was to say that to yourself. You can afford it you tried to convince yourself although you know deep inside you would over spend but that’s okay if it means for him to feel a bit safer with you, to trust you a little bit more.

“Okay let’s go” he gave you the same bunny smile from yesterday, making you smile to yourself at the cuteness of it. He could pass for a rabbit if his ears were a bit longer.

“Great, let’s get you Jin’s clothes” you said as you walked to your wardrobe before hearing the man behind you sigh quietly.

Once he was dressed, you made sure that the cap and clothing covered the entirety of his other half nature. His tail was confined in the tights black jeans which you suspect pained him as his thighs had already taken up so much space, you were sure it would rip open if he sat down, you were glad that the plain white shirt was more comfortable for him.

As you locked the door, you walked outside heading to the station which is the fastest way to get to the shopping centre. The journey afterwards was pretty fast. You did get looks from strangers but all were girls who looked up and down the body of Jungkook, you suspect that they were horny and had not caught on with his feline nature. The shopping centre was fortunately rather empty, you conversed with Jungkook about what he would need other than clothes which he has replied with as food. You sighed as you walked into the store, you asked Jungkook to pick as many as he liked but secretly hoping he’d pick a few and not go all out for the sake of your bank account. He had managed to get a collection of clothing before waiting for the changing rooms to try them on to see if the size fit.

Most of the things he had picked were good on him as you expected, he looked so happy in them making you smile to yourself. You were proud for doing this, you don’t even care what price you need to pay for his giggles and adorable smile. When you paid for everything, you walked outside shoe stores, Jungkook was carrying his clothes in a bag wrapped around his wrist while you were viewing the goods from the window. You walked inside the store as you saw the pair of heels you’ve always wanted to buy, you thought you were followed by Jungkook as you took the heels in your hand to show him but he was not in view, you tried not to panic but you failed as you frantically turned to find him.

There he was, he was holding a pair of mustard boots, they looked really nice but you knew how expensive they would cost. You knew Jungkook wouldn’t make you buy it if he knew the price of timberlands but you slowly put the heels down before he looked at you and you walked towards him with a smile.

“Why don’t you try them?” you asked,

“What? No, I’ve already bought too much today” he said before putting them down.

“I get to make that choice if I’m paying” you said as you took the shoes and asked for the assistant to measure Jungkook’s feet and to grab the boots in his size.

The look on his face as he wore it was unforgettable, he really enjoyed them and you knew there’s no way you were not going to buy them. His smile was priceless, and you think you’re falling for it. You took the shoe box and headed to the till. Jungkook protested at first but they died down when you glared at him and handed your card to the lady opposite you.

You left the store and thought it might be wise to eat outside since Jungkook has probably never done that before, you grabbed his free hand and took him to the food court. The smell of food was everywhere, you notice his nose scrunching and sniffing at the evident scent of meat in the air.

“What do you feel like eating?” you asked,

“I could eat everything” he said slowly while literally drooling, making you laugh.

“I know the smell is good but we need to get food, is chicken okay? That place has really good chicken”

“Why would people sell bad chicken?” he questioned, while looking confused.

“I don’t know, I ask myself that sometimes too”

You had ordered food and found a table. Once the food was cleared you thought it was time to head home, you’ve followed the path you took earlier and just before the exit, a girl that you’d suspect to be as old as you are in a cap and an outfit that mirrored your hybrid looked at the male beside.

“Jungkook?”

A/N: Happy New Year! Give this a lot of love and as always feedback is appreciated!x

#BTS #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook hybrid #bts hybrid #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fan fiction #bts scenario #bts drabbles #bts imagine #kpop fluff #kpop fan fiction #taehyung #jimin #jin #jhope #rm #suga #hybrid au #cat hybrid #fluff #kpop fan fiction angst #bangtan #bts her #bts dna #bts love yourself #bts v #bts army #bts hybrid au

[fantazeerps]

His name is Flees Screaming. A name--more of a title, really--bestowed upon him by the oracles of his clan, based upon the features of his life for which he’d be most known for. Absolutely no one called him that to his face, but every goblin in the clan had their fair share of jokes at his expense... Behind closed doors, and in hushed tones, just in case he may have been listening. No one got on Flees’ bad side and lasted very long.

Flees is a goblin, but one could be forgiven for thinking otherwise. He’s tall as three goblins stacked atop one another, wide as three goblins standing side to side, and ugly as all six of those measurement goblins put together. His unique size and shape prompting the occasional whisper that he might be half-ogre or half-giant, or perhaps he had a bit of bugbear, or even barghest, in his blood. Whatever he is, he isn’t normal.

Whatever he is, he isn’t scared. Of anything. In complete defiance of typical goblin nature and his prophetic title, Flees has never once actually turned and fled from anything he’s ever encountered. Whether this was to spite the oracle that granted his title or simply because he was born that way anyway is just another thing to be whispered of and bickered about among his smaller clanmates. Whatever the case may be, Flees is almost suicidally confident in his strength, meaning spots in his gang are paradoxically both coveted and viewed as extremely dangerous. Flees is the type of goblin to lead raids and hunts for the clan, and thus anyone in his gang always got first pick of whatever hauls were brought back, but he has a habit of always choosing the biggest, toughest, most dangerous, and most well-defended targets available.

Which is what had brought him to Mourning Ridge this day.

Her name was Mocks Many. A name--more of a title, really--bestowed upon her by the oracles of her clan, based upon the features of her life for which she’d be most known for.

She had lived up to that name--Above and beyond it, actually. It no longer really fit her anymore, now that she’s calmed down so, and thus she was now known as Mox Meni. Said aloud it was basically the same thing, but it’s the spelling that was truly important to her. ... That, and the alliteration. She liked alliteration.

Mox is the type of person to keep her ear to the ground. Easy to do, being so close to it--she was short, even for a goblin, not even reaching three feet tall. She heard more or less everything that happened in Mourning Ridge, one way or another. Not so much a network of informants as it was simply parking her cart in the center of Mourning Ridge, the major walkway. Anyone going anywhere would pass by her, and she always knew what questions to ask to which people to nudge those grapevines into growing around her.

It was through this rumor network she had learned of an approaching raid of goblins. Well, “raid” was a strong word; it was maybe twelve or so. Certainly not enough to trouble anyone in Mourning Ridge if proper defenses were mounted, and they were. Goblin raids of any size had a tragically low success rate when their targeted victim knew they were coming, and the scouts had been sloppy.

So sloppy.

It would take her hours to clean them up. A task for later this afternoon, maybe. After this situation was dealt with.

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

“Scout back yet?” Grumbles Flees.

“Nope. Ain’t seen ‘em.” Answered Spyglass Savant, clacking his namesake tool closed and tucking it in his pocket. They spoke to one another in Goblin, which to the untrained ear would sound like horrid squabbling. A trained ear would know that the harsh tone and impatience present in both voices was because Flees was currently holding Savant by his head and hoisting him above the treeline. Neither of them were particularly happy about this--Flees because he was risking his arm getting shot by anyone paying attention, Savant because he was risking his entire body getting shot by anyone paying attention, and the tension between both of them was making Flees squeeze. His grip was strong as iron, threatening to fracture Savant’s skull. “Now lemme go ‘fore you pop m’head like a grape,”

Flees obliged. There was a squeal of panic, followed by the sound of 20 pounds of delicate (by goblin standards) equipment and 60 pounds of goblin hitting three branches and coming to a stop on the fourth. Luckily for both parties involved, Flees didn’t hear the next few words out of Savant.

“Prolly dead ‘r caught, then.” Flees concluded, not at all bothered. Hoarse Cough was never the stealthiest one in the clan, and he’d been looking for an excuse to get rid of her without actually doing the deed himself for a while. It wasn’t unusual for one goblin to kill another for the slightest of mistakes, but Flees liked to think himself better than that. He liked to think he had a more even temper.

“That mean we’re goin’ home? Cuz I gotta bad feelin’ ‘bout this.” And thus was his temper tested again by his clan of cowards.

Flees leapt down from his perch in the tree, hitting the ground with enough force to bury himself up to the ankles and enough noise to make the town guards nearly three-quarters of a mile away stand at attention, believing that somewhere in the surrounding woods, a tree may have fallen. Pulling his feet from the ground, he surveyed his raid group, noticing than more than a few of them were starting to have doubts. Usually the scout at least made it back to the group before dying; when they didn’t come back at all, it was a bad sign.

It was worse when guards--very scary, very big guards--were already setting up a barricade aimed in their direction. But that wouldn’t be a problem for Shatters Walls or Shatters Stones, two of the best demolition experts (in that they hadn’t died from their own bombs) in the clan. If a door was shut, they’d make a new one.

“Shatters!” Flees barked, both goblins immediately on their tiptoes, glancing at their boss for only a half second before realizing the other was standing and directing heated glares at one another. “Y’all’re in charge ‘a blowin’ whatever defense they got. Sparks, Flash?”

Sends Sparks, Sparking Hands, and Blinding Flash all stood up. Three goblins who could work a bit of magic, two of which actually had good control over it. “Nine outta ten that they got some good archers. Y’all’re gonna make ‘em not have good archers.”

ping. a sound at the edge of the ear.

“uh, boss.” a sound a bit higher up. Barely heard over Flees’ fervor as he started getting worked up over his plan, getting into his war sone.

“Sling, Eyes, Cups, Birds,” those last two were In Her Cups, living up to her name with her fourth shot since the group had woken up this morning, and Murders Birds, who had provided breakfast, “Y’all’re gonna make ‘em not have any archers n’ make sure them swords folk ain’t gonna get close without gettin’ hurt. You, ‘specially, Sling. Yer gonna be the one shootin’ Shatters’ bombs this time.”

ping. another sound, soft, but closer.

“boss?” another sound, still high up. More worried, more insistent, but that didn’t matter to Flees. Not when Sling was making his dismay at the prospect of shooting hair-trigger explosives out of a slingshot very clear. The two began to bicker, and bickering was always settled quickly in Flees’ group. Everyone was always more scared of him than whatever it was they were fighting.

Ping. Louder. Closer. Something in the bushes.

“Boss!” Cried Spyglass Savant, who was readying one of his disposable pair of binoculars as an impromptu projectile (all they were good for, really) to get Flees’ attention. Luckily and unluckily, he got it before he needed to throw.

“WHAT?!” Roared the war boss, halfway through giving Sling’s leg a legendary Indian burn. Wouldn’t do to hurt either of Sling’s arms, obviously, but he still had to be punished.

“Uh. S’a goblin. Ain’t one-a ours.” Savant had spotted them from a literal mile away, at first thinking they were the scout, having claimed some loot. But as they drew closer, it was increasingly obvious that this was an entirely new goblin.

A goblin with a coin in her hand, just ever-so-casually flipping it.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

“Weeeeell... Weeeeell... Weeeell...” To describe the way those words left the newcomer’s mouth as a ‘purr’ would be insulting to cats. It was like someone trying to purr the words after getting over strep throat. The owner of that awful voice passed around a small tree, letting the entire raid of goblins see her.

Small, smaller than almost every goblin here. Splotchy skin, as if she had gotten chemical burns from food coloring. A strange apron that was covered in glass vials, cloth sacks, and surgical instruments with fresh, red blood on them. No one asked him, not for hours, but Bloodhound’s Bane’s uncannily keen nose knew it to be goblin blood.

An alien-looking metal helmet dotted in tiny switches, knobs, and levers covered the entire top half of her head, obscuring her eyes and seemingly forcing her ears into a downward tilt. The lenses were pitch black but for twin dots of glowing red light that made her wide, toothy, far-too-white grin look downright demonic. “Flees... S’been a while. How ya doin’?”

“You know this gal, boss?” Asked Sparks.

...

...

...

“Boss?”

Everyone turned to look. Flees had somehow ended up behind the group, all of them at once. His eyes were wide as dinner plates, his face was pale as snow (snow from a weird world where ice was green, at least), his mouth open, lip trembling.

“And here I was worried you wouldn’t remember me.” The newcomer goblin said.

and flees

remembered

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

That smile as the door opened.

“I want to be stronger, braver!”

so stupid, so stupid

so god damn stupid

that smile

over his head, hovering there.

“May wanna bite onto this. This’s gonna hurt.”

it hurt. it never stopped hurting. not all the way.

that needle, so long and thick. it broke ribs as it passed through them, jamming itself into his heart

the fire

the fire

the fire

everything on fire

everything burning

everything hurts

that smile

that laugh

Flees remembered it. Sometimes, when he laid down to sleep, he remembered everything. Every detail. The stink of chemicals, the stink of blood, the stink of one trying to cover the other.

The feel of the cold stone under him, the tight leather over him, the stinging light of a dozen glowing chemicals. More than any of that, he remembered the pain. The pain that came with the needle, from the needle, from what it did to him. What it was still doing to him.

She gave him what he wanted. Too much of it. It was hard for anyone to notice because everyone else was so short, but every year Flees grew just a little bit taller, a little bit wider, a little bit heavier. His body hurt a just little bit more. It got just a little bit harder for him to move.

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

Mox remembered bits and pieces. Flashes here and there. Her past was unclear. So much missing.

She was glad to see him doing so well, despite everything.

“I’m seriously impressed, Flea-bag,” a nickname, one she quickly figured out he enjoyed more than his real one. She had once used it to lower his guard, and now she used it to make him raise it. “I figured you’d be dead by the end of that year. Feels good to be wrong, this once.”

“D...” Flees managed to stammer, finally lifting up an arm to point at her. Her smile remained constant, that coin still flipping. Many of the other goblins looked uncomfortable as their boss took another step back. “Demon... Demon doctor! DEMON DOC!”

Now that was something she hadn’t heard in a while. A small shiver went down her spine, the good kind, like when you reach that real good point in your favorite song.

-----------

Flees’ full name was common knowledge in the clan. Everyone knew him as the biggest, toughest goblin in Dravaenn, and perhaps even the world. Everyone knew he could punch out a bear, break rocks with his bare hands, and even fight trained enemy soldiers in one-on-one battles without needing to resort to dirty tricks (even though he did). Everyone knew he was powerful, and everyone knew that one day, he would Flee Screaming.

Everyone wanted to see it. It was an unspoken desire in the clan, to be near him the day he finally lived up to his name. It was the same sort of desire as wanting to knock over a line of dominoes someone else painstakingly built, to barrel into a pile of leaves that one’s parent toiled to rake into one spot, to trip a waitress carrying a precariously balanced platter of food to watch it drop. Something everyone wanted to see, but no one wanted to do for fear of angering the other party.

No one, however, really gave much thought about what being at ground zero of this event would be like. What it would feel like to see your fearless leader actually... Well, flee screaming.

And flee he did. He actually turned around and ran straight into a tree, first, but once he got past that obstacle he did, indeed, flee screaming. Screaming about demon doctors, screaming about pain, but mostly just screaming.

Silence fell among the group. Quiet except but for the soft ping of the coin as the “demon doctor” flipped it over and over.

“Soooo...” She began. The Demon Doctor of Dravaenn was also common knowledge in the clan. None of them in particular wanted to find out which ones were true, and which ones were just invented to keep goblin whelps in line.

So, like good soldiers, they followed their leader’s fine example.

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

Only when the last one was out of her line of sight did Mox relax. She caught her coin, her teeth parting as she let out the breath she had been holding for so long. The trio of bombs she had been rolling around in her palm behind her back were carefully tucked away in her pockets once more. Disappointing. She was hoping they’d at least try to attack her so she could try out this new mixture, but she’d take solace in knowing that her new “intimidating” Cognatogen worked like a charm.

Though in truth, she was... Sad didn’t feel like the right word for it. There was certainly a knot in her chest, but it wasn’t truly sorrow. It was more akin to seeing a childhood friend in a crowded shopping center. Just seeing their face reawakens some old memories of happy days together... But soon, they turn away. They’re gone, and the memories with them.

Mox rubbed her head--well, her helmet--and let out a soft sound. To the untrained ear, a laugh. To the trained ear, a small half-sob. The sound one made when they were trying not to make any noise. Trying to hold it all together. Seeing Flees Screaming was a reminder, and a painful one. For both of them, for different reasons.

She remembered. Bits and pieces. Flashes. She remembered enough to know everything she’d forgotten. If her mind was a novel, several pages had been torn out and burned by her own idiotic choices. She could read ahead, piece together what may have happened in the past by seeing what transpired in the future, or figure out where she was going by looking at what she had been doing... But so much was still missing. So much was still frustrating.

She had hoped Flees would have tried to fight. She would have loved to have him on her operating table once more, running his blood and muscles through every analysis device she had to figure out the formula she used to grant him that body. A bit more refining, a few more resources, and perhaps she could even rework it. Repair it. Replicate it. Make it perfect.

Make her perfect.

But no. He had fled, screaming, and would likely not be coming back now that he knew she was here. Maybe one day, she’d arrange for a quest to find him.

Maybe one da--

“Uh.”

Mox’s train of thought slammed into a concrete wall, all of the cars flying in different directions.

“Hey, uh, listen...”

Mox looked up. There, hanging from the branches, was a goblin with a backpack almost as big as he was, loaded down with enough knickknacks and doodads that it could have killed him if it landed on him. For now, though, that bag was held aloft by several pointy branches, the goblin dangling uselessly by the straps that wound securely around him.

“This whole raid thing was, uuuh, his idea. I really didn’t want any part of it! Honest, so! Could you, ah...”

When had Mox stopped smiling? Maybe it was during her brief bout of frustrated self-loathing. In any case, as she looked up at this poor fool who seemed to be both struggling to free himself from the bag and free the bag from the branches, that trademark sharp smile began to spread over her face again.

“W-w-wait! Hold on! Listen! I didn’t wanna come out here! That fat idiot made me! I just wanted t’test out my spy stuff!”

Mox had already drawn a bomb from her pocket. But she paused her throw. Spy stuff?

She didn’t stay paused for long.

“WAIT I’LL DO ANYTHING!”

There it is. She chucked the bomb up, the cloth coating bursting open as the powders inside ignited and exploded. In almost the same motion, she had drawn a different vial from her pocket and thrown it to the ground. The milky liquid inside spread across the topsoil and worked itself into a violent froth that lasted all of half a second before solidifying. The previously-stuck goblin hit the foam with a muffled WHUD, more noise coming from the rattle of all the equipment in his pack than anything else.

Mox waited for for the goblin to finally reorient himself and attempt to shake off what was probably a mild concussion. As soon as his eyes started working again, he saw her not a foot away, and scrambled backwards... Or tried, since his stupidly massive backpack kept getting in his way. Mox stepped up to him, both hands behind her back, still grinning.

“Heard you say ‘anything.’“

“please don’t kill me or experiment on me or--”

God, she loved that. She snickered, a sound that made the other goblin try to curl up and shrink into his own clothes.

“Nah, naaaah... Don’t worry about it. I got better plans for someone of your... Talent. Plans I think both of us’ll benefit from.” That made him shrink further, something she didn’t think was possible. She was going to use him as fodder up until he saw that ‘spy stuff.’ He wasn’t just a packmule, like she had previously assumed, so killing him here would likely just be a waste of potential talent.

She’d at least see if he’s useful for something beyond a test subject, first. She was no longer the impulsive, wasteful Demon Doctor, after all.

“Y’seem way more useful than the common goblin, pal. How would yooou like a job in town? Safer than raiding. Fair pay. Good food. Even got a top notch healthcare plan.”

-----------

...

Spyglass Savant did always hate raiding...

#Story Time #About Mox