#i just need to modify clothes to make them fit properly

[brehaaorgana]

Okay so: Does anyone know of a good book or resource explaining the best types of fabrics, cuts/patterns, etc to look for when thrifting, when knowing that you will probably need to tailor the thrifted clothing?

And maybe also "how" to do those smaller alterations yourself, although I think I would be fine just taking pieces I find to a tailor.

@readandneedle do you know this? I want to know what I should just get rid of bc tailoring wouldn't be worth it vs like, what I can alter easily without the seamstress wanting to murder me.

I have a generally good sense of major brands and their construction quality, but less so "what is a total bitch to take in, let out, or otherwise change up."

[yin-shimo]

Converting Fem-Frame Mesh to Masc-Frame

This tutorial assumes you have basic knowledge on blender and sims4studio, so i won’t go over basic things. As always, you’ll need to export the mesh you wish to convert first. Next, open it in blender and switch into edit mode.

Hit ‘UV sync selection’ to make the work easier.

Now, with the ‘L’ key, select only the body parts and separate with the ‘P’ key. Your mesh should look like this:

Then, hide the body (hit ‘H’ key or hit the eye icon in the outliner tab) and import the needed male body mesh. If your object is only a top or only a bottom you may not need the whole male mesh, but just to be safe, I prefer importing both regardless for a better view of how the weights look later.

Before editing the mesh, make sure to merge by distance so nothing breaks or gets crunchy in the sculpting step.

The Main Event:

aka sculpting the mesh to the male body. Go into sculpt mode and select ‘elastic deform tool’, either through the button itself or the keys ‘shift+space 8’. Then make sure to select ‘mirror: x’ in the symmetry tab so that everything you do on one side occurs on the other to keep it all even.

If all's well, when you move around the mesh, your cursor should look like this:

You may need to switch between ‘material view’ and ‘solid’ with x-ray on as shown in my recording to get a good look and keep everything proportional. 

Before moving onto weights, I usually look back at the original female body to see what parts were deleted as an outline for how I will now delete parts from the male body. Visually, the easiest way for me to do this is I select both bodies, with the female pre-highlighted and the male unselected, and then select parts while holding the shift key.

Separate and hide the other meshes, leaving you with something like this:

If you don't see any holes anywhere, we can now move onto weight painting.

Weights

 The first thing you want to do is to look for the cas-breast weights and delete them. Theyre not needed and will only fuck up things later LOL.

Now, go to the ‘spine_1’ weight, it’ll probably look like that, which we dont want. So hit the button ‘weights’ and select ‘normalize all’ as such : 

Spine1 should now look like this

After this point, weight painting is very dependent on the mesh itself, so, the most I can say is to un-hide the rig and rotate various bones to ensure the clothes move properly and/or don’t clip anywhere. If it does, those are the weights you'll need to fix.

When youre done, merge both meshes together and import it. Once it's imported, youll wanna export it again to fix the uv_1.

Why? Because we merged vertices earlier and that impacts the way the uv_1 turns out. Seeing lines go across every side of the mesh negatively impacts the way itll morph on the body in-game. Everything has to fit correctly. Example of a not well uv_1:

Once the mesh is re-imported, separate the body from the dress/clothes so the uv_1 editing happens /only/ to the clothes. Add a complete male mesh again, select your outfit and go to modifier properties and select ‘data transfer’. Make yours look like this:

After applying it, it should look something like this:

And now you're free to combine the two meshes and to merge by distance again!!

Finally, import and check how it looks in game. It's usually never perfect the first time…

How did this dress turn out? Well, like I said, its imperfect still but looks like this in-game atm:

(all mascframe-male)

[ghouletteanon]

Mushy May: Day 7 - Compliments

It's already been a week. Wow. Prompt list can be found here, curated by the marvelous @forlorn-crows .

Relationship: Cirrus/Cumulus, referenced Cirrus/Cumulus/Sunshine

Summary: Cumulus is feeling insecure about her body but has the support of her mate.

Word count: 848

Rating: light M

Content warnings: Body insecurities

Spring had turned into summer and weather permitted wearing fewer layers, the inhabitants of the ministry no longer lived in oversized sweaters and winter robes, and everyone had shed layers of unnecessary clothing. Cumulus herself had taken to crop tops and high waisted skinny jeans, thinking she looked cute. Cirrus looked absolutely stunning in her perfectly applied make-up and flowing dresses, blouses and trousers, Sunshine was adorable in her colorful shirts and ever-changing wardrobe as she was still trying to find her style.

Cumulus had overheard the siblings compliment the other ghoulettes, talking in hushed tones about how attractive they found the ghoulettes when they thought Cumulus couldn’t hear. It was not that the siblings had said anything bad about her, but it was more that they had not said anything about her. Not even a “nice tits”.

Cumulus takes in her reflection in the full body mirror in the corner of the room the three ghoulettes share. She thinks she looks cute, but doubts start creeping in. They had tried on the new tour clothes last night, and Cumulus had become increasingly annoyed when her clothes needed to be modified. Again. The shorts she sleeps in hug her thighs, making her ass look amazing. Or so she thought. The shorts look loose and casual on Sunny whenever she borrows them. Her t-shirt is soft and well-worn, but the sleeves are still tight in a way she knows they aren't on Cirrus. Perhaps she should change her style and wear shirts that show more cleavage again. She always got compliments when she did it.

Cumulus is too distracted by her thoughts to notice Cirrus sneaking up on her from behind. Her soft paws did not make a sound, steps even more muffled by the fluffy carpet. Cirrus sneaks an arm around Cumulus’ waist, kissing the side of her face before their eyes meet through the mirror. She rests her head on Cumulus’ shoulder, moving Cumulus’ long hair aside so she can see her properly. “What’s going on, ‘Lu?”

“Do I look nicer when my tits are out?” Cumulus asks, balling up the hem of her shirt in her hands. “Cropped and loose t-shirts have been easier to handle in the nursery, but…”

“You always look nice,” Cirrus insists playfully, but gets serious when Cumulus sighs and rolls her eyes in annoyance. “I love your tits, love the way they feel when I hold them and how they spill out from your shirt when you’re feeling cheeky. But your comfort is more important. When you cover them it’s all the nicer when I get to undress you.”

“It just isn’t practical with the kits climbing all over me,” Cumulus mutters when Cirrus starts kissing her neck and her thumb lazily pets her side.

“But that’s not all, is it?” Cirrus pauses with her lips still on her mate’s skin, looking Cumulus right in her eyes through the mirror. “Something is bothering you.”

“Finding a fitting pair of jeans in a style that I want has been impossible. And the new tour shirts are too tight around the arms if I don’t upsize and then they look like a tent on me and don’t show off my boobs and waist like I want. And the trousers look good on the boys, but they just hide my curves. I want to feel good on stage but…”

“Oh,” Cirrus considers her words, leaving Cumulus waiting nervously on what her mate is going to say. It’s like waiting for judgment, even if Cumulus knows her mate loves her unconditionally. “The seamstress will make the changes so we can perform. But you know clothes are overrated.”

“Easy for you to say,” the bitter words escape Cumulus’ lips before she can help herself and the floodgates are open. She tries to hide the way her eyes are tearing up with her hands, but she suddenly can’t stop. “You and Sunny can find clothes wherever you want. I only have two pairs of trousers I like, and they will inevitably get holes in the thighs and then I need to fix them and they never look as good…”

Cirrus turns Cumulus around so they’re facing each other properly. She takes Cumulus’ face in her hands, wiping away tears from her cheeks with her thumbs. “Cumulus, darling, look at me. It’s not your fault that humans are stupid about bodies. You’re gorgeous no matter what you wear, and I will mend your jeans myself if that’s what it takes.”

“I’m sorry, this is so silly,” Cumulus hiccups as she tries to control her breathing. She’s an air ghoulette who sings her heart out on stage on the regular. She should be better at controlling her voice, but she’s always found it difficult when she’s overcome with emotions. “I’m supposed to enjoy this body, but it’s been difficult lately.”

“Want me to remind you how much I enjoy your body, hmm?” Cirrus asks, giving Cumulus time to decline but she continues when Cumulus nods. “Let me show you how beautiful I find you and how wrong humans are.”

[coolsarahaddysonlove-blog]

Three Reasons Why You Should Never Build Your Own Built-In Fitted Wardrobes

When choosing to put in built-in fitted wardrobes, there are plenty of things that one has to consider before actually doing it. Firstly, one should consider that, just like any custom wardrobe, this piece requires the skillful hands of seasoned specialists. That means that this isn’t some Sunday project that they can just start and finish on their own. Besides this, there are plenty of other factors one should consider before making any kind of decision.

How to Prepare for A Built-In Fitted Wardrobe?

Many homeowners have the idea of putting in a wardrobe wherever they might find a space big enough to accommodate one. Sure, they can put a wardrobe almost anywhere, but finding the perfect spot is crucial. That’s because, although just a piece of furniture, it has quite an important function. Keeping your clothes and other belonging safe isn’t something easy to do, so finding the right place to do it is very important. So any arch that is not being used, any niche that resulted from bricking up a doorway, or any other space in their walls can be that place.

But getting ready to put in a built-in fitted wardrobe isn’t as easy as it may sound. And that’s mostly because of the many steps that need to be taken in order to make sure that the wardrobe, once in place, is secure and ready to be used properly. The first step in doing this is to make sure that the measurements are accurate. Fitted wardrobes are assembled on the spot, so there isn’t any room for errors. So make sure that when you order it, you give the right measurements and that you confirm with the company doing the build before they actually arrive with the pieces that they are cut at the right dimensions. Sure, some may prefer a tighter fit, but that can turn into damaged walls and other problems.

Another thing to make sure that’s ok before putting in a built-in fitted wardrobe is that the floor is leveled. Some adjustments can be made to the feet of the wardrobe once it is in the house, but if the floor isn’t flush beneath it to start with, the fit won’t be good. This is how you will get wobbles when you walk past it, and also, you might get dents from weight not being distributed equally all over the legs of the wardrobe. So make sure that the floor where the wardrobe is going to be placed is evened out.

Should I Clean Up the Spot Before Putting in The Wardrobe?

Many people choose to do that. That’s because dust and other debris can accumulate and damage the coating of the wardrobe over time. So a good scrub or at least a deep vacuuming of the area is highly recommended. Plus, this way, you will clean a spot that you might not have access to for many times to come.

Three Reasons Why You Should Never Build Your Own Built-In Fitted Wardrobes

People think that building their own built-in fitted wardrobes isn’t such a big deal and that they can do it by themselves. Granted, some of them that have experience working in carpentry or other related areas might have a good chance of pulling it off. But just because some of them made a bird’s house in the 10th-grade shop class doesn’t mean that they should take on a project this size on their own. Firstly, there are a lot of materials that need to be bought and also special equipment. This can end up costing you a lot of money. When shops do it, they usually buy bulk and get good discounts, but you might not be able to get these deals on your own.

Another reason why building your own built-in fitted wardrobes isn’t such a good idea is that in order to make it fitted, very precise measurements have to be made. Some may argue that doing it on your own, in your own house, gives you much easier access to the area, and thus you can measure and modify the wardrobe easier and faster. But that isn’t always the case. When specialized people do these wardrobes, they use high-precision instruments in order to get the inches just perfect. Your old tape measure, while great for a smaller project, may not be as accurate as this one. You might end up with faulty joints, askew doors, and crooked panels. Not to mention that it might just simply not fit.

Also, when building built-in fitted wardrobes, specialists usually do the literal heavy lifting for you. Some of the parts used in these wardrobes can be quite heavy and difficult to move around, swing and hold. Builders have special equipment to help them do these things, plus years of experience. While you may have some very impressive strength, you might not be able to do it on your own. Thus, you risk hurting yourself as well as the people you call in to help you.

Where to Find Inspiration for Your Custom Wardrobe?

A lot of people dream of having a custom wardrobe made for them so that they can keep their clothes and other accessories safe. But having something custom-made means that you have to adapt it to your specific needs. And although many may know what exactly they want in terms of space distribution, not all may know what other options they have when it comes to colors, materials, decorations, and other features. So in order to find the inspiration to create your own custom piece of furniture, the best place to look for it is online. From Pinterest to Instagram and from design magazines to carpentry and woodworking forums, there are plenty of places online where people post and describe their ideal wardrobes. There’s no harm in taking a peek at what others may find interesting so that you can round up your vision a little.

You can also draw inspiration for your custom wardrobe from furniture shops and expos. A lot of manufacturers have big displays in order to showcase their newest and most interesting pieces. Whether they are new takes on classic pieces or simply futuristic designs using space-age materials, there are sure to inspire anybody looking to find out what they can do with their wardrobe. By going to these shops and expos, you might even find some valuable information, such as the prices of materials used or the names of the people that designed and built them. This way, you can also get an idea about what costs this entails.

You can always try and come up with ideas for your custom wardrobe by simply letting your imagination loose. Sure, wanting one that takes you all the way to Narnia can be quite difficult to build. But one that has the drawer space for all of your delicates is easier to deliver the order. So start sketching and drawing your ideas, write them down, and then have a specialist help you make those ideas into reality.

What Should I Start with When Designing It?

Most people, when designing their own wardrobe, usually start from the space they have available. Then they start measuring and partitioning the front. This way, they will know how many doors and how much space they have at their disposal. After that, it is simply a matter of figuring out what materials to use and how many shelves and rods to put in.

Why Do People Need a Custom Wardrobe, To Begin with?

There are loads of reasons why some people decide to have a custom wardrobe made. The most frequent one is that they want to fill up a specific space in their home. Wardrobes that can be bought at furniture stores usually have standard dimensions. These don’t always line up with the space a person has available. So they need a custom-built wardrobe in order to fit it perfectly. This way, they can fill up the space and increase the storage room at the same time. Plus, they can now have a very nice conversation piece to show off to guests and talk about with them.

Another reason why a custom wardrobe is such a big thing for some people is that many want custom-made pieces in order to differentiate from others. Not everybody likes buying off the shelf. Some enjoy having unique pieces in their house, whether they be flat-wear, artwork, or even furniture. So a wardrobe seems like the best way to go in this case. It is both practical and decorative. 

[garaksapprentice]

Honestly if you know at least some of the kinds of things you'd like to wear, you might be better off learning how to draft your own patterns. Once you have basic blocks (a pattern that fits your dimensions exactly), you can modify them to your heart's content whenever you want to make a new thing. I haven't found any masc/queer folk on YouTube that show you how to do it (the struggle is real) but this creator, while very femme, has clear instructions for how to draft a dartless bodice block for woven fabric. She actually has several videos on how to draft different patterns, and while they probably aren't the style of thing you're looking for, they might help get you thinking about how to make stuff you DO want.

#i need gender subversive clothing ok!!! practical n ideally suited for hot n humid climates #some of the cis dude sewing content is OK and adaptable to be way gayer but is almost always very heavy//cold-climate friendly #i cannot be wearin waistcoats n blazers my dudes it's 80 degrees here 3/4 of the year

Yes. This. There's a distinct cold-weather/temperate climate bias in a LOT of clothing/fashion content, probably because so many people 1) live in such climates and/or 2) exist inside air conditioned boxes for most of their life.

When it comes to surviving heat and humidity, choosing the right fabrics is key. Linen, hemp and cotton are your best bets, in that order. Ideally the fabric will be fairly light, and with a bit of a loose weave to block sun but let heat out. If you have to choose between the two, a looser weave is generally going to be cooler than lighter fabric with a tight weave. Featherweight or midweight linen, and seersucker, gauze, poplin, and panama cottons are all good choices.

Some cellulosics (rayon, bamboo, tencel, lyocell, probably a few others I've forgotten) can be OK, but it can be hard to tell which are good without making a thing out of them and wearing it. There's also tropical weight wools that are used for summer suits, but I've not worn anything made of them to know if they're actually any good for the tropics.

Yes, all the above are more expensive than polyester and nylon, but do you really want to be wearing plastic clothes that will trap the heat and sweat and make you gently broil like a lobster?

#plus i am a raccoon and need to be able to climb into dumpsters in my clothes

OK so my tips here are more pointed at garment construction than specific styles. With the proper attention to fit, you can climb into just about everything while wearing almost anything you care to.

You have two choices for freedom of movement - go really loose, or go form-fitting. Culottes are an example of the former, Chuck Norris jeans (he advertised a line of 'martial arts jeans' back in the day, they had gussets sewn in the crotch so you could kick people in the head while wearing them) an example of the latter. Or "pirate shirts" and modern, well-fitting t-shirts. But even loose clothes still need to fit properly in the right places - really, good fit is key. I can't stress that enough.

The number one thing you can do to improve range of motion in most shirts is to raise the armscye. Modern, ready-to-wear fashion cuts the armholes ridiculously low, so more people can fit the same size. This of course means that no-one ends up with a shirt that fits properly.

It seems counter-intuitive, but the higher towards the armpit you bring the armscye of a shirt, the better your ROM will be. Same thing with pants - a higher crotch will let you move your legs more than a low one. (Up to a certain point, of course. This website has a good tutorial on how to add gussets to pants and tops when they're too tight.)

If you have a shirt pattern that you want to alter, or you're not sure which size to go with, choose whatever fits your shoulders the best. That's the hardest part of a garment to fiddle with.

ok anyway came on here to lament the lack of diy/sewing your own clothes tutorials/channels out there for queer/masculine/genderweird presenting people

im so tired of fem stuff in my wardrobe and also in all the crafting/sewing channels or whatever that i find

(which is not a dig at fem clothes or femme people, i just. for the life of me. cannot find tutorials or anything aimed at anyone other than a) cis men or b) fem-presenting folks or c) historic fashion/costumery and its a weird gross gender experience for me personally. also i dont have the know-how to make what i want to wear +++ would love inspo and help from other queerdos)

if anyone knows of tutorials/channels/websites/WHATEVER for sewing clothes that fall into queer / masculine / genderweird. i would love recommendations. historic fashions are Not for me and cis dude fashion is SO boring ;-;

[clone-whore-99]

I have a headcaon that echo ( if he has a robotic hand) crochet/sews. Maybe he helps fixes lula when wrecker is just a bit to ruff with her. Maybe he helps the batch with modifying their blacks. Maybe he makes them things like mittens, scarves, sleep masks, beanies, and socks. Just something sweet? 

Omg anon, I love this!

Now, I don't know much about crochet, but I do know a bit about sewing, so -

Echo Sewing HC

No warnings for this, just fluff ❤

It was originally Techs idea

Echo had received a prosthetic hand, but didn't like using it, because it wasn't fully adjusted to his movements

And due to the busy nature of a soldiers life, Echo didn't have time for his hand to not work properly out on the field

Tech suggested for Echo to use his fingers for something simple between missions, so he could finally get used to his new hand and get it to correspond with his movements right

Echo was very against the idea from the start

"Uhuh, no way! I'm not gonna start doing something that's normally for grannys and droids!"

It took a lot of convincing on Techs part

But one day when Lulas arm fell off and Wrecker wouldn't stop moaning about it, Echo finally gave in

Before going full operation mode on Lula, Echo obviously practiced on old uniforms and whatnot

Once he was confident enough to do, he successfully reattached Lula's arm

Seeing how much joy this brought his brother, Echo fell in love with the craft

Between missions, he would patch their body gloves back together if they had been damaged

He made earplugs and sleeping masks for Hunter and Crosshair, so they could get uninterrupted sleep

Which was good, because Echo would watch holo tutorials to learn new stitches and he had a habit repeating the steps out loud

He would modify their clothes, if they needed to go undercover or blend in, which was a huge help

Especially for Wrecker, poor thing is too big to fit most clothes

And once Omega joined the squad, it went crazy

He would make her tons of clothes, dolls, teddies and whatnot

If they had to go to an unfamiliar enviroment for Omega, he would be quick to make sure her clothes were fit for it

He loved making blankets and little trinkets for her to hang in her room

Even if it meant he got labelled as the mom of the squad by this

Divider by: @djarrex

Taglist: @zoeykallus @rain-on-kamino @ashotofspotchka @chxpsi @maulsrightleg @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @wildmoonflower @nunanuggets

[kirtokyo]

hii <33 may i request feitan, shizuku, n phinks w a black s/o who is naturally curved? like people stay hitting on them 😮 i hope you understand! mwah thanks in advance <33

【 𝐍𝐀𝐓��𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐘 𝐒/𝐎 】 - dni !

❐ pairings Feitan, Shizuku, Phinks x black!curvy!reader

❐ genre - sfw

❐ format - headcanons

!! warnings - catcalling, unwanted attention, mention people acting perverted towards reader, cursing, mention of violence, specific body image

𝗙𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗻

Honestly doesn’t think that much of it but he does notice your curves though

Feitan doesn’t make a big deal out of it but does tend to be a bit more handsy with a curvy s/o

But he for sure isn’t perverted

With your body type he knows that clothes will fit different on you

It’s not like you have any control over that, and even if you did, that doesn’t give whoever the right be a asshole

It really frustrates him when people catcall you.

You’re his treasure so when someone or something puts you out of your comfort zone he’s quick to put a stop to it

He’ll ask them to repeat themselves. Not because he didn’t hear them, but because he wants them to know how much of a dick he sounds

And if he repeats it then… 😶

Feitan will violently kick the mf in the stomach. Well there goes his lunch ig

Then walks away with his hand in yours like nothing happened

He will think about it later that day though, how it didn’t have much effect on you because it happens so often

And that really upsets him

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝘇𝘂𝗸𝘂

She can relate to a lot of your struggles

Buying clothes can be hard sometimes

Such as the waist of your pants not fitting right, stuff fitting tight in some areas and loose in the others

Jeans REFUSING to go past your thighs and butt

Don’t forget about the ripped pant loops

Also can relate to people hitting on her often. And because she has a small frame, people think that she’s weak and they won’t suffer a consequence from her

When people hit on her she acts like she doesn’t hear them but she does, but gets physical if she obviously needs too

But when it comes to you, all of a sudden Shizuku can hear every single word someone whispered a mile away

Shizuku is a pretty laid back and chill person so she doesn’t often make a big deal out of things and she handles it with ease

The first few times she witnesses it happen to you she asks if you’re okay but once she realizes that it’s something that often occurs you see a completely different side of her

She single handedly brings that man down to his knees and you’ll think he didn’t have limbs to start with when she was finished with him

Them y’all flee the scene and get ice cream 😋

𝗣𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀

You had him taking double takes when he first saw you lmao

Likes to go shopping with you!!

Thinks that he has the best fashion so he helps pick you out some shoes

His favorite pants on you is bell bottoms for obvious reasons

Assists you when you need help pulling up them jeans 😩

As far as people hitting on you it’s rather… chaotic

As soon as you hear him crack his knuckles you know what’s gonna happen

He drinks his respect woman juice

Hates that you have to go through this so often and he can’t do much about it

Sure he can send a mean glare their way but there will be some bold ones who just don’t care

He’ll do gestures like holding your hand, putting a arm around your your back or head, and otter innocent things if you’re comfortable doing that in public

He wants the guy to properly apologize to you 😗 as he should

And if he won’t then that’s another punch, says it nonchalantly that’s a punch, says it a way he doesn’t like? BOP BOP!

Kinda embarrassing cause you’re just standing there like 🧍🏾‍♀️

Walks away with you with his chest puffed out

《 @crushsoli

© all rights reserved to @kirtokyo only found on tumblr. do not copy, translate, modify, or repost my work on any platform

Like and reblog !

[fishstyx]

it's always the quiet ones.

featuring. fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

wc. 1.4k

genre. dark/taboo, smut

tw. 18+ nsfw, noncon, intoxication/alcohol, anal penetration, virginity, choking, dacryphilia, creampie

synopsis. a little bit of jungle juice and megumi is skipping bases.

Megumi tries not to think about it sober. 

That is, what it’d feel like with one hand wrapped around your neck, breath bated as he preps your asshole with the other. Would tears well up in your eyes as he forces his cock into your twitching heat? Would cum spill from your gaping hole when he finishes inside you?

He’s way ahead of himself and he knows it, doesn’t have the slightest clue what your other hole feels like—hasn’t had a single taste of you in bed before. He’s doing his best to curb his curiosity, really, but lately he’s finding it harder and harder to put his demons to sleep when he’s got a little something in his system.

You’re not exactly in your right mind either, tonight, clinging to his arm at the party when you know it’s all he can do just to tolerate the slightest amount of PDA. But the throng of moving bodies swallows you whole and it feels like just the two of you in this time and space; you’re only able to hear each other over the blaring music anyway, as if the reality between you both is the only one that truly exists.

But then you’re wobbling in place, antsy movements signaling your approaching departure when he’s been secretly hoping that you’ll never let go. Your words come out a slur, a poorly pronounced “‘m going to the bathroom,” no vowel left unstretched as you peel away and turn your heel.

And as much as Megumi would love to play it cool, to wait for you by the door like a responsible boyfriend should, the curve of your ass in your favorite night time outfit lures him in behind you. You’re so out of it that you don’t even notice when the door shuts closed.

It’s all a blur from the moment you realize you’re not alone in the bathroom. He’s crept upon you unawares, was probably the one to lock the door properly when you completely forgot to. And if the mirror’s reflection wasn’t proof enough, he’s hunched over you now, lips barely grazing your ear as he whispers:

“I bet we could get away with it in here.”

And you giggle.

A fit of giggles.

A string of them, all stitched together by a stray hiccup or two as you raise your arms in compliance.

“I bet we could.”

You never would’ve guessed that your first time would be in a place like this, surrounded by people yet visible to no one. You can feel the thump of the music even from here, the beat of the bass still thrumming at your feet, familiar pop melody buzzing in your bones.

Is this really Megumi? My Megumi? you question in fragmented wonder, but the thought quickly dissipates as he gets you undressed. It’s such a freeing change of pace from the oppressive air that hangs outside, a heavy blanket of heat and perspiration and sweat-slicked clothing.

You’re still laughing when his pants drop, head swirling in dizzying anticipation. Because it all feels so surreal, how honest you’re being, how honest he’s being. He’s hardly ever let his touch wander before, yet now he’s pressing his hard on against that perfect ass of yours, hands ghosting over your thighs and up your chest as he rocks his hips into you.

You’re still laughing when he tugs at your underwear. He could do this all night long, dry hump himself to completion again and again if only that were enough for you, too—but the wet patch evidenced by the fabric reminds him otherwise.

You’re still laughing when his fingers meet your slick, laughing at how someone’s banging the door while your boyfriend pets your leaking slit, laughing and laughing and laughing. It’s sloppy work at best, but he’s buzzed and you’re buzzed, the core of your body practically singing with praises at his every touch. It reeks of booze and stink and sour and you can’t get enough of it. You push your sweet spot into the palm of his hand in an attempt to help him out, unable to hide your disappointment when he draws back unexpectedly.

But then he’s thumbing at your neglected little puckered asshole, painting it glossy with your own dripping juices. It’s been distracting him this whole time, after all, practically presenting itself to him from this angle—wholly unbeknownst to you yourself. You stiffen, pressing your back flush into his chest, so very sure that he couldn’t possibly be into that.

“Gumi, that’s the wrong hole,” you say, voice hushed as you try to move his hand away, but it’s no use. Your eyes widen in panic as he pushes you down with ease, full weight anchoring you to the sink countertop. He’s never made show of it but he’s clearly much stronger, undoubtedly several times the brawn needed to overpower you. Your legs kick as his thumb sinks deeper—a knuckle? Two knuckles? Not that it really matters, since either way...

You’re not laughing anymore.

Because the person behind you, the one who’s ignoring your words of protest as he replaces his thumb with a pair of fingers, scissoring you apart exactly where you told him not to—that person is most definitely not your Megumi.

The knocking at the door has stopped; the silence is deafening.

And all of a sudden, you feel utterly alone.

“Megumi, it burns,” you plead, voice climbing until you can finally separate it from the thunderous quietude, but he only holds you down by the neck, spitting on his fingers before reworking your walls. 

It’s hard for you to stand still like this, but you can’t tell if your legs are shaking out of fatigue or in reaction to his ministrations. You struggle to deliberate—the sensation in your ass morphing into something familiar yet strange—while Megumi simply decides it’s the latter.

There’s little warning when he deems you ready. He comes to full halt in an instant, the instant when he finally snaps and can’t bear to wait another second. He doesn’t even give himself time to admire his handiwork, doesn’t relish in the way that your walls flutter around nothing the moment he pulls out. The very next moment, he finds himself violating you past the point of no return instead.

It feels impossibly full. 

You scramble for purchase on the counter as he doubles back, your forehead nearly hitting the mirror when he lurches forward again, desperate to relieve his pent-up fantasies.

“Holy shit, it’s tight,” he hisses, as if he isn’t fucking his lover but just some onahole fleshlight. With gritted teeth he snaps his hips repeatedly, chokehold stiffening as the pace devolves into rhythmless abandon. It feels new, it feels weird, it feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your mind fumbles to make sense of it, forever oscillating between ‘oddly satisfying’ and ‘downright disgusting.’

All streams of consciousness seem to freeze when he hits a spot so sensitive you think you’re paralyzed from the waist down. You’re set ablaze, the pressure leaving you tingling and confused. Even when he misses the mark your body screams for more, pulsating with primal need.

You feel lightheaded, lack of airflow one of the few things you can focus on, and Megumi swears he can feel you suddenly clamp down on him. Every noise is blurring into each other, from your fruitless whines to the sound of his balls slapping your skin, and you can hardly tell up from down when he blows his load.

Maybe that’s what sends you over the edge: the warmth that fills your abused insides as if to reward them for all their trouble. No, you’re not cumming. You’re crying, the release of your frustration rolling off your cheeks and falling flat on the countertop, the only reprieve from the unfamiliar feeling, warm and sticky and unfair in your injured hole.

Megumi’s too busy riding out his orgasm to notice, grip on your neck loosening as you milk out the last of his semen. He watches the place where your bodies connect with intent, the thought of pulling out never quite crossing his mind. His gaze doesn’t so much as falter until you’re oozing his seed, his wildest dreams come true in vivid quality.

It’s only when he catches your eye in the mirror that he sees the trails of tears that stain your face, admires the way they catch the light when you shake your head, “No more, please stop, it’s too much…”

He hardens instantly.

🏷️ @levisbrattiestbrat

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 03  —  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 02

⇢ Word Count : 4.2k

⇢ 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?

Being  a model isn’t as always what people view it as. It’s not all just fun and prancing around in clothing that’s either revealing or not. It’s about business and fun but you mustn’t mix pleasure in. Every model knows that. But you, you took advantage of that. You decided you wanted to know what would happen if you had did that. And that is how everything went wrong.

You had actually met Jimin through Jungkook. But, BigHit staff did a casting call for one of their music videos. You had gotten chosen and while at the shoot Namjoon had sparked in interest for you. He spoke fluent english that glided of his tongue ever so breathlessly. But his adorable, cheeky dimple smile had put the icing on the cake for you. You two had been friends ever since.

They needed two girls, the protagonist and the antagonist. You were the protagonist while another was the antagonist but the role did fit you well. You aren’t the type to cause trouble and when your manager explained the script and concept to you, she thought it was a perfect match to your real life personality.

You and Jimin had hit it off right then and there. You loved his smile, his way of talking, and his cute little English phrases he would slip in then and there to you on set. It was the most adorable thing ever. He was a smooth talker too. Then Bam! You didn’t know what had gotten into him. Well.. the acting was for the concept music video, but you’ve never seen someone go from adorable to to a dominant personality so quickly. The entire switch up from the persona had fooled you good. Way.. too good.

That was how it hit you. You knew that he had to be yours.

But then yours.. became shared.

Then sharing became permanent.

Now you are single and heartbroken.

“ Long time no see! How have you been?”

You smile and take in his huge bear hug. He smelled so divine. Namjoon has always carried himself like a mature man, but in the inside you knew he’s a child at heart.

‘‘ Im fine. How are you? I’ve been on a little hiatus.” You nervously chuckle, assuming he already knows why. Namjoon nods his head and guides you further into the set.

It’s the inside of an apartment. They’ve set it up so pretty for it to seem like it’s a  real apartment. The LED lights are beaming but not enough for it to be too bright. Just perfect. You take a glance at all around the set you would be soon using.

The bed is a modern day king size in the colour schemes of black, white and grey along with a matching dresser and nightstands. White Jasmine flowers, sit on top of the nightstand along with the book milk and honey sitting next to it.

‘‘ I seen your pictures when they had dropped yesterday.” He pauses, glancing up at you to see your reaction. The way your breath hitches for a moment humored him. “ You looked very good. You did a great job. Welcome back to the business!”

Only if the business was so welcoming at all. Pictures of you had been posted on all your platforms and the comments came rushing in. Some good, but majority bad, only because the people of the world thought your comeback was revenge for Jimin’s comeback. Turns out, he had a comeback three days before you. You didn’t know, because you don’t keep up with him anymore. His fanbase was actually the ones commenting to the bad comments to leave you alone and that you moved on.

If only you made it that far to move on. 

Namjoon leads you to the hair and makeup station that’s been set up for the both of you. Each of you greet them and take a seat in the two black director’s chair with your name on it. As you sat in your chair you let the stylists and make-up artist do your thing while you read the concept script of the music video.

It’s going to be Namjoon rapping about his first love and how she broke his heart repeatedly. The hazy white flashbacks are of you and him symbolizing a couple doing things of what he had did with her.

“ So you and um.. Jimin did you guys sort things out yet?’’

You lift your head from the script instantly biting your lip. You most definitely don’t want to be reminded of him at the moment.

“ No. I like the way things are now. We shouldn’t see each other anymore.’’ You roll your eyes and look back down at the white sheets of stapled paper that holds your acting skills.

“ Im sorry if I offended. I didn’t mean to it’s just that. It’s been a year and a couple of months since-’’

He means no harm at all, and you know that because its Kim Namjoon you’re talking to. This right now though, isn’t a conversation to be held right before rhe video-shoot. You shake your head letting him know not to continue on. The last thing you want is for the makeup and hairstylists gossiping. Also for your emotions to spiral all the way down again.

The hair, makeup, and clothing stylists does a very good job on you. The make up stylists did a sort of natural look to your face which made your skin look light and dewy. The natural makeup complements the oversize, long t-shirt that is supposed to symbolize Namjoon’s.

The first scene you are going to shoot is the bed scene where you will be straddling a sleepy Namjoon’s lap wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear underneath. Which really isn’t your underwear but just some black shorts that you put underneath the shirt.

You spot Namjoon and the director conversing so you decide to make your way over to the bed by them. As you walk over, his manager glances and goes back to talking. You pay no mind to it but then, he does a double take with his eyes wide looking at your outfit and beauty. You cant lie, you do feel a little more confident than usual with this bedroom look. 

‘‘ My goodness she looks stunning!’‘ His manager smiles, holding his hand out to greet you. You take his hand and do a courtesy greet due to the fact he’s older than you.

Namjoon eyes you up and down, smiling showing his deep dimples and pearly whites. Since when is he all flirty? Where is all this coming from? What’s getting into him?

‘‘ Yes she does. Are you ready?’‘

You nod your head, glancing at the properly messy bed. The director gives you guys one last look before heading over to his place right next to the cameras. Namjoon grasps your wrists as you both make your way to the bed, letting your ears listen to the instructions.

Namjoon gets into the bed first and then motions for you to sit on his waist. You bite your lip subtlety with your eyes not leaving his as you climb carefully over onto his lap. Your core almost inches away from him member, you don’t mean to brush a little too hard against him like that. The way he hisses and stifles his groan makes you feel apologetic.

Oh Namjoon, what is going on with you?

‘‘ I need you to try waking him up with little kisses on his cheek then down his chest.’’

Glancing down at his bare chest, you almost gasp at the muscles he has. Your mind completely had ignored it when you two were chatting with the director.  Namjoon isn’t the kind to work out as much but he definitely prepared for this music video.

You nod your head just before Namjoon closes his eyes to fake his slumber. Leaning down after the director gave you two the green light, you smell his cologne which smells pretty good to say the least. The butterflies in your stomach flutter like no other when you start to leave butterfly kisses on his cheeks, making sure to kiss his dimples then trailing over to his neck.. then chest.

‘‘ Namjoon wake up smiling… right about now.’‘

His eyes flutter open with a smile landing onto yours which makes you smile right back at him.

‘‘ Interlock your hands and hold them up high.’‘

Both of you smile ear to ear and giggle at the awkwardness almost nearly as a real couple except you guys aren’t, and this isn’t real.

It was easy for you to act like you were in love with Namjoon due to the friendship you have with him. Ever since the boys were together in a group, you had connected easily with Namjoon. He has this friendly yet funny aura about him. He’s the sweetest guy you ever met, just before Hoseok. Namjoon was the one who made you feel welcomed and comfortable upon meeting the members for the first time, while you had dated Jimin. 

His eyes roam over your body intimidated by the lack of proper clothing you have on. Soon his hands take over and start to roam your body from shoulders to waist. Namjoon often bit his lip as if was thinking of saying something, but doesn’t.  At this point you didn’t know if the acting was real or not.

A day’s worth of shooting and this was it. You’ve moved locations just for this scene which is supposed to be in the middle of a vacant two way road surrounded by nothing but dust and a few trees. The last major scene. You had seen Namjoon rap his part repeatedly in different sets for him that did not include you. The dark clothing and light colored hair suited him just right.

The closing scene is the one left and ironically, it’s the make-out scene.

To your left, someone had started a bonfire to keep the staff warm as they converse about the scene and read through the scripts. You huff lightly as you get out of the chair instantly regretting it as the cold air hits your nearly exposed legs.

They’ve dressed you into a maroon skirt and a grey knit sweater that is fairly itchy paired with a knit infinity scarf. Your hair was let down to compliment your face.

‘‘ Yn!’’

You turn your head immediately over towards the direction of that voice. To your luck it’s Jungkook holding a big brown bag and two canisters of god knows what. But who trails after him makes your smile drop.

Jungkook smiles jogging towards you, almost slipping from being excited too see you. You open your arms fully to embrace his figure in which in return he provides.

“ Are you still mad at me?’’

You inhale the scent of him with a smile making sure to make eye contact with the one standing further away from him, “ No Jungkook.”

He lets go of your intertwined bodies and gives you one of his bunny smiles making you giggle at his excitement. “ I bought Namjoon and you some hot chocolate and plenty of rice-cake dumpling soup since you are working hard.”

‘‘ Thank you we will eat after this last scene okay?”

The cameras and lights are beaming down on you and Namjoon. It’s all or nothing at this point. The camera crew and director murmur a bit just before calling out that word. Action.

Namjoon looks slightly down at you with his glossy eyes. You challenge him back while not saying a word at all.

“ Are you comfortable with this?” He whispers. No, truth is you aren’t and have no desire in kissing him. To you, you feel like the kiss would make things a bit awkward for the both of you.

He’d been subtly flirting all day with you and of course you pick up on it everytime. It’s not like yourself to do such things with people you don’t have feelings for in a romantic way. Let alone, flirt with your ex’s band brother.

“ Yes.” It’s not like you have a choice to say no to it. You signed the contract, so you have to complete the entire scenes. Just your luck, Namjoon’s song begins to play in the background.

 He leans in for a kiss with your face inches apart from each other. So close that you can feel his eyelashes brush against yours. He’s stalling you, making you try to be the one to start the kiss. A small smirk on his face when you oblige taking him into the kiss. Your lips move in sync with his with his hand on your face caressing your cheek. He thinks your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, but you think his tastes like mint. 

Soon his tongue slips into your mouth to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but to let out a small whimper on accident resulting in Namjoon’s hand traveling to your waist and pushing you closer to him gently.  Excitment takes over you, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it’s the lack of dating or all the couple like things you did today, but you feel loved.

And cut! That’s a wrap everyone, please pack and get home safely.

You break away from Namjoon’s lips and chuckle at the sight of him with his eyes still closed and waiting for something to happen again.

“ Joonie we are done shooting.”

Namjoon’s eyes pop open with a smile, cheeks turning coloured from embarrassment. “ Ah really? Im sorry it’s just that i was too into the moment.”

The both of you thank all the staff for their hard work of day. While bowing to another staff, you make sure to look directly in the eyes of the friend that tailed along with Jungkook. Just as expected he looked pissed off. The sight of him biting the inside of his jaw gave you satisfaction. He fucking deserves it.

“ Can we all eat now? I brought thermal blankets and the bonfire the staff lit is still going..’’ Jungkook says, sitting onto one of the logs and placing the bag onto the ground.

“ We need to speak first.”  You say, firmness taking over your tone. You aren’t going to let this slide. Why would he bring him here? After all that happened that night, you’re sure he told Jungkook. 

He sighs and motions for Namjoon to start serving while he’s going to be gone. Namjoon gently smiles and approves just before going to sit next to Jungkook’s friend and starting a conversation.

The two of you, Jungkook and you, start walking away from the small gathering slowly. The moon shines bright down upon the both of you creating black silhouettes from behind.

‘’ I didn’t invite him. You know I wouldn’t do that after that whole situation-’’

You purse your lips and stop walking, “ So he just magically came? I didn’t tell him and I doubt that Namjoon told him.’’

‘‘ He found out Namjoon was having his video shoot and came to support him. He came late due to Isab-”

You shake your head, “ Don’t say anymore. Let’s just go back and not bring anything up. I don’t feel like speaking to him or causing drama Jungkook.”

Jungkook can tell that you’re disappointed but does not say a word all the way back. You keep eye contact away from Jimin as you sit next to Jungkook. The atmosphere is awkward for you but you know it isn’t for them.

You munch on a rice-cake dumpling not making a sound as the three boys talk amongst themselves.

You take this time to think. Why would Jimin come here if he possibly knew that you were the main girl? He just set himself up to be mad at this point. Why didn’t Isabel stop him from going, after all you are his ex.

“ Why aren’t you eating?’‘

You look towards that soft voice, plopping your dumpling down into your bowl of soup. The truth is, you actually aren’t supposed to be eating this at all. Seeing as though your modeling and appearance schedule is getting full you have to maintain a healthy figure once again.

‘’ I guess im not as hungry. I’ll make sure to take it with me if I don’t finish.’’

‘‘ Eat.’‘ Jimin says, not lifting his head up but voice firm.

You roll your eyes out of annoyance, “ Im not hungry Jimin.’’ You were, but you say it just to piss him off even more.

His chopsticks drop his dumpling into his bowl as he raises his head slowly. Anger is written all over his face but you over-power it by keeping a straight face. Part of you is mad that you said that but it’s the truth.

‘‘ Oppa. Im Oppa to you.” His eyes meet yours. You can’t help but notice that his are darker than average. You hated calling him that and he knows it. It’s cringey to you, but respectful in their culture.

He didn’t use to make you say it even while in a relationship, so you know he’s playing along with your little game.

Namjoon rubs the back of his head,‘‘ Hey guys let just eat okay? Yn you should eat more.’‘

‘‘ Rather not. My appetite is no longer here.”  You shrug as you place the lid onto the container of your food.

Jimin rolls his tongue in the inside of his cheek while keeping a death glare on you. You don’t bother to pay it any mind at all. Jungkook lets out a breathy sigh as you gather your belongings to leave.

‘‘ Im taking my leave.’‘

You give Namjoon a hug first then walk over to Jungkook who hugs you really tight. You smile and give a peck onto his cheek.

‘‘ Text me tonight.’ He whispers into your left ear before letting his grip go. You nod your head and glance at an angry Jimin.

“ I’ll take her home.”

That sentence makes you stop dead in your tracks. What the hell does he think he’s doing? 

“ I can get a taxi..”

Jimin finishes his food and throws it into the paper brown bag. Namjoon and Jungkook stare at him in disbelief. The veins on his neck are very noticeable as he makes his way over to you.

You watch in disbelief but angry with your eyebrows furrowed because they all seem to not be listening to you. “ I said I can get a tax-”

“ Yn just go with him. I will feel safer if you went with somebody you know.” Jungkook sighs, throwing him and Namjoon’s remaining trash into the bag.

“ Me and Jungkook have a lot of catching up to do. We’ll be at my house.” Namjoon catches onto Jungkook’s memo.

You roll your eyes as Jimin grabs your arm rougher than expected, dragging you along the vacant two way street to his parked Lamborghini.

You jerk away from him not wanting to be in his grip anymore. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he opens the car door for you. You stand there with your arms crossed refusing to go.

“ Yn you have until the count of three because honestly you are pissing me off. “

Your eyes land onto his with your eyebrows still furrowed in anger.

“ 1.”

You scoff at him. What are you a toddler?

“ 2.”

Yeah right. What could hap-

“ 3 ” Jimin grabs your arm tightly making sure to leave it red as he pushes you into the passengers seat. His cheeks turn a deep shade of red. slamming the car door behind you.

He doesn’t bother to put his seat-belt on before pulling off with Namjoon and Jungkook following behind him. You wince at the throbbing pain where he had marked you red. The soreness is already settling it’s way in.

“ Look..” He sighs, “I didn’t mean to.”

Tears fill the brim of your eyes. This isn’t the same Jimin you knew. He would never even think of hurting you like that.

“ Shut up just take me home.” Your voice cracks, tears slipping down your cheek as you try and massage the pain away.

You don’t say a word to him all the way there to your apartment building. The air is as thick as a slice of home-made cake yet neither of you decide to speak. That is until he decides to follow you out the car and up to your apartment, most likely to make sure you are safe getting in. You stop at the welcome mat that holds your home just beyond the door.

“ Jimin. Leave.” You whisper, audible enough for him to hear.

“ I don’t want to.”

“ I know you’re sorry. Just leave.”

You punch in your code, the date that you and him started dating.  You open it enough for just your body to slip in but that doesn’t work. Jimin pushes the door open wide, letting himself in right behind you.

You don’t say anything at all. You remove your shoes as well as he does to. Clara greets you by rubbing her body against you. You don’t bother to pet her you walk past her and into the kitchen.

Pulling out your phone, you text Jungkook letting him know you got home safely. He immediately responds with a selfie of him and Namjoon with Soju in their hands. You can’t even laugh at the two silly boys.

A harsh cold object is placed on your right arm. You quickly look down to see Jimin’s hand holding an ice-pack against the area he harmed.

“ You didn’t tell me you would be the lead girl in Namjoon’s video.”

‘‘ We aren’t together anymore. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

That’s the truth. You two shouldn’t even be in the same apartment, let alone yours, right about now. His business isn’t yours anymore. Yours isn’t his anymore.

Jimin scoffs, “ You know I will always look out for you and look after you. I’ll be there anytime for you.”

‘‘ I feel as though that’s inappropriate. You have a girlfriend don’t cheat on her like you did me.” You remove his hand and hop onto the white counter-top.

“ How many times are you going to say it huh? I was wrong I know that. But why remind me of it?”

You look him dead straight into the eyes, “ Until you suffer for a year and some months don’t say shit to me.’’

There was a silence for a couple of minutes. Your eyes wander around your fairly neat apartment until he says something again.

Jimin sighs, coming in-between your legs placing his head on your lap. ‘‘ I don’t like this.. us.”

“ Clearly you didn’t because you cheated.” You snap back, pushing his head away from you only for him to go right back. “ That’s not what I mean and you know that.” His voice is soft, just barely above a whisper.

So what does he mean?

‘‘ Im saying that.. I don’t like you being this way and distant from me. I don’t like when you kiss other people. I didn’t like when you had to make-out with Namjoon. I don’t like not being able to talk with you. I don’t like all this anger and tension between us.”

Your mind is telling you this is a red flag but your heart aches for him to go on and say what you want him to say. Could this really be it?

“ The truth is, I do miss you. I miss us. I miss everything about us. I fucked up bad and I have to pay the consequences.” His hands snake around your waist tightly. 

This is it. Finally.

You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair softly. Small sobs can be heard from him and the wetness of your leg lets you know he finally broke down.

‘‘ Jimin stop that. Don’t cry.’‘

He shakes his head, ‘’ You don’t understand. She’s not like you but I like her. My heart is with you but my mind is with her. I don’t know what to do.’’

“ You can’t love two people at once. You know that. I refuse to get hurt again by you.” You keep your voice low making sure not to get angry with him. His head lifts up showing you his red face and puffy eyes.

You can’t help but to want to kiss the tears away. So thats what you do. You kiss all over his cheeks slowly one at a time. Yes you don’t want to get hurt again, but you want him to realize that what he did is still taking a toll on you all the while you crave him and his love more and more.

‘‘ Yn..” He whimpers, sniffling.

You shake your head to hush him up and move on to his lips. His sweet, soft lips connect with yours. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Both of your tongues fight for dominance making you hold your breath to stifle your groan. This is wrong. He has a girlfriend. You kissing him would make you a hypocrite, so you break away the kiss though you don’t want to.

You sigh, lifting his head up again. Those brown eyes stare back up at you full of tears and sadness. Yet you can’t be fooled by your own mind. “ Jimin go back to Isabel. She’s probably waiting for you.”

You take his arm and lead him towards the door. He slips his shoes on without taking his eyes off of you. It hurt. It hurts a lot seeing him leave out the door each time he comes over. But you still need to face the fact that this isn’t your man anymore, he’s someone elses.

“ What if I don’t want to go back.”

You unlock the door for him and hold it open. ‘’ You can’t love two people at once.’’

“ Baby, just one last time..’’ He says, referring to the kiss you’ve shared earlier.

You shake your head no. Another kiss would surely lead to something more of a messy situation. “ When you make up your mind, you know my apartment well enough.”

And with that you shut the door behind him as your back slides down the door. You bring your hands to your hair and slip them in.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a one last time with him.

[thefanficmonster]

There You Are

PART 2: ‘Finally, You’re Back’

Karl Heisenberg x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mild spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing

Genre: Romance, Mild Angst

Summary: It’s the life before the nightmare. It’s the breath of fresh air before the pollution. The sunshine before the storm. And there they are, standing in the warmth of a sunny spring day in that Romanian village, their meeting coincidental yet fated at the same time.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! I’m sorry for the long wait but here it finally is - you request turned into a fic! Also, big thanks to that other Anon who gave me the idea of modifying the fic in a way where it’s now gonna be a two-parter, a sort of the before the nightmare and the aftermath of Heisenberg’s turning. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy ❤

Because one is incapable of expecting the unexpected One can never see what the future may hold One can never know what storms await One can never fully prepare And neither did he Because he could’ve never guessed Never known He could only see so far ahead He could only plan so much Yet he always thought he’d run free Let the winds and rivers guide him forward Never did he think his fate would uproot him into a nightmare He had no idea what to expect He had no idea he’d never be the same again Hell, to him it was the first and last time But to his hope it was a lightning spark Praying for more Regardless, in that moment When eyes met eyes, all he could think was... ‘There you are’

And there they were, standing in the almost completely melted snow on the outskirts of the Romanian village, the shy sun rays shimmering on their skin, making their hair glow. Their gaze gave away nothing yet so much simultaneously. Their crystal, shining yet still tired orbs were busy taking in their surroundings, their back turned to him. They didn’t have to face him for him to be able to guess they weren’t from around here. Truth be told, there were several clues that let him know: the clothes, the shoes, the sun-kissed skin - which there’s no way they could’ve obtained from the gloomy sunless winter in the village- but most important, the dead giveaway was the huge rucksack burdening their back and shoulders.

‘A traveler‘, he thought, ‘They’re probably lost. There’s no way they landed in this shithole on purpose.‘

The contemplation of whether to address them or not ends shortly and not really willingly - it mostly has to do with the fact that his thoughts were momentarily shut up when the traveler’s eyes met his. 

Even with the amount of distance between them, something in those E/C pools glinting in the faint sunlight while also reflecting the brightness of the last remaining snow on the ground stole his breath away and paralyzed him. He was rendered helpless and unmoving from simple eye contact with this stranger.

But they weren’t done surprising him with the overwhelming power they unknowingly possessed.

They, out of the blue, shot him a smile that could only be described as blinding. One that sent his heart racing, eyes widening ever so slightly with disbelief. He was rarely offered such a kind reaction upon being seen by someone. A smile - not a mocking or menacing one - was an expression he rarely saw directed towards him.

‘They don’t know you, idiot!‘ He scolds himself mentally, ‘They don’t know what kind of lowlife piece of shit you are.‘

Yeah, they don’t. And they’re never gonna find out

He was willing to pull every lie from the book to keep his miserable life as a nearly homeless, poorly treated worker of three jobs hidden from this stranger. He didn’t want to see pity in those eyes nor sympathy in their smile.

He didn’t want things to change. Though, he simultaneously didn’t know what ‘things’ he didn’t want changed.

And so, he decided to create some, knowing full-well they would be temporary.

“Need any help? You lost or something?“ He calls out to them as he makes his way down from the cliff and into the large field where they’re standing.

They shake their head in response, loose strands of hair forming a curtain over their features as they do so, their smile never fading, “Nope, not at all. I’m exactly where I wanna be.”

“What could you possibly wanna see here?“ He asks, now without having to belch his lungs out due to the smaller distance between them.

They turn away from him, pointing to the monstrosity of a building he’s more than familiar with, towering over the village and dominating the outskirts. Having been abandoned for years now, the factory has become a home for rats, roaches, bats and Karl Heisenberg. The young man runs the risk of having it all crumble atop him while he sleeps the three hours he’s allowed each night. He’s not usually embarrassed by this fact but he doesn’t proudly announce it either. Sure, some people who pick on him and are determined to make his life a living hell have spread rumors about his place of stay but no one dares go into the factory to fact-check. It’s menacing exterior looking to be straight from a horror movie or a nightmare is more than enough to drive any person away, but the haunting noises the place harbors accompanied by the many creatures that produce said noises just add to the fear factor among the villagers when it comes to the century old structure.

“That.“ The traveler says, looking almost dreamily at the building so many people turn to with disgust and fear. “Would it be trespassing to enter? I really wanna have a look inside.“

Forgetting to mask his confused and surprised expression, Karl is caught with that wide-eyed, mouth-slightly-agape look on his face which sends the traveler in a fit of laughter.

“I know I probably sound crazy saying that, but abandoned places are sort of my thing, you know. I can’t simply pass by one without going in and doing a literal scavenger hunt. Not that I ever find much apart from graffiti and crap all over the place, but it’s worth having a look. Especially inside a place that looks that old. And man is it huge.“ No, his assumption was right the first time - their eyes do indeed get dreamy when they turn to observe the giant structure further down the overgrown path.

Who gives him the right to tell them no?

“Lucky I found you then.“ He says, shedding every last bit of confusion and replacing it with enthusiasm, a wide smile plastered on his face, “Follow me, I know all the entrances.“

He needn’t tell them twice. Hell, he barely had to finish his sentence before they literally took flight as they rushed - as much as they could with the heavy backpack they were carrying - towards the factory, taking his hand to drag him along, never stopping their river of gratitude the whole way there.

It awoke something in him, something warm and genuine that made him want to get to know this sunshine in human form better. He hasn’t had a chance to smile plenty in his life, never having a reason to do so. But during this less than five minute interaction, he hasn’t been able to contain the grin brought upon him as a side effect of their own happiness.

“I’m Karl, by the way!“ He informed them as they stomped their way up the path.

“Nice to meet you, Karl!“ They called back, giving him a brief glance over their shoulder, “My name’s Y/N.“

‘Y/N‘ the name echoed and repeated itself in his head, intensifying that feeling dangerously close to adoration.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.“

                                                              *  *  *

Dust and dirt had stuck to their clothes, practically merging with the textile by the time the pair left the factory to see the setting sun once again. The darkness and dinginess of the factory periodically made them forget how beautiful the outside world was. The place was filthy but what Y/N didn’t know is that it had been in a worse state before. Before Karl started staying there.

The young man always had a fascination with mechanical engineering, having met many workers who worked in the factory prior to its closing. They often times snuck him in so he could admire the work process the different types of machinery they had in there - many of which still remained in the factory covered in rust and spiderwebs. That being said, he took it upon himself to clean up a bit, treat the powerful mechanical giants with the respect and decency a machine of their kind deserved. Some he even miraculously repaired - probably the biggest achievement in his life - but he was yet to put them to good use, given that he still didn’t know how to properly operate them and what their true purpose was.

“That was incredible!“ Y/N cheered once the two had stepped onto the grass outside in the field again, “I can’t believe I almost started debating whether to go or not after so many of the villagers tried to scare me.“ They turned to give the factory one more lingering look, “Damn, I wish I could go back in there again to see if we missed anything. Unfortunately, my time’s limited.“ They sigh, checking their wristwatch before sparing the setting sun a look as well. “And it’s almost up.“

The knot that suddenly appeared in Karl’s throat made him choke on the oxygen he had inhaled. The worry of what those words of Y/N’s meant made his stomach turn.

But, before he could ask what they meant, they gave him an apologetic smile, their eyes still shining, but saddened now, “I have to get going. I have a different destination I need to reach by dawn.“ They sighed heavily, looking down at their boots. Karl opened his mouth to say something, but he found himself to be at a loss for words. He felt hollow and empty and couldn’t bring himself to stomach what he had been told. However, Y/N once again beat him to the opportunity of saying something. Their head snapped back up, their eyes meeting his, now glimmering with the glow he had grown to think of as familiar at that point. “However, that doesn’t mean I won’t be back.“ They took him by the wrist and brought his hand up, opening his clenched palm to drop a small chain in it. “Growing up, I was taught to not expect people to return things you give them but to go and take them back yourself. And so, Karl, I’m giving you this necklace and promising I’ll be back to retrieve it.“ They closes his palm again, letting his arm fall by his side. While he still had only processed half of all that happened when they spoke up again, “Ok, so now I ask of you to stay here, not see me off, not follow me, just stand right here. Or you can turn around and walk away too, that’d be even better. Can you do that for me?” They asked, cringing suddenly, “Sorry, I’m bad at goodbyes.“

He faintly nodded, unable to get any words out yet again. That was probably a good thing, cause there was a huge risk that he would’ve asked them to stay if he spoke. 

Taking his nod as a positive response, they gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning around and walking off in the direction they came from earlier, leaving him behind.  Karl wanted to force himself to walk in the opposite direction like they had told him to, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off them. He stood there, heart aching, watching them go. All the while squeezing the dog tag necklace tightly in his hand. The physical proof of the person that reminded him how it felt to feel.

The physical proof of the promise that they’d come back.

They’d come back to him.

He’d see them.

And he’d once again think to himself...

There you are, finally, you’re back

[elysiadjarin]

Sword and Shield 7

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 6: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/655814128564355072/sword-and-shield-6

Warnings: not really much, some mentions of fights etc.

Notes: Well, after this chapter y’all... I think. You know. Where this about to go...

7: Tumbling

Tipoca greeted you the way it always did: a bustle of commotion as soon as you stepped foot off of the ship. You’d dressed in the standard gear that the Kaminoans had given you: a modified pair of blacks that essentially fit you like a jumpsuit.

Following Hunter, you and the rest of the team let him lead the way down the halls. Clones moved through the hallways as well, some of them giving you looks but the majority just ignoring you. By the time Hunter had opened the door to the Bad Batch’s usual barracks, you’d begun to brace yourself for the usual checkups and procedures you knew would follow.

“Hey Shiv, looks like they’ve moved your stuff in already,” Wrecker said, bounding into the room and over to his bunk.

You went over to the singular trunk that had been set in the middle of the floor, labeled with your designation number Unit 526934. Opening the trunk, you found your extra few changes of clothes and the random odds and ends that you’d left behind. Most of your favored possessions you’d either left with the 501st or taken with you onto the ship already, so the little you’d left in your quarters on Tipoca held little to no value.

Digging through the trunk, you grabbed the one item you’d hoped they hadn’t forgot, relieved it was still there. You let out a breath as you closed the trunk and turned to the table. Turning over the small holoprojector, you placed it down on the table and flicked it on, watching the images flicker into view. You smiled as you flipped through the couple of pictures of you with the 501st when you’d first been taken to Tipoca.

Pictures of you, soaking wet from the rain, laughing with the 501st. Fives, splashing you as Kix chased after you both with a towel. Your smile faded a little as you came across a picture of Echo, his grinning face fixed on you and Fives as he watched you both slip on puddles and slick durasteel.

Flicking it off, you stuck it into your bag and looked around. Apparently you were required to stay with the Bad Batch now, not that you’d protest.

“Uh, Shiv— looks like they didn’t bother to put another bunk in here.” Hunter turned to you.

You shrugged. “That’s okay. I can go on the floor or something.”

“You could share with me.” Tech adjusted his goggles. “Mine can extend a little further.”

You turned to glance at his bunk. “Oh... are you sure?”

“Awww, no fair Tech! I wanna sleep with Shiv!” Wrecker leaped up from his bunk, promptly cracking his skull against the top of it and letting out a yelp.

You could have sworn your entire face flushed at the double entendre of the words, but you tried to swallow and push it away. “Um- if you’re alright with it....”

Tech’s face looked a little colored. “If you want.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tech. You sure I won’t make you uncomfortable? I tend to gravitate toward heat... I’ve been told I’m a little cold-blooded.”

He opened his mouth to reply when Crosshair snorted. “Really Shiv, do you think any of us would complain about that?” he asked, sending you a dark smirk from the other side of the room.

You swallowed thickly as Wrecker laughed and Tech sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Hunter chuckled.

“Well, it’s not as if you haven’t all fondled me already,” you said smartly, turning on your heel to go back to your trunk.

A dead silence filled the room for a moment as you bent over the trunk and started rummaging again, trying to search for the pair of night clothes you’d left behind last time. They’d been comfortable, and you didn’t want to give them up.

Then Wrecker burst into hearty laughter again. He walked up to you, grabbing you and hoisting you up as you squeaked a startled protest. “That’s the way, Shiv! Give it to him!” He swung you around as you squealed, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“Wrecker— Maker, wait—“ you tried to say through laughs, the world spinning.

He playfully tossed you down onto his own bunk as you shrieked, hair falling into your face. Grinning, he bent over you and handed you something.

“I want you to meet Lula,” he presented with a flourish. “Made ‘er myself!”

You brushed hair out of your eyes and took the little stuffed bunny, smiling at the stitched-on smile. Leaning forward, you had to bury your face into the plush tummy and breathe in Wrecker’s unmistakable scent. It smelled like the sizzle after a rain of blaster fire, the plume of smoke from an explosion barely wafting through the air, all underscored by a hint of sweat and a warm, thick scent that you just knew was wholly him.

“Lula is really warm, and soft,” you said softly, fingers squeezing the arms as you smiled up at Wrecker.

He hovered over you, face lighting up as you approved. “You like it? It’s coming apart a little, though. I gotta get ‘er fixed.”

You looked back down at it curiously, then turned it over. A seam had started to unravel at the back. “Oh— I can fix that, if you have the materials,” you offered, tugging carefully at the thread to see how loose it had gotten. Frowning, you tied a knot in the thread to keep it from further unraveling.

“You can?” Wrecker leaped up, managing to avoid hitting his head that time, and went to go rummage in all the miscellaneous parts.

“Here, Wrecker,” Hunter said, tossing him something from the other side of the room.

Wrecker caught it, squinting down at it. “Oh goody, it’s the thread.” Then he resumed looking for what you hoped would be a needle.

“Do you need anything, Shiv?” Hunter asked, turning to you briefly from his bunk.

You shook your head, scooting to the edge of Wrecker’s bunk and carefully holding Lula. “No, thank you. My trunk is here, and I guess I’m sharing with Tech, so... I should be good. Besides,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, “the Kaminoans will give me whatever they see fit anyway.”

“Oh, right.” Hunter walked over to you, handing you a datapad. “You’re being called into the medbay at 1800 Standard. I assume for a checkup.”

You glanced at it, then nodded and scrunched your nose. “Yeah, it’s going to be a long one,” you sighed, shoulders slumping. “Especially since that stupid stunt I pulled on that first mission.” You absently reached up and rubbed your arm, feeling the phantom pain of melting flesh tearing away.

Hunter glanced at your arm with a frown. “I thought it healed?”

“It did,” you said, “but now they’re going to poke and prod at it for a while to figure out the cellular regeneration most likely. Plus, they never have figured out why bacta patches tend to do more harm than good on me.”

He nodded. “Fair enough.” He walked back to his bunk just as Wrecker returned triumphantly.

“Found ‘em, Shiv!” He presented them, sitting back down next to you.

You set Lula down in your lap in order to take the materials, threading the needle with the thick, dark thread. Trying the knot, you turned Lula to the nearest light source and carefully inserted the needle.

“How’d you learn to sew, Shiv?” Wrecker asked, watching you start to mend the split seam.

You tucked in a bit of the stuffing. “Slave days.” You shrugged slightly, focused on getting the seam pushed together properly so it wouldn’t unravel as easily. “Gotta sit still and look like a useful and pretty ornament, y’know. Whims of the rich and whatever.”

“I still don’t understand,” Hunter spoke up, a growl in his voice. “Why would a Separatist choose to make you an ornamental slave instead of a weapon partner?”

You took a moment to tie the knots and snap the thread, then started re-threading the needle to do another tight layer. You finally answered with a sigh. “Bragging rights. Besides, I wasn’t a person to them. I was just a biological weapon, nothing more. What’s the point in treating me like an independent being? It’s one of the biggest reasons I found family in the Clones.”

The thoughtful silence told you that your point had hit home, and you started the second layer carefully. “I’m going to do another layer just so that it won’t tear as easily next time, Wrecker,” you explained, watching the needle push through the fabric and the stitches crisscross over each other.

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, Shiv.” Wrecker nodded, still apparently finding the process interesting.

You hummed, double-knotting the last stitch and snapping the thread again. Turning, you handed him the newly-mended Lula.

He cheered, taking her back excitedly and beginning to babble about it.

You had to watch him with a smile even as you pushed the needle through the spool of thread. Wrecker’s innocent joy in the simple things had always drawn you, the way he let himself be unapologetically enthusiastic about what he cared about. You had to fondly smile as you watched him toss Lula about and razz Crosshair.

Standing after a moment, you went and put the needle and thread back on the table and resumed your interrupted search in your trunk. Thankfully, you’d found the sleepwear and set it on top. Standing, you ran a hand through your hair and glanced at the wall chrono. It read 1730, so you grimaced and grabbed your ankle monitor.

“I have to go to the medbay,” you called over your shoulder, hopping as you slapped the monitor on your ankle. “I should be back around 2100, hopefully before.”

“Good luck, Shiv,” Hunter said with a nod.

You threw them a wave as you rushed out the door, headed for the medbay. They usually wanted you to be early so you could take a quick sonic shower and change into the proper clothes. As you’d expected, you found a droid waiting for you as soon as you entered.

“Greetings, Unit 526934,” the droid bleeped. “Please make your way to the showers. You’ll find clothes waiting for you when you’re done.”

You nodded, biting back a sigh as you made your way over to the shower cubicles. Getting clean, you clambered out of the shower and changed into the loose-fitting robes that they’d provided. Picking at the hem of the shirt, you walked out into the attached room.

The droid waited by an examination table. “Please lie here.”

Without a word, you climbed onto the table and laid down, staring up at the ceiling. The monochrome color swirled in front of you, making you grimace and close your eyes against the brightness. A few minutes later, the doors opened just as the wall chrono chimed. You didn’t even bother opening your eyes.

“Hello, Unit 526934. Welcome back.” The smooth tones of the female Kaminoan washed over your ears. She started to move through the room, her silent footsteps only marked by the rattling of tools. “I trust your missions have been successful.”

“Depends on your definition, but sure,” you said flatly.

“You seem distressed,” she noted.

“Tired,” you corrected. It wasn’t a lie. You were definitely tired of these checkups, the way they always insisted on poking and prodding at you, picking you apart, shoving things into your bones and veins. Taking things from you. You hated it. But this, as you knew, was the price you’d chosen to pay.

To stay with the Bad Batch? You’d be the most cooperative patient they’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like a tranquilizer while we do this checkup?” She offered.

“No thanks.” You kept your eyes closed, not protesting when her long fingers rested against your wrist.

The rest of the preparations took place silently as you forced every other thought out of your mind. You’d have to make sure you weren’t projecting too much so you didn’t bother the others. Sometimes, the way the Kaminoans experimented left you with an aching jaw as you grit your teeth against the pain.

Hooked up to an IV for a blood sampling and a medley of other liquids that they regularly drained into you, you felt the table jolt as you were pushed to the other side of the room. You opened your eyes, staring blankly above at the top of the machine that now hovered over you. It hummed to life, a soft light glowing at the edges of the smooth metal.

“According to your most recent report, you received a substantial injury on a mission,” the Kaminoan remarked smoothly. “Did you sustain any damage?”

“No,” you answered blankly, voice expressionless. “It healed over in two days. I had to cover it.”

The machine beeped, the droid puttering around the room coming over to check your IV. The blood sample had been taken, so it unhooked that line and instead gave you a small injection. Your arm numbed almost immediately, and you closed your eyes in resigned exhaustion.

“It looks like your scans show that you’ve completely regenerated sixty percent of the tissue in your arm recently,” the Kaminoan reported. “I will have to take samples to test. Did the injury reach your bone?”

“No.”

“Did you sustain any broken bones?”

“No.”

The Kaminoan tapped at the screen controlling the machine, readjusting the table so your head was mostly covered by it. You closed your eyes again, ignoring the other metallic clinks of instruments being prepared.

The Kaminoan returned. “It seems as though the removal of the inhibitor chips has continued to prove successful. Your brain functions have seemed to recover well,” she remarked clinically. “In time, you may have regained enough stability to consider a new one.”

You sourly hoped not.

The Kaminoan pulled the table back out, then settled you against the wall. The droid kept the fluids steadily dripping into your veins, and you felt the cold start to creep its way into your bones. Despairingly, you hoped that Tech wouldn’t mind if you ended up clinging to him like a leech by the time morning rolled around. It always came as a side-effect of the fluids. Though you knew that they boosted a lot of your internal functions, it still demanded a price.

“I will start taking samples.”

You grit your teeth, jaw ticking as you felt the cold needle press against your arm. It pushed, entering your skin without a sting thanks to the numbing agent, but you knew it wouldn’t last the deeper it went. And it continued to push. The pain started welling, and while you were used to pain, there was something about the cold metal point burrowing further down that always took you off guard.

The needle hit bone.

It took every ounce of willpower you had to shove back the scream that tore through your chest, welling in your throat. Ruthlessly, you shoved the pain away from the Bonds and down deep into yourself, willing yourself to stay quiet.

Your eyes nearly rolled back up into your skull with sheer relief when the needle pulled back out. The deep-tissue sample was usually the worst part. You could feel the light sheen of sweat that had broken out on your body start to cool even further, adding to the way your temperature dropped.

The ankle monitor beeped, warning about your plummeting temperature, and the droid instantly began to dial the fluid drip back. The Kaminoan nurse swiftly pulled a heat lamp down over the table, letting the artificial heat wash over you. Your muscles had started to tense with the cold, your eyes still stubbornly screwed shut against the pain.

“Your temperature should start rising soon,” the Kaminoan tried to soothe, adjusting the heat lamp.

Darkness plucked at the edges of your consciousness, and you blacked out.

~

Exhausted and still cold, you limped back into the Bad Batch’s quarters with the ankle monitor still on and a medbay blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Shiv?” Hunter sounded incredulous.

You looked up and waved them off. “This is normal, don’t worry about it,” you sighed, going to your trunk.

“What do you mean, normal? None of us have every come back from medbay looking worse than when we went in,” he demanded.

“Lemme get changed and I’ll explain,” you promised, grabbing your night clothes and heading for the bathroom. Changing into the comfortable pair of shorts and tank top, you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders again and shuffled back out into the room.

Tech was already sitting on his bed, so you went to go sit next to him, pulling the blanket to cover your feet. With a groan, you reached up to rub at your eye.

“Are you alright, Shiv?” Tech turned to you with concern, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, I’m freezing cold,” you said miserably.

“What did they do to you?” Hunter asked again with a frown.

You sighed, leaning into Tech’s shoulder. “Normal procedure for me is going in and getting a blood check, physical, and brain scan. I also have to get a bag of fluids that’s made to boost some of my biological functions, kind of like how you’re modified to be enhanced. It helps with my physical upkeep, but the side-effect is brutal. I’m going to freeze like an icicle for the rest of the night,” you grumbled. “And since I had to regenerate sixty percent of the tissue in my arm, they took a deep tissue sample.”

“A what?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head from his bunk. He held Lula up, craning his neck toward you quizzically.

“A deep tissue sample is when an injection has to be made in order to obtain cells from a section of a patient’s body,” Tech answered for you. “Oftentimes I’ve heard it can be very painful when it reaches bone.”

“They’ve got that right,” you said, eyes drooping closed with a heavy sigh. “They even had to turn on the heat lamp this time to get my temp back up. Oh, Tech,” you added as an afterthought, “I hope my ankle monitor won’t bother you. I have to keep it on tonight to monitor my vital functions. Like I said, the fluids tend to drain me of any and all heat.”

“It’s not a problem, Shiv,” Tech reassured. “If it goes off, what should I be prepared to do?”

“The only reason it’ll probably go off is if my body temp drops too low,” you sighed. “If I can’t, tap the monitor for me and it’ll manually send a burst of heat to regulate me.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright? You said the process was painful.” Hunter checked.

You shrugged. “Nothing I’m not used to,” you said. “If anything, I hope I don’t bother Tech. I’m going to become an ice-cold leech.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I volunteered, then,” Tech said dryly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’ll have to take advantage of whatever chances I get.”

You let out a laugh despite yourself. “Be careful what you wish for. You might regret it in the morning.”

“Nah, if Tech doesn’t want ya I’ll take ya, Shiv!” Wrecker grinned. “Lula and I can make room.”

“Thanks, Wrecker.” You smiled, feeling the sleepiness descend. Yawning, you leaned your head against Tech’s shoulder.

The cold dragged you into sleep.

~

“Shiv. Shiv, it’s time to get up.”

You let out a groan, pulled out of blessed sleep. You didn’t want to move. You felt perfectly, comfortably warm, and something heavy was draped across your waist. Instead, you whined petulantly and buried your head into the source of warmth you were so tightly pressed against.

A sharp inhale of breath hissed against your ear, but you were already falling back asleep-

“Shiv.” Someone’s mouth had pressed against your ear. “We have to get ready for the conditioning in an hour.”

Slowly, the words bled into your sluggish mind. Conditioning... an hour. Tipoca. Kaminoa. Right. Training exercises. An hour-?

With a yelp, you jolted awake and found yourself flailing. Your entire body went off the edge of the bed, slamming against the unforgiving floor. Grimacing, you reached up to rub the spot where your hip had landed.

“Ow, ow— don’t scare me like that, Maker—“ You opened your eyes to see Tech peering over the edge of the bunk at you.

“You alright, Shiv? Sorry I didn’t catch you, you startled me,” he said.

You stared up at him for a minute, your brain starting to put pieces together. You’d... probably been pressed against him. And that weight: his arm on your waist. The soft murmur and his kiss to your ear. You flushed.

“Oh, Tech— I’m sorry, I told you I’d probably end up being a leech,” you groaned.

“I wasn’t complaining, Shiv,” Tech said, swinging himself to a sitting up position.

You sat up, still rubbing at your sore hip. “Well there’s another bruise,” you muttered. “Thank you, Tech. I feel back to normal, I think.” You stood gingerly, patting at yourself. Your body temperature felt pretty normal, a bit chilly from waking up but nothing unusual.

“As much as I’d like to continue seeing you walk around in that, I think you might want to get ready for the conditioning,” Hunter remarked, walking past.

You blinked, then flushed as you remembered the shorts and tank top. Shaking your head, you grabbed your outfit from your trunk and went to go change.

By the time everyone was geared up and ready to go, you were starting to feel a little less sore from the needles. While the numbing agent had worked, it sill left a bit of an ache deep in your arm where it had hit bone. You walked down the hall following Hunter and absently rubbed your arm.

“Is your arm still hurting?” Crosshair asked sharply.

You started a bit. “Oh... I mean, it’s more of an ache. The needle hit my bone, so it feels weird,” you said, shaking your head. “It’ll go away.”

You arrived at the training deck on time. Taking in a deep breath, you tried to mentally prepare yourself. You didn’t know exactly what they’d throw at you this time around. You had to be prepared.

The Kaminoans watched from the observation deck above as you walked in, the doors sliding shut with a hiss behind you. The Prime Minister was there as well, to no one’s surprise.

Force 99, please prepare yourselves for a standard simulation. Unit 526934, please prepare to engage yourself as a non-lethal training weapon only.

You simply turned to Hunter, waiting for directions. He nodded to everyone as they started pulling their helmets on. “You guys know the drill. We’re used to Shiv by now. Just act like you would any other mission. Shiv.” He turned to you, holding out his hand. “Permission to Transfer.”

You sucked in a breath and grasped his hand. “Transfer Granted.” As soon as you’d Shifted, you didn’t even bother projecting an astral form as the simulation began. You’d already defaulted to Hunter’s preferred modifications, though you carefully made sure that your fire was stun-only.

The combat droids started to swarm, causing Hunter to duck and weave through the barriers and start firing. A pattern soon presented itself, and you picked up on it as soon as Hunter did.

“Tech!” Hunter yelled, tossing you.

You guided the weapon into Tech’s outstretched hand, instantly splitting into two. You whispered across the Bond. Pattern of four, flanking both sides and driving a wedge down the middle.

Tech nodded as he continued to fire and make his way closer to Hunter. “So it’s trying to funnel us toward the center and get us trapped,” he deduced.

“Wrecker, clear a path down the middle, Tech and I will cover you!” Hunter shouted.

“Wrecker, catch!” Tech called.

Wrecker whooped and caught you easily, charging straight into the middle of the arena. You formed yourself into a stun grenade launcher, and he eagerly fired a few into the swarm. Manually charging in as Hunter and Tech picked off the ones that got too close, Wrecker used you to both shoot as well as physically bat away some of the droids.

From a vantage point, Crosshair had already started sniping down the towers and picking off droids that threatened any of his other teammates.

Droids started swarming you and Wrecker even more, and you were pressed to focus on both keeping a second eye out for him as well as making sure your shots were still stun-only instead of live fire. They swarmed towards the center, and you quietly murmured across the Bonds.

Wrecker laughed heartily, elated by the action and the promise Hunter’s conveyed plan presented. “Let’s do it!” He roared, swinging you in a circle and firing gleefully. “Come and get it!”

It only took another moment before Hunter yelled “Now!”

Wrecker barely hesitated, pushing himself off the ground in a mighty leap to the side. He fired unerringly toward the mass of droids, a stun-grenade arcing through the air. A bolt from Crosshair hit the grenade dead-center, and it went off in a mighty pulse as you dragged Wrecker down to the ground to avoid the shockwave of the blast.

All the droids hovering in the air instantly dropped, sparking.

Slowly, Wrecker looked up. A moment of silence, then a bell chimed from above.

Simulation complete. Prepare for phase 2.

Wrecker scrambled to his feet. “What? Phase 2? What’s that?”

Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech quickly came up.

You materialized over Wrecker’s shoulder. “Phase 2 is my fault,” you said quickly. “It’s meant to be a test of how well I can switch between all of you as need be. There’s going to be most likely a set of obstacles of some sort that will lean on your individual strengths and see how well and quickly I can adapt.”

Hunter nodded. “Everyone keep as close as possible and support Shiv. Keep sharp and listen to the Bonds and each other.”

Everyone nodded and scattered to nearby barriers. For the time being, you stayed with Wrecker.

As soon as you caught sight of a droid staring to rise from a panel in the floor, you sent a pulse over the Bond. Wrecker barely paused before turning and chucking you clear across three barriers.

Hunter caught you as you Shifted into his modified blaster. “Any ideas, Shiv?” he asked tightly.

It’s a heavy fire unit, You guessed by its build. I don’t know what mods it might have, but I think treating it like an armored assassin droid would be best.

He nodded, then leapt over the barrier and started to run towards the droid. He weaved and dodged the bolts, and you Shifted into an energy shield to help block any stray blasts. Hunter dropped and skidded across the floor as you Shifted back into a blaster. Leaping up, he shoved the blaster into the crack between the two chinks of chest armor and fired.

Dodging out of the way, Hunter instantly turned and kicked at the droid’s legs. You Shifted into a vibro-shiv, and he slashed instantly at the droid’s back plate. The droid fell to its knees, and Hunter sank the shiv into its head plate, carving it open. You Shifted into a blaster again, and he fired instantly into the now-open head.

The droid crumpled, and Hunter whirled around to look for the source of the faint buzzing he’d heard. As soon as he caught sight of the tiny, round droid speeding around the edges of the room, he whipped his arm back.

“Cross!” He shouted in warning.

You Shifted midair, guiding yourself into Crosshair’s hands, already complete as his preferred modified sniper rifle. He smirked, then sprinted over to one of the towers in the room. You positioned your astral form in the usual place to his left. He climbed the tower, taking up a spot and propping you up on the railing.

Peering through your sight, Crosshair let out a quiet breath. You took the moment of complete silence in his head to gather yourself, preparing for his next order. His warning came a split second before the shot itself, but you were prepared. His shot hit the tiny droid almost dead-on, and a moment later you’d deflected a last ditch-effort shot made by the now-useless droid.

Crosshair turned his head to catch sight of the tower’s control panel flickering on. “Tech,” he hollered down, dropping you.

Tech looked up, catching both blasters you’d Shifted into flawlessly. Crawling around his barrier, he started into a dead-sprint toward the nearest tower. He lifted you as you Shifted into another shield, holding you above his head just in case. You took a single shot thanks to his weaving and dodging, so you were ready when he reached the tower.

He instantly propped you up and began slicing into the tower’s controls. It took him all of a minute while you braced yourself. You kept Shifting sizes of the shield depending on the shots aimed toward you. If you concentrated on a shot, it was much easier to conserve energy, maybe even absorb it and use it to refuel yourself. But the larger the shield, the more the shots would take out of you.

It didn’t take long for Tech to finish slicing and recoding the tower. Its turret rotated and started firing at the others until they were all down.

Tech grabbed you, letting you Shift back into his twin blasters. He sent you the schematics for a set of weapons, then shouted “Wrecker!” You automatically became an IWS as Wrecker caught you, but you studied the schematics Tech had given you with interest. A pair of armored gloves?

You started to copy the weapon, figuring why not? Wrecker looked down in surprise as you covered his hands, forming into the heavy gloves.

“Whoa, what are these?” Wrecker’s eyes lit up with interest as he turned his hands over.

Why don’t we find out? You asked with a smile. So far, this had been the most successful Phase 2 you’d ever experienced, and while you could feel the stress, it didn’t debilitate you like it had before.

Wrecker looked up just in time to see the center floor panel open up to reveal a giant droid ambling forwards. He grinned, then slammed his fists together in front of himself. The gloves started sparking, and you quickly made them stun instead of live energy.

With a whoop, Wrecker leapt forwards toward the heavy-duty droid. His first punch with the gloves made the droid shudder, sparking; but after a moment, it recovered itself and pressed forward again. You kept half a mind on Wrecker and continued studying the schematics of the gloves, refining the gloves and streamlining it as you familiarized yourself with it.

“Hey Shiv,” Wrecker grunted, still punching away at the droid, “what else do these do?”

You absently flicked on a button, and faintly heard Wrecker whoop as energy coils started threading between the gloves. Wrecker knocked the droid’s legs out from under it and started to wrap the energy coils around its head and neck joints. Still, you only half paid attention as you continued to study the schematics. They had aspects that made you wonder if Tech had been modifying it himself. There were mods that clearly hadn’t been made for a standardized weapon.

“Gimme a last good punch, Shiv!” Wrecker hollered.

You looked up from the schematics, shifting your attention, and powered up the gloves to as high of a safe extent as you could. Wrecker let out a shout and slammed his full weight into the chest of the droid. The entire chest plate caved in, and you winced as the stun energy rippled though the entire rest of the droid, reducing it to a heap of smoking parts.

Wrecker stood, nodding in satisfaction and smacking the gloves together. “These are awesome!” He cheered, shaking his fists in the air. “Hey Shiv, can we use these more often?”

You materialized over his shoulder, staring at them yourself. “I haven’t figured out all of it yet, so it might take me some time to make it better. But yes, if you’d like,” you agreed.

He turned his head to you in surprise. “You haven’t?” he asked as the rest of the team approached, the finish bell ringing.

You shook your head. “Tech gave me the schematics before he passed me to you.”

“You mean you made it functional on the fly?” Hunter asked, surprised.

You nodded. “Yes. I’ve studied weapons for most of my life, so it’s not as difficult anymore. But this schematic has modifications that weren’t meant for this weapon originally, so I’ll have to further study it to make it as practical as possible without compromising the rest of the weapon’s functions and overall integrity.”

Tech adjusted his goggles. “I didn’t expect you to try it right away. It was a weapon I’d found base schematics for on a mission. I thought I’d try to make some mods to accommodate Wrecker’s particular preferences. I figured I’d share what I had with you for the time being, since you’re now our partner and weapon.”

You disengaged, staggering a little as you dropped to the ground. Catching yourself, you shook your head from the giddiness that bled over from Wrecker.

“I like it,” Wrecker said with an adamant nod.

You smiled dizzily. “G-good.”

Hunter caught your arm. “You good?” His eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

“I’m fine, just-“ you squinted, balancing yourself. Taking a breath, you re-centered and shook your head. “I’m a little... that was the best I think I’ve ever done for a Phase 2,” you admitted breathlessly.

“You did great.” Hunter gave you an encouraging nod.

“I believe that was also one of the quickest battle sims we’ve managed to complete,” Tech noted, scrolling on his wrist unit. “We took a total of eight minutes and fifteen seconds for the first one. During Phase 2, Shiv Shifted weapons a total of 12 times in the span of twelve minutes and twenty seconds.”

Battle Simulations Complete. Performance Satisfactory. Prepare for mission assignment within forty-eight chrons.

You flushed as your stomach let out a loud growl. You hadn’t really eaten since lunch the day before, and you were now feeling it.

Wrecker laughed. “Let’s go get food!” He clapped your shoulder and started toward the doors.

Tech fell into step beside you as you all walked towards the now-open doors. “You did very well,” he offered. “I saved the footage in case you wanted to review it.”

You gave him an appreciative smile. “I’d love that, thanks, Tech. I’m glad I did well.” You let out a sigh of pure relief. “It was really stressful.”

As soon as the Bad Batch walked into the canteen, you mentally braced yourself for snide comments. It was always the same no matter who you were with, and worse if you were alone. Still, you hoped that the others wouldn’t be too effected by it.

Grabbing a tray, you felt your shoulders hunch a little. You just... wished others would simply ignore you. Their comments didn’t even matter, but it always felt so awkward. And sometimes, you’d found, ignoring them only earned you more trouble. Putting the bland food on your tray, you wished for a moment that you could just cook something yourself on the ship.

You followed behind Wrecker’s bulk as he confidently made his way to an empty table. Feeling a presence behind you, you glanced back with wide eyes to see Crosshair following behind you.

“Sit on my side of the table, Shiv,” Cross said coolly. “Wrecker always starts something in the canteen when others make comments.”

Though you didn’t really mind either way, you nodded and slid into the spot next to Crosshair on the bench. Hunter slid in on your other side, while Tech and Wrecker sat across from the three of you.

You just silently tucked into your food, grateful for the nutrition at the very least. Wrinkling your nose at the dubious soup, you decided to dunk your bread into it instead to avoid the taste as much as possible.

“The soup never is good,” Hunter said with a roll of his eyes as he copied you.

You nodded with a soft hum, spooning the other food into your mouth.

A group of troopers passed by your table, chuckling and nudging each other. “Well if the outcasts don’t find each other,” one of them sneered in your direction.

Another snorted. “Yeah, looks like the Sad Batch found the flimsi-opener.”

You were fully prepared to ignore it all when Wrecker leapt up from his seat.

“Leave Shiv alone,” Wrecker fairly growled, glaring at the group of troopers.

Choking on a spoonful, you pounded at your chest at the unexpected rush of heat that traveled down your body at the sound of Wrecker’s voice dropping that low and raking down your spine. It was the sound of his voice as much as the abrupt defense that took you off guard, and the way your body reacted to it completely unbalanced you. You could feel color burst in your cheeks as you stared wide-eyed up at Wrecker still glaring balefully at the troopers.

“Sit down, Wrecker,” Hunter said, waving his hand. “They don’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

Wrecker huffed. “They don’t deserve to talk to Shiv like that,” he complained.

You shook your head wordlessly, trying desperately to shove the memory of Wrecker’s face contorted in a feral snarl, his growl rolling through your mind. You weren’t even sure why it had effected you so heavily, but... You shifted a little in your seat, realizing with despair that Hunter would probably be able to smell your reaction at this rate.

“You okay, Shiv?” Wrecker turned to you, back to his normal husk as he frowned.

You coughed, shaking your head and then nodding. Swallowing thickly, you pressed your thighs together and desperately tried to refocus on your food.

Beside you, Crosshair let out a low, knowing chuckle. His hand under the table briefly brushed up your leg, and you let out a squeak, instantly clapping your hand over your mouth.

“You look flushed, Shiv, are you alright?” Tech frowned, observing your face.

“No- ye- no-“ you choked out, pointedly trying to look down at your tray. Biting your lip hard, you picked up your spoon again. Why was everything suddenly so... sensitive?

“If they say anything again, I’m throwing this table,” Wrecker said darkly, glaring around the canteen.

You couldn’t take anymore. You needed out. Standing abruptly, you grabbed your tray. “Excuse me, I’ll- I’ll be in the room-“ You fled, choking on your own words. Fairly throwing the tray at the return, you started running down the hallway and out of the canteen.

You barely made it to the barracks before your knees gave out. Leaning against the table, you sucked in a burning breath and closed your eyes, shivering. You didn’t even know why, but something about the way Wrecker had instantly stood to his full 6 foot 6 inches and growled at the person who had insulted you just... did something. It was like someone had flipped a dusty switch in your mind and broken a dam in the process.

Sucking in a breath, you grabbed your sleep clothes and went to go change in the fresher. You needed out of your blacks as soon as possible. The heat that spread through your whole body was the polar opposite of what you’d felt the night before.

Still, even after you’d changed into the tank top and shorts, your body still felt like it was on fire. The heat puddled in your lower belly, making you press your hand against it. Your skin felt so hypersensitive, the comfortable clothes rasping against you in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

Grabbing a datapad, you shakily tried to scroll to the report of your last medbay visit hooked to the ankle monitor you’d shed that morning. Scrolling through it, you pulled up the list of the fluids you’d been injected with. A particular side effect listed on one of them made you let out a broken groan and sink down onto the nearest bunk.

The door flew open. “Shiv?”

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[tomurasprincess]

A Caged Dove Part 2 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not.

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: T+ for this chapter, but E+ for future ones. Chapter Warnings: Yandere themes, obsession, suggestion of forced marriage, murder Series Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Word Count: 3.1k Note: Fairy Tale AU. (Still more Grimm than Disney). First part was my event entry into the @bnhabookclub, a group I am so happy to have joined. This series is actually something that I am really proud of, and I’m glad that it seems to be getting such a good response. I hope you all like part 2! Thank You: To @thewheezingwyvern, who continues to discusses this idea with me for hours, albeit with less screeching now that I’m actually posting. Woman, I really appreciate your help. @jojosmilktea​, thank you again for making the gorgeous banner for me! I am but a humble peasant compared to your banner making, and must bow to the queen.

One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)

You are being led to your assigned bedroom in the Todoroki castle, a large extravagant room unlike anything you've ever experienced back at your own home. The ceilings are tall and vaulted, with a gorgeous ornate fireplace along the back wall. A large four-poster bed dominates the space itself with a canopy hanging from all four posts. When you step into the bathroom, you notice the large claw foot tub in the middle of the room, and you find yourself immediately wanting to use it.

It has been a long day, and you were barely able to fix yourself up for the meeting properly. A fact that is unusual, considering the nature of this meeting. The royal family sometimes take days to meet with guests, even ones they summon. Having an immediate meeting with him left you off balance and feeling very unprepared for the meeting.

And as for Prince Shouto himself, you really don't know what to make of him. On one hand, you can see the Todoroki royal bearing about him, the kind of manner you would expect from the heir to the throne. On the other hand, you see something in his mismatched eyes that you do not like. Something dark and possessive. It worries you in a way that you cannot explain, but there is nothing to do right now but play along.

Play along and hope that Prince Shouto will come to his senses, drop this madness. You are no fit companion for the heir to the throne, no future queen to sit beside him. There are far better options for one such as him, and you do not want the kind of responsibility this will lead to. You just have to prove to him that there are better options for him. Or at worst, wait for your parents to return from their trip and explain that you do not want this. Even the Todoroki family, as powerful as they are, cannot ignore the right of noble parents to refuse a match.

You sigh to yourself as you go to bed, hoping a better answer will come to you in the morning.

~~~~

You are woken up gently by someone calling your name in the distance, and you blearily open your eyes to see a handmaiden standing beside your bed. You realize quickly that it's not your own that you brought with you on this journey, and you instantly inquire about that. "Excuse me, but where is the girl from my household?"

"I am terribly sorry Princess, but I was summoned here to take care of you for your rendezvous with his Royal Highness," she gives a deep curtsy to these words.

"You are dismissed," you say gently, "I would prefer to use my own handmaiden. She already knows exactly what to do in order to get me ready for such a big event."

The handmaid's face turns panicked, her eyes flicking about as if she's worried that someone will hear what you said. "I am terribly sorry Princess," she whispers, "but I must be the one to do it or I could face a reprimand."

You recognize the word reprimand the way it's intended, the hidden meaning behind it clear. She will be punished, most likely severely, if you don't allow her to finish this task. Refusing or failing a task given to you by the nobility can have horrible consequences, even with the kind hearted royal family.

You give a sigh as you roll gracelessly out of bed. "Alright then, you may assist me." At your words, the panic leaves her face and she gives you a bright smile. What kind of punishment would make her so scared, you wonder, her fear being so intense that it makes you worried.

You shake your head before realizing that there is nothing you can do for her and that there is no way to find out. She seems too timid to get any real answers out of. You allow her to lead you to the bathroom with little complaint as she helps get you out of your nightclothes and into the bath. She helps you with every aspect of cleaning your body, of washing your hair, picking and laying out clothes for you. Then she assists you with putting on every piece of clothing before applying your makeup and fixing your hair.

By the time she is done with all of this, you almost feel like going back to bed. Taking this much time to get ready every morning is exhausting, and it's not something you need to do back home. She leads you to a full length mirror against the wall of your bedroom and encourages you to look into it.

What you see almost takes your breath away at the woman staring back at you. You are in a gorgeous, floor length ball gown, a dark red color with traces of silver swirling through the pattern. The jewelry is all silver, rubies inlaid in every piece in such a way that it almost looks like drops of blood woven into the metal itself. Your hair has been kept long, but with braids here and there that have been wrapped around the back of your head like a crown. You have never worn such finery in your life, never looked so beautiful. The perks of being courted by a prince, you suppose.

"Thank you, you did a wonderful job," you compliment the handmaid. "And I suppose it's your job to take me to Prince Shouto, as well?" You realize what you called him as soon as the handmaiden's eyes get wide and frightened, and you belatedly realize that you don't know if he gave you permission to call him that outside of being alone with him. You decide you need to confirm that one way or the other when you meet him, lest you get yourself in trouble.

The woman wisely chooses to ignore your possible slipup, merely nodding at you as she motions you through the door. You walk through several long, empty corridors, as you quietly take in the sights of the palace. You have never been here personally, but you have heard the stories, and it truly does live up to the reputation of splendor. Maybe a bit too much splendor, you laugh to yourself, as you can't imagine living here regularly.

Finally you reach your destination, an open air courtyard within the palace gates. It is surrounded by beautiful flowers of all different types and colors, and a large cherry tree in the middle of the area. It's under the tree where Prince Shouto stands waiting for you. He is in his full prince regalia, his suit jacket and pants black with silver accents here and there. An elaborate sword hangs at his waist in a gold scabbard. You glance up at his face to see him already looking at you, a small smirk gracing his face as he notices your attention.

You make your way slowly towards him, stopping at the acceptable range for a noblewoman of your station. But Prince Shouto does not seem to care about such a thing, as he immediately moves even closer to you, the distance between you bordering impropriety. This is the distance a husband and a wife would be from each other, you think in alarm. You try to take a step back, but he simply grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist. He takes one slender finger under your chin to tip your face back so that he can stare into your eyes.

Your heart is pounding as you're frozen in indecision. Nothing about your training tells you how to react when a prince ignores all manner of modern decency to pursue a lower class noblewoman. Your eyes dart back and forth, a pathetic plea for help as you know no one would dare go against the Crown Prince.

He lets out a small growl that brings you back to attention, and you find yourself gazing into his eyes at the heat that lay in them. "Look at me, Princess," he whispers, "and no one else."

Your eyes widen at his possessive tone, and you try to think of a response until he suddenly pulls away completely. His face is back to his neutral look, and it's as if you never saw the darkness, the fire in his eyes.

Before you leave the garden with him, he reaches up to pluck a blossom from the tree right overhead. You give him a questioning look before he reaches down to tuck it into your braids. You reach up to gently touch the flower in your hair, before giving a slight smile at the rather boyish gesture. He smiles back at you and offers you an arm, and left with nothing else to do, you take it.

The next few hours are pleasant, if nothing more than idle chit chat. You take a pleasant stroll through the gardens as he explains the castle grounds. You occasionally drift into castle drama with one noble or the other, but never anything controversial. To your surprise however, he seems very interested in your own opinion on various political issues. Even when you two disagree, he listens to your opinion and even modifies his opinion when he finds you made a good point. This is rather pleasant, you think to yourself. Maybe your instincts were wrong after all.

"I am delighted that you agreed to go on this date with me, Princess."

You inwardly roll your eyes at the statement, but bite back a retort. You both know that you had no real choice in the matter.

"It has been rather pleasant, Prince Shouto. I am surprised, however, that you take my opinion into consideration. I am not as familiar in the area of politics as you are, as my own territory is small."

"You again do yourself a disservice. You are quite well read, and even in this talk we have had today, you have proven yourself to be a rather quick learner. Anyone who reads as much as you do must be. It is a surprise you have had no one court you before me."

"Thank you, Prince Shouto, that is very kind of you to say. That means quite a lot coming from you, someone who has been groomed for politics and ruling all his life." As you say this though, something strikes you as odd about what he said. "I'm sorry, but how do you know that I read a lot? Or that I haven't been courted."

He smirks as he shrugs his shoulders in a distinctly un-prince like fashion. "Oh, it is simply known. Many people talk about the Princess who would prefer to read in her library over getting married."

"That is not entirely true, Prince Shouto. If you don't mind me saying, of course," you hastily add. "There was one who wanted to court me, a local noble in my territory. But something happened to make him drop everything, leave the country."

Prince Shouto's gaze turns dark, almost murderous. "Is that so? Are you talking about the foolish noble who tried to run to the country of one of our enemies? He tried to steal something from the crown, was found guilty of treason and was swiftly executed."

You stare at him in horror as you try to reconcile his words with the friendly, sweet man who had wanted to marry you. You thought you had loved him, was looking forward to a life by his side. For him to be convicted of treason, to be dead, it left you speechless.

"I - I did not know that," you say quietly. "How did you know?"

"It is my job to know what's going on with my country," he says impassively, "and what's going on with people who try to take what's mine."

The wording of this strikes you as odd. Stealing from the crown was a capital offense, but the prince seems to take it almost personally. As if it was an attack on him directly. You shake your head and chalk it up to one of the many strange facets to Prince Shouto.

He takes you to an unknown building on the last stop of the tour and leads you down a long corridor until you reach two huge double doors. He pushes them open, motioning you inside. As you walk through the door, you can't stop yourself from letting out an audible gasp.

The room is a library, although that is a poor description for the vast beauty of this place. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line every wall, with tables and chairs in the middle for sitting and reading. On the far side of the wall sits a little reading cubbyhole, similar to what you have at home, for when you want to hide away from the world and immerse yourself in a book.

You forget all sense of manners as you rush away towards one of the bookshelves, turning your back to a prince in a shocking breach of decorum. But as you turn back to apologize, you don't miss the way his face is flush with pleasure at your enjoyment.

"Please continue, Princess," his smile turns sharp, "this room is for you, after all."

"What, what do you mean this room is for me?" You ask in confusion.

"As my wife, this library will be all yours."

Your eyes light up a bit at the thought of all of this being yours, although you're still slightly confused by his statement. But you decide to take his comment about continuing at face value, and you walk hurriedly to the first bookshelf you see before gently running your fingertips along the shelves. They are full of books that you love, all of the classics and nonfiction, the romance and the horror. You wander through the whole library, checking every section and simply breathing in the smell of old books.

But you notice a disturbing trend as you go through the library, something that becomes more and more obvious as you look around. This is not a complete library by any means. But the genres, the books that are missing, are all the ones that you do not like. You glance at the classics section, and notice all of your favorite authors are here, and the few who you dislike are conspicuously missing. The same with some of the nonfiction. Whole genres of books are missing, entire sections of authors.

As you get to the back section of the library, things become even more chilling. An entire bookshelf, full of all the books you have wanted to read but could not for one reason or another. There are classic first editions here that you could not buy even with a year's worth of your family's salary. Some of these are even books you had piled up by your bed, waiting to read.

You whirl around in horror as the dawning realization hits you, and you come face to face with Prince Shouto. There is a gleam in his eyes that makes you understand that he knows precisely what you just realized. "What is the meaning of this," you try to make your voice come out strongly, but instead it comes out in a low whisper.

"I told you," he wraps an arm around you as he pulls you flush against his body, "this is going to be your library." His smile turns dark as he adds the next part. "When you become my wife."

When. Not if. No room for argument. No wiggle room. Just an absolute statement from the heir apparent of the Todoroki Empire. "You said you were given permission to court me," you try to say reasonably, "but saying when makes it seem like it is already decided. When my parents return from their diplomatic mission, I can always make them withdraw their permission."

He laughs outright at that, a motion that you can even feel being pressed so closely against him. "Ahh, my poor naive little princess." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear that has loosened from your braids. "You assume that you'll even be given a chance to talk to them."

It feels like your heart falls all the way down into your stomach. "You can't keep me prisoner here," you try to say, but it sounds hollow even to your own ears. You are within the Royal Palace, in the arms of the Crown Prince. If he doesn't wish for anyone to see you, excuse after excuse could be made. And his family is so well loved that every single one of them would be believed.

You are trapped. Completely and utterly trapped. You can see no way of escape from this no matter how hard you try, and your breath begins to come out in short gasps. You can feel the walls closing in on you, as if you're being placed inside a cage from which you cannot escape.

If he notices your panic, then he gives no indication. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head. "I promise you, being married to me will not be so bad. You'll have everything you've ever wanted." He pulls you in for a heated kiss, his tongue deftly sliding into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. His hand comes to the back of your head, cupping it firmly so that there is no way out.

When he pulls away, your cheeks are slightly flushed, and you gasp for air. "Prince Shouto, please ---"

"There is a better word you can be using now, you know," he interrupts you.

A better term? You don't know what that would be as your mind struggles to keep up with everything that is happening. You try to slow your mind down, try to think of what he could possibly mean. And it finally hits you. You glance at him and see his amusement as he motions for you to go on.

A tear rolls down your face as you whisper the damning words. "Prince Shouto, my - my husband."

He smiles in sheer contentment at hearing those words from you, words that he's longed for ever since he first laid eyes on you. "Ah, now there's my good princess," he whispers as he kisses away the tear from your cheek.

A good princess, you think bitterly. You will not be thought of as a good princess when you free yourself. You only wish you could see the look on the prince’s face when he realizes his caged bird flew away.

~~~~

Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @shoutogepi, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @katsukisprincess, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @mimikarasu, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen,  @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @oktamaki, @daringbanshee, @otaku-explosion, @hellomary16, @vanillaicebaby, @theravencawsatmidnight

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

@sajdd

Ok since one singular person asked for this the Big Explanation for Everything In My C!Tommy Design.

General:

c!Tommy, in general, I always try and find a balance between my really soft style and c!Tommy's rougher personality. I draw him with soft features but very sharp eyes, both to make his facial features distinct from cc!Tommy and a contrast to c!Tubbo who I draw with less rounded features but much softer eyes. I try and keep his usual expressions slightly smug and self-assured, to get across c!Tommy's bravado.

I generally draw him with tanned skin, as I imagine he’d spend a lot of time outdoors. This does vary on the arc I’m drawing him in, though, for example he’s much less tan in Pogtopia because he has less access to natural light whereas he’s more tan in exile due to not having much shelter from the sun. This is also done to make the pale scar on his nose bridge more noticeable- it’s one of the two scars I draw Tommy as having from the beginning, as I feel it shows c!Tommy's scrappy, determined personality very well. The other scar is a long jagged vivisection scar which is there to show my labinnit headcanon lol.

While I draw c!Tommy with varying hairstyles and lengths, I always draw him with curly textured hair that’s a very pale blond. I also draw his hair as leaning to one side and partially covering his eye, similar to how I draw c!Wilbur's hair, to show their closeness. I also draw c!Tommy with similar wings to c!Wilbur and c!Philza- specifically, I draw them with the same starry night sky pattern I do with c!Philza, but a lot smaller and atrophied.

I really like putting lots of fun design elements in characters eyes because drawing eyes is fun and c!Tommy is no exception! I draw his eyes a very bright electric blue, and I use a small brush and very light varied colours to make them look like they’re filled with little stars. I also give him red pupils to match his main colour association in either the shape of a full or broken heart depending on the arc. I went with a heart design to show his hidden kindness and loyalty.

There’s also a lot of design elements that are admittedly there primarily because I enjoy drawing them, and less for any specific reason. The fangs do have the most reason, to help show c!Tommy's rougher personality, but I also just like drawing fangs lol. (I also draw him with braces in every arc, since I imagine he couldn’t get them removed in exile and he didn’t have the time to care afterwards). I also draw him with bioluminescent, starlike freckles and a strange blood colour which is also used to help texture the skin (well, slightly, it’s not super noticeable but it’s pink instead of red) which are both just things I like to draw.

Also, this is a small detail, but I always draw c!Tommy with a Church Prime necklace (unless I forget it which I do sometimes lol). It’s a good way of showing his faith through a quick look.

Fun fact, what’s probably most noticeable about my c!Tommy design is that as soon as Tommy made the joke about his character being made in a lab I picked it up and ran with it, specifically the idea of him potentially being a clone of c!Philza. I draw them with identical facial features and hair colour/texture, though a lot of the more supernatural features of c!Philza are toned down on him. That’s specifically because due to my hc that c!Philza is an angel and angels as ageless it’d be impossible to clone them exactly so c!Tommy has some random human/hybrid dna thrown in haphazardly (which also makes him a mess of instincts from pretty much every animal ever lol)

Disc War:

I really like the headcanon that c!Tommy was nine during the L'Manburg war entirely because its really funny to imagine c!Wilbur looking at this literal nine year old and being “yes, my right hand man, responsible enough to help manage a nation in my stead,” so c!Tommy is roughly 9ish around this time in my design.

During the early Disc War is probably the only time I actually draw c!Tommy as close to his actual Minecraft skin lmao. It helps show that, despite the fact I don’t hc him as human he is mostly just a normal kid. I don’t draw c!Tommy in the traditional red and white t-shirt entirely just because I want to make sure he’s not mistakable for Dave Strider though. I have him in a white button-up shirt, a red and white hoodie, cargo pants, and trainers.

During this arc, I draw c!Tommy's hair as fairly short and very similar to how I draw c!Wilbur, as this was back when he idolised his brother and I think drawing their hair so similar shows that well.

L'Manburg:

This covers the time from the beginning of the L'Manburg war up to c!Tommy's second exile to Pogtopia, so this design covers a period of years from when I hc c!Tommy was nine up until about thirteen.

During the war, c!Tommy wears his uniform without modification, except for of course wearing his Prime necklace, but afterwards he and the rest of the residents of L'Manburg (except c!Wilbur) slightly modified their uniforms to better fit their own tastes. Specifically, he wears his trainers instead of combat boots, loose trousers instead of shorts, and a slightly shorter and short-sleeved revolutionary jacket, for easier mobility.

During the war, his two canon deaths left him permanent injuries and scars. His death in the final control room, where he broke his leg during his desperate attempt to escape, left that leg permanently weakened (along with being badly scarred) and requiring a leg brace to help him stand and walk properly. The arrow through his skull during his duel with c!Dream left him with a large scar on his temple, covering his brows in crack-like scars which also leave him with frequent migraines.

During the L'Manburg arc, c!Tommy's hair in my design still looks like c!Wilburs as they were still close during this arc.

Pogtopia:

Since Pogtopia apparently lasted two years (which is probably from Cursed Timeline Lore but I love cursed lore it’s hilarious,) c!Tommy would be around 13 to 15 here.

In Pogtopia, I draw c!Tommy as wearing similar clothes to during the Disc War arc, however, I also add on a loose belt holding knives, to show c!Tommy's increased need for self defence along with his fondness for knives lol. I actually don’t do the bandanna design with c!Tommy and c!Tubbo a lot of people do mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work with c!Tommy's hoodie. They have an equivalent but it’s later on alas.

As c!Tommy and c!Wilbur get more distant, c!Tommy grows out his hair slightly, and wears it tied in the back in a short ponytail.

Exile:

Oh I have a lot of things to talk about here >:). As a quick note to my messed up timeline, c!Tommy would be 15 here.

During exile, c!Tommy wears the same clothes as he did in Pogtopia initially, though due to lack of care and supplies, they eventually of course fray and rip. He also wears c!Wilbur's old ragged longcoat, even though it barely keeps out the cold, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes weirdly comforting. Over time, he rips up his shirt for bandages to the point he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. His leg brace breaks and he makes a new one out of branches and leaves. (He could ask c!Dream, but he doesn’t want to be fucking reliant on him, relying on pity handouts like a child, so he won’t.)

Eventually, since c!Dream doesn’t exactly want c!Tommy to get hypothermia and die anticlimactically, he gives c!Tommy one of his capes. This is one of my favourite character design decisions I’ve made lmao. I specifically draw it looking too-big, despite the fact that doesn’t make much sense because they’re the same height, so it looks almost like he’s getting enveloped in c!Dream's green shades, and it also hides c!Tommy's wings which helps reinforce the loss of freedom.

c!Tommy gains… a lot of scars over exile. I mean he was literally hit by an axe multiple times. Specifically they’re primarily around the shoulders or the torso. I also draw him with a Glasgow grin, specifically curved to resemble Dream's mask, along with smaller, self inflicted, scratch and bite marks covering his arms. In addition, due to him barely eating I draw c!Tommy from this point onwards looking very scrawny. This is also where c!Tommy's pupils change from hearts to broken hearts! They never turn back :)

During exile, Tommy's hair grows out a lot, down to just past his shoulders, in a matted mess. c!Dream used to braid it at the back, like how I draw c!Dream's own hair, but it very quickly grew too matted with saltwater, mud, and blood to style :) :) :)

Bedrock Bros:

c!Tommy turns sixteen here during my scuffed timeline.

c!Tommy patches up the rips and tears in his clothes. He can’t fully salvage his cargo trousers, so he turns them into shorts. He makes his own shoes out of leather to replace the ones he lost. There’s a gaping hole in his hoodie pocket that couldn’t be stitched up. He'll patch it up later. c!Techno gives him one of his capes to keep him warm, fur lined and arctic blue with silvery snowflakes embroidered on. c!Tommy has to be reminded, or he puts on the green cape, turned a dull viridian from the sun, that makes him feel both safe and so, so afraid.

Scars heal, but never fully fade. Still, his eyes brighten again, somewhat, even if the bags under his eyes less disappear and more just turn a strange gold. He finally has the time to clean out his hair, and c!Techno ties it into a short, loose braid at the back. With the cape, he almost looks like c!Techno like that. Obviously, the visual implication here is to show that even though it’s obviously not exile, c!Techno is still suppressing c!Tommy's identity, albeit unknowingly (and the gold is from his constant eating of golden apples).

Final Disc War:

By this point, c!Tommy's back to just wearing his old clothes, tattered and frail as they might be. He finds his old sneakers, and day by day he sees himself in the mirror a bit more than the gunpowder on a battered trenchcoat, blood on a smiley face mask, wither rot on the edges of an elaborate snowy cape. He patches the hole in his hoodie with a piece of the fabric from one of c!Tubbo's old shirts. He lends him one of his too-small hoodies so he can do the same.

He still braids his hair, but in his own way, in a tightly woven ratstail braid more for convenience than for aesthetics. Character design wise, it’s another way to show c!Tommy's openly rougher personality than say, c!Dream or c!Techno, and so’s the patchwork clothes and rough shorts and scars. Like I said, maintaining a mix of rough and soft is very important to me in how I draw c!Tommy, and I’m very satisfied with how I pull it off here and in the next entry.

Revival:

the story has handed me the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead. i will not pass up the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead.

After revival, c!Tommy stops aging, at least in appearance. His skin… less pale, more colourless and almost grey. One of his eyes glows a pure, empty white now, like ghosts do, and the white messy streak in his hair doesn’t glow but it’s white enough it might as well.

The injuries of his death bear apparent on his form. His limbs can bend at impossible angles, his entire body covered head to toe in bruises. Two black eyes cover his face like a raccoon mask, and the ugly mottled marks of strangulation on his throat stand out like a sore thumb. You cannot look at him anymore and not see that he hasn’t died. He avoids mirrors again.

There’s stranger things, too, like how he doesn’t bleed anymore, any cuts just revealing an impossibly dark void beneath his marble-cold skin. Sometimes he goes weeks without eating, the hunger only hitting once he realises. He feels so tired, so cold, in a way not even the touch of fire can stem at all. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, or breathe.

Initially, he was too tired, too out of it to even consider cutting off or dying the white streak. When he wasn’t, he’d soon learn any attempts were futile, dye fading in mere days, cut off hair half regrown in a week. It should bother him more, but he just feels numb.

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Flirt mode  A C T I V A T E D 👏

As everyone else in the room was getting ready to depart for the day - chatting here and there and gathering their belongings - Vee was mostly occupied by her handbag, making sure everything was there before she would leave the place. She did not hear when someone approached her, but she next felt the poke of an object to her right shoulder.

“I didn’t want to make you feel bad earlier,” started Donatello’s voice. “But I truly do think we’re connected somehow now.”

She looked at him, first noticing that he had been poking her with a cardboard file folder, and then she took a good look at his clothes. Purple. AT LEAST not the same shade. He was wearing a fitting v-neck sweater of a dark purple color, with a white shirt  and a black tie underneath, his looks completed with dark charcoal pants and black shoes.

“... You’ve got to be kidding me,” started Vee with a stifled laugh. “Why are we like this?”

“I’m not superstitious, but maybe it’s destiny. We were meant to work together,” he winked. “Great minds think alike!”

Vee couldn’t hide her smile, next prompting him to get on the move for their dinner. She first expected them to walk out of the building and head to a subway station, but she was surprised to see the turtle head towards the indoor parking lot of the building.

“Wait, you want us to go by car?” she asked, her heels clacking rapidly on the tiled floor as she caught up to him.

“Why not? It’ll be quieter that way! I don’t feel like dealing with crowds in the subway anyway.”

She had to give him that, at least. A car would smell better than a subway train... As they made their way through the lot, she noticed Donnie getting out keys, the woman commenting:

“Huh, I thought you’d have a chauffeur or something like that.”

“Why, because I’m rich?” asked the mutant, amused. “I like driving, so I don’t see why I would leave all that fun to someone else.”

He pressed a button on a small remote attached to a key, which prompted a black SUV nearby to flash its light.

Vee was most certainly impressed by his taste, first observing the vehicle until she noticed the other opening the passenger door for her.

“The lady may take her seat.”

As she took place, her eyes scanned the interior.

The major difference she could notice from any other cars was how the driver seat was rearranged a bit further back, allowing space for the mutant’s shell most probably. As Donnie took place next, Vee couldn’t help her question:

“Is this car completely custom made?”

The other smirked: “If it was, it’d be way cooler. ... Nah for this I only had a Genesis GV80 model slightly modified to accomodate my form. I like the look of it and I don’t need something too extravagant to go around on the streets.”

“ ‘Don’t need something too extravagant’,” quoted the woman. “You do realize that you have an expensive car?”

“Remind me to show you my brother Mikey’s cars,” added Donnie, then starting the car’s ignition. “Then we can talk back about what’s expensive.”

As soon as the vehicle was brought to life, music was heard, being none other than Dio’s “Better In The Dark” track. The turtle rapidly fumbled to turn it down, his eyes widening.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for that,” he said once silence was back.

“... Are you kidding? You shouldn’t apologize for listening to Dio!” reassured Vee. “That guy frickin’ rocks!”

The terrapin smirked: “Ah, a woman of good taste! You keep on getting better and better.”

Vee couldn’t help her smile in return, the pair then finally getting on the move.

***

Donnie had to park his SUV on a quiet street, the duo next walking towards their destination; New York’s Little Italy. The evening was already laying its shadows in the sky, but the streets were bright and colorful, the warmth in the air of the incoming summer days an absolute delight. A light conversation was held as they were walking, until Vee was abruptly stopped by almost falling due to one of her heels stumbling into a small crack in the sidewalk. She was first surprised by how fast Donnie had been to catching her, a small laugh escaping her. To feel his touch around her, his strength, all she could hear was her heart drumming in her ears. They continued their path, Vee’s arm hooked to Donatello’s. It simply felt like a dream at that point...

They finally arrived to the place; a small rustic looking restaurant that had been hiding from the bigger crowd’s broad sight. There were few patrons inside, the ambiance calm and somehow giving a “feels like home” kind of vibe. Donnie seemed to know the place well, only quickly waving to the staff and already going for a table. It was a nice little corner with a table large enough so they could lay down their paperwork. Being a complete gentleman, the mutant was quick to draw a chair for Vee to sit on, waiting until she was seated properly before settling down across the table. A waiter was already at their disposition, Donnie already asking for a bottle of white wine, interjecting some Italian words in the bunch and ending with a “grazie mille”, to Vee’s surprise.

“You speak Italian?” she asked as the waiter was walking away.

“Non molti, ma un po' sì (Not a lot, but a little bit yes),” he answered. “Still learning, but I’m getting there.”

“Do you know any other languages?”

“I’ve tried to start learning Japanese alongside my brother Leonardo, but I’m not as proficient as him so far. I’ve also started French.”

Vee couldn’t help herself: “Donc, si je parle dans ma langue maternelle, tu devrais comprendre? (So, if I speak in my native tongue, you should understand?)”

Donnie froze for a moment, soon ruminating the words and showing a smile.

“Un peu (a bit),” he said. “But I feel like I need to practice a little more.” He did not skip a beat when adding: “I don’t know why, but I think a French Canadian’s accent sounds way more interesting than metropolitan French. There’s a certain flair to it, I can’t really explain...”

Vee was most certainly amused: “Try going into any rural parts of Québec, then you’ll feel like you’re speaking to aliens or something. Our French is unique, sometimes butchered, but it is nice indeed.” She did a small shrug. “I could help you practice, if you want.”

Their wine arrived, their glasses filled and the bottle left at their table. Donnie took his glass, pensively rolling the drink in his hand.

“You keep on giving, miss Vee, and I’ll soon feel cheap. First you’re helping me for the Lowline, now you’re proposing to help me with my French. ... My oh my, mademoiselle, I’ll have a debt to repay once again.”

“Let’s start by actually getting something for dinner,” added the woman, lifting the menu to her face in order to hide her blush. “It’ll give me time to think about if I need your help with something. What’s good in here?”

It was so hard to act casual...

“Their pastas are the best, but I’ll have to say that their tiramisu is to die for - I’m definitely grabbing one of those at the end.”

As the evening went along, Vee was finally starting to feel more at ease. The food was delicious, the wine delectable, and the company absolutely charming. They took some time to review the folder Donnie had brought along, talking about the project’s restrictions and demands. It was simple enough thus far, some ideas already boiling in the woman’s mind. Maybe the wine was kicking in, but she didn’t even flinch when her hand brushed the turtle’s over some papers. Her body language was screaming interest, lightly hunched over the table, actively listening to him and her smile tender. She couldn’t quite explain this attraction she felt. All she knew was that Donnie had this aura surrounding him; a welcoming and calm presence that made her feel safe and relaxed. His humor was subtle and his additions to a conversation well-placed. He was a man of many words and of a vast knowledge, although gladly giving the spotlight to any soul speaking, always listening with great interest. Vee could only admit that she wanted to learn more about him.

***

The dinner over, the pair headed back to the SUV, Donnie at least insisting that he could drop Vee to her place. How could she say no to a sweet smile such as his, anyway? The address handed, the ride went on smoothly in a comfortable silence, the woman glancing at the many lights outside - not even noticing that the terrapin would sometimes glance her way and feel this lovesick knot in his chest...

As he parked nearby her apartment building, he did not hesitate to get out as well, at least considering it good etiquette to escort her to the entrance.

“I hope I didn’t make it harder for you by cramming all that information in your face?” he said as they were talking, arms hooked again.

Vee shook her head, amused: “Absolutely not. It has given me ideas, in fact.”

“Good, good.”

As they stopped by the main door, they paused, their hooked arms transitioning into a longing, yet subtle touch of their hands. Vee finally moved her hand away, her blush faint as she removed a small strand of hair from her face.

“... This was nice, thank you,” she said. “Not the habitual work meetup I’m used to, but this was good for a change.”

Donnie quickly cleared his throat, retrieving his thoughts.

“Of course! It was quite pleasant, indeed. ... It’s not often that I get such enjoyable company.”

“You’re sweet, thank you.”

There it was, that silence as they both crossed gaze. That moment of unspeakable words and uncertain actions... The mutant sweetly smiled, breaking that moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. ... Goodnight, Vee.”

“Goodnight, Donnie.” She felt like she could breathe again...

Yet, as she saw the other walk away, she added:

“Donnie!”

He turned back.

“I think I know how you can repay me for the French lessons,” she continued. “... How about another evening together? Not work related this time.”

Joy lightened up the turtle’s features, definitely agreeing: “Absolutely!”

And just like that, the night felt even better.

((Part 5))

[echo-of-sounds]

bnha original characters

This is less about the characters themselves and more about their quirks, their strengths, weaknesses, and the like. I only included Ursa and Cujo in this from anxiety bear. 

I might make more about Quick Comfort’s reader, some side characters, and villains to explore their quirks further. Let me know if you’d like to read about more characters! I liked doing this!

anxiety bear’s reader

Hero Name: Ursa (Latin; bear)

Quirk: Arctotherium

She can transform into an Arctotherium angustidens (an extinct genus of South American short-faced bear). A secondary effect of her quirk is her enhanced senses.

Height: on all fours, she’s 5’11ft at the shoulder (perfect height for biting people right in the jugular); on her hind legs, she’s 12ft

Weight: around 2,900 pounds

Hero Costume: It’s made out of simple, relaxed, and breathable clothing. To nullify her heightened smell, she has a mask. It’s a small, specialized respirator that filters even the tiniest odor. After she uses her quirks, she needs food, so there’s a small pocket on her thigh that she keeps filled with protein bars. For cold weather, she adds a cloak.

Strengths:

Ursa’s sheer mass and weight benefit her, making her difficult to knock/jar, a powerful hitter, and becomes quite the tank when she gets charging. Running up to 45mph at long distances, she’s easily able to break through walls, catch those trying to escape, and escape herself if necessary. She relies mostly on her senses of hearing (which exceeds frequencies humans can hear) and smell (which is about 2,000 times greater than a human’s).

Her fur, dark brown in color, provides protection against impact and some claws/knives due to its thickness. It is not impenetrable. Enough force behind the weapon can spear through her fur.

For offense, her claws and teeth are her main weapons. Her paws are about 1.2 feet (not including her claws). Her claws are around 4 inches. As with other bears, they aren’t actually that sharp. She just has enough power behind her swing to cause damage no matter their acuteness. It’s enough to knock the wind out of someone.

Weaknesses:

She can’t talk while in bear form. She can hear, but being unable to communicate back can cause difficulties while working in teams.

While Ursa’s enhanced senses prove useful in many cases, they’re also her main weakness. Overloading her senses is a sure-fire way to force her unconscious, incapacitated, or to unshift. Smell is the quickest and easiest to overtax, especially with acrid, bitter, and sharp scents. Hearing and sight are next: with high-pitched noises, inaudible by the average human, and deep, bass sounds that rumble her bones; and with bright lights, flashing ones are the worst.

Because of her sensitivities, she acts more like a powerhouse for brief fights. If she’s in one too long, the greater the chances of her becoming overwhelmed. She’s more of a hindrance than anything if she gets overwhelmed.

Quirk Side Effects/Other Info:

Ursa’s senses are still enhanced when she isn’t in bear form. It mimics Sensory Processing Disorder. Her mask helps with her sense of smell. For sight, she has glasses that block out the wavelengths that irritate her eyes the most. For hearing, she has hearing hampers. They work the opposite of hearing aids; instead of amplifying noises/pitches, they dampen them before sending the soundwaves into the ear.

After exerting a certain amount of energy while using her quirk, her body rapidly depletes its resources. The protein bars in her costume help while she’s on patrol. After intense fights, she needs much more than the snacks, often choosing chicken breast topped with fried eggs on any combination of rice, steak, vegetables, and cheeses (she refuses to eat any type of seafood or beans, hating the smell, taste, and texture in her mouth).

Although she tends to ignore this part, she goes through a sort of ‘heat’ like bears do. It starts around mid-May and lasts till early July. She spends more time inside during it.

Quirk Malfunction:

Shifting in and out of her bear form isn’t always a smooth process. Changing is typically easy as her body is reverting into its natural state; she just relaxes, let’s go, and it happened. It’s quick, and she hardly has to try. Sometimes, when she’s exhausted, injured, or otherwise overwhelmed, parts of her body may not revert properly.

Here’s an example from when she was eight (this is a condensed/slightly modified version of the explanation I gave in anxiety bear):

She couldn’t remember what was overwhelming. Something just hurt. She couldn’t move or do anything. So she started panicking. When she shifted back, her face felt horrible. It felt as if her skin was being stretched and her bones were warped. She screamed. Her dad came outside, wrapped a towel around her face, picked her up, and brought her to the hospital.

Her facial bones didn’t properly shift. In our maxilla, we have an infraorbital foramen which is the opening to the infraorbital canal. It transmits a nerve, vein, and artery. Bears also have this, but their anatomy is different. The important difference, in this case, is their maxilla and mandible length due to their muzzles. Human skulls are relatively flat in comparison.

When Ursa shifted, her maxilla remained long like a bear’s (about four inches). Her upper canines were still large and pointing outward. At the hospital, X-Rays showed her infraorbital canal was shoved forward. Because it was only her maxilla that malfunctioned, her nerves and arteries were stretched almost to the point of ripping as they were still fit for a human. She couldn’t talk or see and could hardly smell.

To fix it whenever this happens, she needs to be given Tizanidine. It’s a skeletomuscular relaxant with antispastic agents. It slows the brain and nervous system’s activity to let your muscles relax. Her body will eventually fix itself.

Kuma (reader’s brother in anxiety bear)

Hero Name: Cujo (From the Stephen King story. He prefers the film because of the more optimistic ending.)

Quirk: Arctotherium

Kuma’s quirk is very similar to his sister’s. He can transform into an Arctotherium angustidens. A secondary effect of his quirk is enhanced senses. However, they aren’t as enhanced as Ursa’s.

Height: He stands at 6’1ft on all fours and 14 feet on his hind legs

Weight: around 3,200 pounds

Hero Costume: Much like his sister, his costume is relaxed and comfortable clothing. He also has a mask to filter smells (but uses it less frequently than Ursa) and a pocket on his thigh for protein snacks.

Strengths:

Cujo shares many strengths and weaknesses with Ursa, mainly thick fur for protection, sharp teeth, and long claws. One difference is that he has more mass and weight to his advantage. It makes him a heavier hitter, able to cause more damage in less amount of time. And since his senses aren’t as sensitive, he doesn’t have to worry about becoming overwhelmed as much as Ursa does. These factors allow him to hit harder, last longer in fights, and take in more sensory input.

He’s willing to fight dirty and bloody to win (though some believe that to be a weakness) With his size, he’s able to sustain quite a bit of damage without it hindering him. A bullet to the side or a slash to his back would incapacitate an average human/someone of a smaller size. He’d barely feel the bullet, let alone have to worry about it.

Weaknesses:

The burden of Kuma’s weight takes a toll on his body. Bones undergoing shifting, sometimes grinding against one another, the sudden and intense weight changes, and stress on his muscles often lead to aches and pains. He’s gotten accustomed to it as he’s trained and grown-up. Some preventive measures are: taking pain medication before going on patrol, wearing compression sleeves under his costume, hot baths, and cold compresses.

Due to his size, he requires a higher amount of protein than his sister. And the longer a fight is combined with how much energy he exerts, the quicker his body exhausts. He’s built for dealing damage as hastily and as fiercely as possible. If a fight occurs while he’s on patrol, he’s done after the fight, needing a great deal of protein before his body gives, typically going for seafood and/or steak. If he doesn’t get the protein in time, he’ll faint, suffering from a sudden onset of severe protein deficiency, and need medical attention.

This doesn’t have to do with the fighting part of a Hero’s career, but he is not kid-friendly, often caught swearing on camera, shoving cameras and reporters out of his space, and sometimes picking fights with other Heroes and interviewers he doesn’t like. It makes his popularity suffer.

Quirk Side Effects/Other Info:

Kuma’s senses aren’t enhanced enough to be considered a weakness, but they do cause significant stress in his daily life, notably touch and feel. Textures, high temperatures, and others touching him are what irritates him the most. His reaction is less distress (like Ursa’s is) and more anger at the cause.

It’s not proven, but his quirk seems to affect his personality a bit. He’s very protective of his sister and very prepared to snap (with his mouth as a warning sign) at anyone who he doesn’t know and/or doesn’t like.

From mid-May till early July, Kuma also goes through a heat. Unlike his sister, who’s timid and resistant when it comes to socializing, he’s very brash, impulsive, and sometimes aggressive, going to bars throughout those months, choosing any man or woman piques his interest enough to go home with.

Quirk Malfunction:

Kuma also undergoes the same bodily malfunction as his sister. It happens to him more often due to the strain on his body and its need for large quantities of protein. The ladder is usually the reason for a malfunction (kind of like biological short-circuiting).

Picture of an Arctotherium for reference:

Link for photo: https://www.theguardian.com/science/gallery/2018/jun/11/when-size-does-matter-big-beasts-last-of-the-giants-in-pictures

[baereaved]

Rogue Interview

hey lads! this interview was ripped directly from “the world of cyberpunk 2077″, the book. has a lot of great content in it and i wanted to share this.

Interviewer: Hi, Rogue. It's a real honor to meet you in person. Twenty-four hours ago I'd never have thought I'd be talking with you in old-school, face-to-face style.

Rogue: Hi... Josh, yes? I have to admit that you showed guts when you asked for that interview. I'm almost impressed, and I'm curious about how it'll come out. To be honest, if not for some... decisions I've made recently, I wouldn't have agreed to it. I have little time for journalists in my line of work. I guess it's your lucky day.

Interviewer: Thanks all the more for your time.

Rogue: Cut to the chase. You mentioned that you want to talk about my cyberpunk past. Why?

Interviewer: We're making material about the comeback of the cyberpunk style, so we thought it would be awesome if we could talk with you about that—how it was fifty years ago, what it was like being a cyberpunk back then, and how it's different from being one now.

Rogue: You've been using the word "cyberpunk" quite a lot, but you must be aware that almost no one uses that term these days, right? Even back then "merc" or "edgerunner" were more popular terms—but okay, let's talk about "being a cyberpunk". Your move, stringer.

Interviewer: Still, you're one of the icons of the cyberpunk era. That's a fact.

Rogue: Cyberpunk is a term from a different time. It's an out-of-date description of a street rebel who's fighting with some omnipotent, oppressive system. Even if I'd had such sympathies back then, I have to disappoint you. I'm not a "cyberpunk" anymore, if I ever was one.

Interviewer: But you were a cyberpunk fifty years ago, right? What was it like to be one back then in 2020?

Rogue: The same as it is to be someone on the street today. It was about your attitude, your personal style, and living your life on the edge. You had to be the coolest-looking, most dangerous guy on the street. You had to have the newest, most advanced cyberware and weapons, and you had to always look like you were ready to use them. It may sound like a cliché, but those were the basics of street reputation. Attitude was everything. It still is. If you think like a whiny asshole, you are a whiny asshole. If you think dangerous, you are dangerous. Simple laws of the street.

Interviewer: And "style over substance"?

Rogue: A catchphrase that was pushed a lot around 2020, at the height of new style. It was named "kitsch", and it was quickly adopted by cyberpunks and all other sorts of rebels. It was the street philosophy that your unique look and personal style should be your trademark. To put it simply, it doesn't matter how good you are at doing something as long as you look awesome doing it. It didn't matter if you had a cyberarm covered with expensive RealSkinn. It was your new chrome cyberarm that made you stand out from the crowd. If you can take out an entire Arasaka strike team all by yourself, you're really good—but doing it armed with a custom-made pistol while only wearing a leather armor jacket, acid-washed jeans, and mirror shades? That was something that earned you a reputation.

Interviewer: How do you feel about the return of the cyberpunk style?

Rogue: Those pink mohawks and synth-leather clothes the kids are wearing nowadays... It's mostly just imitation. Sure, back then it was about rebelling, but rebelling with a cause. It was about standing up against a corporate-dictated order, about defying authority and playing it out with style. To live on the edge, with a capital E. You wanted to be where the action was—to be the action. To do something big and never play it too safe. Youngsters today lack the vision and guts to do really big things.

Interviewer: Like the attack on the Arasaka Towers in 2023? Is it true that you were part of it?

Rogue: [brief pause] Nice try, kiddo. You're not the first newshound to ask me that question, and you won't be the first to get an answer. [laughs]

Interviewer: Sorry, I had to try. So, to rephrase the old slogan, you think that the "real" cyberpunk is dead?

Rogue: The rebel part of it? I think so, yes. Back then in 2020 it was a global movement aimed against megacorporations, but megacorporations have lost a lot of their power in the past fifty years—except for in the free cities like Night City, of course. On second thought, if cyberpunk has a chance to reconnect to its roots, it would be in a place like Night City. Maybe there's hope for second-wave cyberpunks after all.

Interviewer: So, what would be your advice for all those people aspiring to be a cyberpunk?

Rogue: Grow a spine; stop waiting for opportunity and go looking for it.

Interviewer: Touché. Speaking of opportunity, I'd like to ask you a few quick questions about your personal experience as a cyberpunk—or edgerunner, if you prefer that term.

Rogue: We can stay with cyberpunk. It suits you. And I think we have a few minutes left. Hit it.

Interviewer: So, a cyberpunk's gun: a trademark or a tool?

Rogue: It's a matter of personal taste and philosophy. Yes, the weapon can be your trademark. In this business you'll develop personal preferences, so in time you should get the gun that fits you. I have customized pistols myself based on the Tsunami Nue. We went through a lot together. On the other hand, if you want to be a top-tier merc, you have to be as effective with your favorite toy as you are without it. Again, "style over substance". You look cool when you're wasting some boostergang guys with your custom-made Malorian Arms pistol, but wasting them using any weapon that happens to be around is a style in itself. Nowadays, when everyone relies on their favorite guns, improvisation is a forgotten art.

Interviewer: How much does one need to modify themselves to be in the top tier?

Rogue: That's something that everyone needs to determine for themselves, but for me quality is key. No one will hire you for a serious job if you lack proper modifications, and to be a step ahead you need the best cyberimplants you can get. To be a cyberpunk is to chase all the newest enhancements—be they cyber or bioengineered—to get the edge over your enemies and your peers. The choice of enhancements is only limited by your contacts on the street and the size of your wallet, but it should fit your personal taste. Juggernaut, ninja, or ghost approach—it doesn't matter, as long as you're efficient with it and get the job done. But if you can't plan, and you can't execute a job properly, no amount of cyberware will help you get to the top tier.

Interviewer: How much does one need to sell out to the corpos to get to the top tier?

Rogue: [longer pause] Dealing with the corporations has always been akin to bargaining with the devil... Most cyberpunks and edgerunners won't even be aware that they've taken a job from a fixer who's under corporate contract. Those jobs could be anything at all that the corpos want to avoid a direct connection with—like planting a bug, or stealing some data, or assassinating a seemingly unassuming guy, or organizing a heist on an armed convoy. If you're good enough, they'll contact you again via fixer to hire you for more lucrative assignments. That's the tricky part. The money is really good and they can grant you access to really top-notch, restricted cyberware, but if you go for it... they own you. Moreover, if you learn too many corporate secrets, you're in for life—and that could be a very short time if someone in the corporation decides that their list of freelancers needs to be purged for "security reasons".

Interviewer: Do you need friends in this kind of business?

Rogue: Sure. It's good to have someone to cover your back during a firefight, but never go on an assignment with someone that you don't trust, unless the stakes are worth it—or you're ready to take them out if you have to. Even if you trust someone, you have to keep in mind that every partnership ends sooner or later, one way or another. They get killed, go cyberpsychotic, or maybe you just go different ways. True camaraderie is a rare thing in this kind of work. Too many strong personalities and divergent goals. Too much rivalry. Friendship... has its price. It can be a burden. Doing pals favors for old times' sake can lead to messy situations.

Interviewer: Sounds like you know something about it.

Rogue: You can bet on that.

Interviewer: Do you have someone specific in mind?

Rogue: No comment.

Interviewer: Why did you become a fixer?

Rogue: It was kind of a natural transition for me. It's like becoming a coach after ending your career as a ball player. You don't have to compete with younger and more aggressive contenders, and you can still use your expertise and your reputation to make money and stay in touch with the mercenary community. 

Interviewer: There were some rumors that your shifting sectors had something to do with you disassembling the Atlantis Group. Can you confirm or deny that?

Rogue: Old story, mostly untrue. It seems to me that some of the guys from Atlantis Bar couldn't bear that times had changed and I had to move on. We all had to. You can't rebel all your life. Yes, I had access to some juicy contracts, and I was willing to share them with some of my friends from the Atlantis Group mercenary branch. Yes, some of us made good money on them, and a few guys decided to retire. If that means I "disassembled" a group of ex-rebels, then I'm guilty as charged.

Interviewer: And finally: do you miss your mercenary days?

Rogue: Sometimes I miss the action, and the thrill of a good challenge. But I am damn good at what I do now, so I regret nothing.

Interviewer: And that's an excellent wrap-up. Thanks for the interview, Rogue.

Rogue: Thanks, Josh. Despite my initial doubts, that was quite an... interesting conversation. Be sure to publish this as it is. Or I'll find out where you live. [laughs]