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honeysunai · 1 year ago

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Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part nine - Test of courage

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

Word Count : 4k

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

You let out a long and bored sigh as you look at a blank paper in front of you. Tamaki assigned you to write ideas for the Halloween event the Host Club wants to host, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and how eager Kyoya was and then returned to pretending you were just classmates. You were angry and yet… You only wanted him to kiss you all over again.

It was infuriating. No. He was.

“What about a cult of vampires thirsty for the blood of their guests.” Tamaki explodes as if he found the best idea of all time. Ew. Blood, no thanks.

“This sounds too erotic even for us.” You chuckle.

“Well, you haven’t written anything on that paper so I’m giving you some ideas to make that brain of yours work.” He chuckles while patting the top of your hair.

The door busted open with the twins and Haruhi glued to their side. Kaoru spoke up first. “For the entire week, count us out.”

The mortifying expression on Tamaki’s face made you hold back a laugh. “What do you mean “us”? Why is Haruhi going with you?”

“We have a tournament on Halloween night, a test of courage.” She mumbles as if she thought it was the dumbest idea, it might as well be.

“And she is on our team.” Hikaru snickers. “She is in our class, afterall.” They both dramatically turn around and leave.

“Does this mean we cancel our event?” You ask quite eagerly for Tamaki’s response.

“This means we are going to participate in their little tournament.” His gaze never leaves the trio of second years. You grunt loudly.

Tamaki’s genius plan was in preparation while you sat on a bench drinking tea with Mori. Your leg was bouncing rapidly out of anxiety.

“You seem tense.” Kyoya said, his eyes still focused on his computer screen. “I can smell the tension steaming.”

“Ew.” You scoff. “I'm not tense," you retorted.

“What's bothering you then? Are you scared?" Tamaki chuckled.

“No, I just don't see the point in scaring people," you mumbled.

Honey took a seat beside you and flashed a bright smile. “It's not just about that. You have a lot of candies too!"

“That's a valid point," you conceded. "While you two brilliant minds work on your plan, I'll make my exit. I've got some personal matters to attend to."

“Why's that?" Kyoya asked abruptly, turning his gaze towards you.

“It's not something you need to worry about," you replied with a quick smile before making your way out of the music room. In truth, you weren't busy at all; all your studies and homework were already completed. You simply wished to avoid the Halloween preparations. As you strolled through the school, you sought out an empty music room where you could indulge in a bit of cello before the next class.

After leaving the music room, you headed down the corridor in search of an empty space to practice your cello. As you walked, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of excited chatter from various students discussing the Halloween preparations. It seemed that the Host Club's Halloween event was generating quite a buzz.

Finally, you found an empty and peaceful practice room. You entered and set up your cello, finding comfort in the familiar strains of the instrument. As you began to play, the hauntingly beautiful melody filled the room, creating a serene atmosphere that provided a stark contrast to the bustling excitement of Halloween preparations.

Unbeknownst to you, a familiar figure from the Host Club had been silently trailing you. Haruhi, who had been observing your interactions with the other members, had sensed your need for a break from the chaotic festivities. She had followed you discreetly, understanding that you preferred solitude.

Leaning against the doorframe, Haruhi listened to your enchanting music. The sound of the cello captivated her, and she was moved by the depth of emotion in your playing. She watched you with a soft smile, appreciating the chance to see a different side of you.

When you eventually finished your piece, you turned to find Haruhi standing there, a gentle and understanding look in her eyes. She didn't say anything, but her presence was enough to convey her support and empathy.

“Be ready, Tamaki is taking part in your Tournament.”

She smiles. “This means you will as well?”

“Obviously.” You snort.

With that, the two of you spent a little more time chatting, and finding common ground amidst the chaos of the Host Club's Halloween preparations. It was a welcome and unexpected connection that brought a sense of calm to an otherwise hectic day.

On Halloween night

You entered the ball room and noticed the dark ambiance. In the middle you could see makeup and costumes ready to be worn.

You sigh. “Did you really ask the occult club to help us?”

“They are professionals afterall.” Tamaki says proudly. “Who else but the Occult Club to know what is scary or not?” He had a fair point.

You were grabbed by two girls and forced to sit down on a chair. You couldn’t protest before their work started. They Had their makeup brushes ready with pink and white paint. “It’s too late to say no, right?” You ask anyone before the first stroke of white paint touches your skin. At the same time the other girl worked over your hair. Two pigtails wrapped in red ribbons. It felt like forever until you could see yourself in the mirror. You were going to be a creepy little creepy lolitta doll.

“Good god.” You scoff as you look at yourself with your regular uniform, you look silly.

“Do you not like it?” Nekozawa asked in a grim tone. To be fair, you were a bit freaked out by him and so you lied.

“I love it. I’m just not used to it.” You smile as best as you can, but you look creepy nonetheless.

“Good!” He smiles. Even if he was happy, his smile was creepy. “We got the perfect costume to fit with your marvelous character. “The cursed doll!” It was like thunder cracked at the same time he spoke those very words.

You looked in the mirror and couldn't help but feel that you appeared terrifying – and not in a good way. The worn-out pink and white puffy dress you wore was splattered with fake blood in a chaotic pattern. You imagined your mother would have a heart attack if she saw you in this outfit.

Emerging from the dressing room, you joined your Host Club friends in the ballroom. Tamaki, in his dashing vampire costume, looked unfairly handsome. Mori and Honey, dressed as a pair of werewolves straight out of a telenovela, exuded a certain charm. Kyoya, on the other hand, had chosen not to dress up.

With a stoic expression, you couldn't help but voice your frustration. "I hate you guys."

"Don't you look terrifying?" Kyoya quipped with a barely suppressed laugh.

You glared at him. "And don't you guys look cute?"

"Do you think so?" Honey's smile was radiant.

"Why am I the only one overdressed?" You grumbled.

Tamaki, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, smiled as he explained, "You are the dessert to our coup."

"I don't think that's a saying," you retorted. He led you out of the ballroom and into a classroom tucked away in the far corner of the school.

"Stay here until Honey gives you the signal. Here's your script," Tamaki said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper before closing the door, leaving you alone in the dark room.

"Ugh, I hate them," you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes and reading the poorly written script. It lacked any real scare factor. Your best bet was to simply scream at anyone who entered the room or adopt a lifeless stare to unnerve them.

As you sat in the dark room, dressed in your creepy Lolita costume, time seemed to crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace. The initial excitement of transforming into a terrifying character had given way to boredom and restlessness. Your once-eager anticipation for your role had faded into a growing sense of impatience.

You began to fidget in your chair, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the occasional distant laughter and muffled voices from the Halloween event outside. The worn-out pink and white dress seemed to constrict your movements, making you acutely aware of how uncomfortable and itchy it had become.

You sighed deeply, shifting your weight from side to side, trying to ease the discomfort of your costume. Your thoughts wandered, and you began to wonder if you were somehow forgotten or if the Host Club's plan had encountered an unexpected delay. The desire for some action or interaction had grown stronger with each passing minute.

Impulsively, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, checking the time. It had been far longer than you'd expected, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exasperation. To alleviate your boredom, you began scrolling through your phone, reading messages, and checking social media, all while anxiously waiting for Honey's signal to finally break the monotony of your solitary confinement.

The door creaked open and you looked at who it was not bothering to hide back your phone.

“This is really not your shade.” Kyoya snickers as he enters the room.

“Laugh all you want.” You sigh. He looked at you as if to say “Oh, I am.”, “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping you from dying of boredom.” He took a seat next to you on the floor.

“My phone was already doing your job.” You chuckle lightly.

“You really don’t like Halloween, don’t you?”

"Not really, no," you began, reflecting on your past. "When I was a kid, my parents were so busy with their own lives and jobs that they never had time for Halloween, or even Christmas some years. By the time they started to be more present, I just didn't care that much anymore about the holidays."

Kyoya sighed deeply, and you could see his thoughtful expression as he absorbed the glimpse of your personal history.

As the seconds ticked by, you found yourself pondering why you had shared such a personal memory with Kyoya. It wasn't something you typically opened up about, especially not in the midst of a festive occasion like Halloween. Perhaps it was the quiet and the stillness of the room that had encouraged the spontaneous revelation. Or maybe it was Kyoya's ability to make you feel strangely comfortable discussing your past. Regardless of the reason, you couldn't help but wonder why you had chosen to reveal a part of yourself at that moment.

“Then let’s go.” He said as he grabbed your hand to help you out of your creepy chair.

“Where?”

“I’m going to show you what’s so fun about it.”

Kyoya led you out of the dimly lit room and into the corridor, your hand still in his firm grip. You followed him through the maze-like hallways of the school, unsure of what to expect.

As you moved stealthily through the school, you couldn't help but have reservations about this endeavor. The idea of scaring people had never really appealed to you, and you had doubts about whether it would be as fun as the others made it out to be. But you trusted Kyoya's judgment, and his air of confidence piqued your curiosity.

The two of you took positions in a dimly lit hallway, concealed behind a corner, waiting for your next victim. Your heart raced as you watched a student approaching, completely unaware of your presence.

In perfect coordination, you and Kyoya executed your plan. As the student drew nearer, you let out a spine-chilling, ghostly wail while Kyoya produced an eerie, spectral light using a concealed flashlight. The student, taken aback and startled, screamed in terror before realizing it was all a prank.

At first, you watched with mixed emotions, uncertain of how the student would react. But as the initial shock and fear gave way to laughter and amusement, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and satisfaction. Giggling uncontrollably, you and Kyoya shared in the joy of the moment.

You and Kyoya ventured further into the school, your Lolita doll costume taking on a new persona with each scare. The initial uncertainty you had felt had given way to a sense of exhilaration and a growing enthusiasm for the Halloween shenanigans.

As you reached a more crowded area of the school, you couldn't resist the temptation to continue your mischief. You spotted a group of students engrossed in conversation and laughter, unaware of your presence. Kyoya nodded at you, signaling that this was your next target.

You approached the group with a silent grace, the ruffled layers of your dress swaying as you moved. As you got closer, you unleashed a spine-tingling, ghostly whisper that seemed to echo through the corridor. Simultaneously, Kyoya, hidden in the shadows, conjured a ghostly blue glow that danced eerily around you.

The students, caught off guard by the sudden otherworldly presence, let out a collective gasp and huddled together in fear. A few of them even dropped their belongings in their fright.

You couldn't help but stifle a giggle as you watched their terrified reactions. Some clutched their hearts, while others playfully scolded each other for overreacting. The initial shock gave way to laughter, and you realized that this was the essence of Halloween – a blend of fear and fun.

One of the students, a young girl, turned to you with a mixture of relief and amusement. "That was a good one! You really got us."

You gave a mischievous curtsy, your creepy Lolita persona adding to the theatrics of the moment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

As you and Kyoya roamed the dimly lit corridors, you noticed a locked door at the end of a long hallway, illuminated only by the faint light of a flickering overhead bulb. It seemed like the perfect setting for a dramatic and hair-raising Halloween scare.

With a shared nod, you and Kyoya decided to orchestrate a chilling performance. You took your position near the door, hidden in the shadows, your Lolita doll costume transformed into a ghostly and eerie presence.

Kyoya, meanwhile, prepared to unleash his talents. With a quick flourish of his hand, he projected a series of ghostly images on the door, each one more terrifying than the last. The ghostly apparitions danced and flickered, accompanied by spine-tingling whispers that filled the air.

Unsuspecting students rounded the corner and came into view, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. As they approached the locked door, they spotted the ghostly figures and heard the haunting whispers. Panic washed over them, and they let out a chorus of terrified screams.

In their panic, the students stumbled over each other, desperately searching for an escape route. Some of them turned and ran back the way they came, while others frantically pounded on the locked door, pleading for it to open. The once-crowded hallway turned into a scene of chaotic terror.

You and Kyoya couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline as the students fled in sheer panic, their fear evident in their eyes. It was the ultimate Halloween scare, and you had succeeded beyond your wildest expectations.

As the commotion gradually subsided and the corridor returned to a state of calm, you exchanged an exhilarated glance with Kyoya. The dramatic scare had left a lasting impression, and you both couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

You finally got what made this activity so enjoyable, and you couldn't help but share a knowing smile with Kyoya as you continued to haunt the hallways together.

As your Halloween night of spooking students continued, Kyoya approached you with an excited glint in his eyes. "How about a grand finale?" he suggested, a mischievous smile on his face. Curious and eager to embrace the festive spirit, you nodded in agreement. "What do you have in mind?" Kyoya explained his plan, which involved a grand scare that would target none other than the notorious twins with Haruhi. It was an enticing proposition, and you both set off to make it happen.

You ran around the school to find the trio and once you did they were walking to their next trap, you.

You began to move in a slow, puppet-like manner, as if controlled by unseen strings, your joints bending unnaturally, your movements otherworldly. You swayed with an eerie grace, creating an atmosphere of surreal horror.

At the same time, Kyoya cast an illusion of ghostly whispers and phantom shadows that danced around you. The effect was haunting and mesmerizing, and the corridor seemed to take on a life of its own.

The twins and Haruhi watched, transfixed by the chilling performance. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged uneasy glances, and Haruhi clutched her heart in mock fear.

As the performance reached its climax, you let out another spine-chilling wail, your voice echoing through the corridor. The twins were quite uneasy with you as for Haruhi, she held back a laugh to not mess up your performance. They weren’t moving until you stopped abruptly before sprinting for them, making them run away from you leaving Haruhi alone with you.

“Too bad I wasn’t convincing enough to scare you.” You laugh with Haruhi.

“I do not scare easily.” She says drying her tears of laughter. Kyoya came out of hiding and applauded you.

“I didn’t think you’d enjoy yourself that much.” He smiles brightly. A first.

“All thanks to the brains behind the operation.” You applauded him as well.

Later that night as you were taking out your makeup with Renge and Haruhi’s help, the winners were announced by Nekozawa. You were declared the champion of the Tournament!

Gasps of astonishment filled the room as the Host Club members realized the outcome. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged surprised glances.

"You weren't even participating!" Kaoru exclaimed.

You smirked, "You guys are just sore losers."

Hikaru chimed in, "You're not even a second-year!"

Kyoya, however, simply leaned against a wall with a wry smile. "All I hear is whining from two losers."

You couldn't help but giggle at the banter among your friends, sharing a victorious moment.

After finally shedding the uncomfortable Lolita costume and wiping away the last remnants of makeup, you found yourself alone in the cozy embrace of the music room. The echoes of the Halloween festivities still resonate in your mind, but the overwhelming discomfort of the costume had been left far behind.

Sitting in the dimly lit room, you reflected on the night, your thoughts filled with gratitude for Kyoya. His unexpected and thrilling proposal to embrace the Halloween spirit had transformed a dull evening into a genuinely enjoyable one. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered how he had dragged you into the world of scares and pranks, and in doing so, had shared a unique and memorable experience with you.

The Halloween night had been a perfect blend of fright and fun, of camaraderie and laughter, and it was all thanks to Kyoya's initiative. As you sat in the peaceful music room, you realized that sometimes, the most unexpected and unconventional plans could lead to the best and most cherished memories.

"All hail the champion," a voice echoed in the empty room, and there stood Kyoya, the unexpected partner in your Halloween scare victory.

You couldn't resist a teasing grin. "Only a bow and some praise will do for your champion."

He walked over, the atmosphere filled with a mix of playful competition and genuine camaraderie. His smile was cocky as he leaned against the side of the column.

"So, do I get a prize for helping you win?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a playful challenge.

You responded with a smug grin, "It's my name they announced, not yours, so I'm afraid you don't get anything."

Kyoya leaned in closer, his smile seeming somewhat wistful. "I did help you win, though. I should get something."

With a soft laugh, you placed a hand on his arm and said, "You get the honor of witnessing your fiancé's majestic victory."

The two of you shared a moment of contentment and affection, the playful banter masking the fondness you felt for each other. It was a celebration of your Halloween success and the unique bond you shared.

“I want something else as my prize.” He smirks.

He acted on his impulses, seizing you by the waist and pressing you firmly against the column. His lips met yours with a passionate intensity, a bruising kiss that left you breathless, and you gasped in surprise at the sudden, fervent connection.

His tongue tantalizing teased your bottom lip, seeking entry, and you willingly granted it. Your heads tilted in unison, and one of his hands found its way to the back of your neck, gently bending it to deepen the kiss. A throaty moan escaped your lips as his other hand on your hip squeezed you possessively.

For a brief moment, he pulled back, his breath hot against your skin, and he whispered with a mixture of desire and frustration, "You always manage to pick the worst timing to drive me so, so eager for you."

His lips trailed a scorching path down your cheek, following the delicate curve of your jawline. Each touch was an electric shock of sensation, sending shivers down your spine as the world around you seemed to blur, consumed by the fervent desire shared in this stolen moment.

“Don’t I?” You chuckled briefly. “It just means I’m winning.”

“How so?” He asks not to bother to stop his lips from connecting to your skin.

“You want to hear my master plan?”

“Do enlighten me.” His soft laugh lights a fire inside your stomach.

“The more you resist me, the more you want me… Have you noticed how close we’ve become in the last few days?” He stops himself in his tracks to look at you in the eyes with intrigue. “I am winning.”

“Must everything be a competition between the two of us?”

“To get what we both deeply want, it is not an option.”

“And what is it I want?” He smirks as if he could read you all too well.

“You don’t want to marry me for love and some other reason you refuse to talk about and I don’t want to get married at all, but duty is duty. But you do want me, which makes things complicated for us.” You breathe heavily when his teeth graze the skin of your neck. “So let’s meet in the middle. We can either keep denying each other’s needs and go our separate ways to college hoping to find better matches for us so we both marry for love, duty and what not, or we can give in and have our fun until college and then we find better matches. So you don’t have to marry me and you’ll be out of my hair. Two simple choices, one clearly more fun than the other, but riskier.”

He chuckles when he faces you again. “How so?”

“You’ll fall in love.” No, you would.

“With you?” He chuckles. “You’re pretty to look at, sure, but you get on my nerves too much for me to fall in love.”

“I gave you our options, it’s your choice. In a way I am not replacing you like you asked.” He crashed his lips to yours, his very own way to seal their deal.

“I won’t lose to you, y/n.” He whispered before his lips met yours once more.

“Neither will I.” You moan against his lips before you were picked up and carried on one of the pink velvet couches. He pried your pants off gently as his lips were still glued to yours. It was happening… You’d finally have Kyoya the way you wanted him ever since last time he kissed you.

He moved between your thighs and took his sweet time to kiss and nimble on both of them.

“You always assume I have better self control than I actually do.” He whispers before taking your underwear off. “I’m no better than any other man when it comes to you.” He smirks before dipping his head between your thighs. You huffed out a loud moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit.

He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times. You felt like you were in a dream, Kyoya pleasing you as a reward for your victory... or for his own pleasure. It didn't matter, he had accepted your deal and you were more than happy to give in to the tension between the two of you.

You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Kyoya—” You came with a moan of his name, your hips stuttering against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.

After a long moment, Kyoya hovered over you. You smiled hazily at him. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his cheek, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers. He pulled back briefly. “I won’t lose to you.” He repeated like it was an oath and you believed him for a split second.

— 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬

✧ @gay-noble @vanicogh @hopeless-romanticnamed-s @idktbhloley @p1nkliquor @hellokittykuroo @batboob @kisskissshutmydoor @lemonrolls @hoku-killer @sunukissed @jessiegerl @lunalily19 @i7zha @asrainterstellar @arimoony24 @simp-lythebest @fan-g0rl @randobeetlehouse @glomp-me @yeeyeebabe @maackiimoo @kaelysian @noendingtolove @luminaaz @thewendyslogo @eri0-0 @arielbillyboy16 @aangsupremacy @yuriklol @lillunna @lostsomewhereinthegarden @chocorenchin @sukcama @bratb1tch @topmeyelena

#anime #arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #kyoya #kyoya fluff #ouran au #ouran academy #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #ouran tamaki #kyoya smut #ohshc kyoya #kyoya x reader #hostess fanfic #honeysunai masterlist

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uniquevoidflowers · 1 year ago

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random lu incorrect quotes based off of a generator cuz im bored

Twilight: Hey, do you know the password to Legend's computer? Wild: Fuck you, Twilight. Twilight: Hey!! Wild: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouTwilight". Twilight: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Legend: When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Legend lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the person who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!

Wild: Hey, you wanna know a secret? Legend: No. Wild: Okay. Legend: Legend: Do you smell smoke? Wild: The secret is that the house is on fire.

---

Legend: I hate you sometimes. Warriors: Well according to this picture Sky drew of us holding hands that's not true. Legend: Wars, you drew that. Warriors: It doesn't matter.

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Legend: *shatters a window and climbs through it* Legend: *turns around and helps Hyrule through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Hyrule. Hyrule: Okay.

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Wind: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth. Time: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

---

*The chain's reaction to being told they're the chosen one* Hyrule: I will not let you down. Warriors: Sounds fun. Wind: K. Legend: No, I'm fucking not. Wild: Do I have to be? Time: Please god, I am so tired.

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Legend: How does one turn their emotions off? Hyrule: Okay, so first go to settings. Hyrule: I'm a fucking idiot, I thought that said emojis at first. Legend: No, I'm still willing to try this, go ahead. I'm at settings, what do I do next?

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Hyrule: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Sky and not do the thing, Hyrule: Well there’s a clear right answer here. Hyrule: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

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Legend: You are a solid 11/10. Warriors: Aw, thank- Legend: Which is 1.1 because you look like shit.

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Legend: What is the one thing I told you not to do? Hyrule: Burn the house down. Legend: And what did you do? Hyrule: I made dinner. Legend: Hyrule: Legend: Hyrule: And burnt the house down.

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Time: .. .----. -- / … --- .-. .-. -.-- (translation: I'M SORRY) Legend: What's that? Time: Remorse code. Legend: I'm even angrier now.

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Hyrule, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? Wild: *grabs and chugs the entire bottle* Wild: Wild: It's perfume.

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Malon: We're having a baby. Twilight: Oh, congradu- Time, slamming adoption papers onto the table: It's you, sign here.

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Twilight: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?! Hyrule: It's kind of complicated, but Wild- Twilight: Got it. Forget I asked.

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Twilight: Made you all playlists! Twilight: Legend, yours has only heavy metal, and is dark like your soul. Twilight: Sky, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression. Twilight: And Warriors has the ABBA Gold album.

---

Legend: Do you want to be the Sun in my life? Ravio: Yes. Legend: Good, then stay 92,935,700 miles away from me :)

Generator:

#unique talks #lu legend #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu wind #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu time #lu malon #lu ravio #lu sky #lu incorrect quotes

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susidestroyerofworlds · 2 months ago

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what’s your favorite number

this is a really hard question. Its probably 2, since it makes for an amazing base and is just generally very useful, like, when you have a+a, which is common, that turns into 2a. It's also the successor to 1, making it the first number thats not just defined directly by axioms like 0 and 1 and rather a consequence.

2 is also aesthetically fun, the way it swoops at the top and then sits on a sturdy base, with both a round and a sharp corner. So, that's my answer,

But! If we go further we can find lots of other numbers I also love. 6 is a really nice number because its small but not "weird" in any immediate way. It's not an identity, it's not prime, it's not a square, etc. If you have a formula or something and you want to check it with a number 6 usually works without running into common edge cases.

Leaving the Naturals, -1 is an amazing integer. Really useful for anything that alternates, I love the roots of unity and it's the first nontrivial of those. All the roots of unity are pretty amazing tho, highly recommend.

Rising further we get to the Rationals, which are honestly kinda boring imo. Shoutout to ½ for being the reciprocal of 2 but that's it.

Now, shit is gonna get Real. The Reals are an amazing set, lots of useful properties, a really cool field (the Rationals are also a field but they suck so the Reals get to be the cool field). The Reals contain just about every number you normally interact with, including all-time highs such as pi or e. All algebraic and transcendental numbers are in here, including my favourite, sqrt(2). The square root of 2 is real cool. It's fun geometrically, being a factor of the length of the hypotenuse of a right triangle where the legs are the same length. It's cool algebraically as being the easiest to introduce number thats real but not rational, I have fond childhood memories of learning that the Reals are Dedekind complete (of course that word was only introduced in high school) with this beautiful number as the example. It's reciprocal is also really cool and useful. sqrt(2) even has its own Wikipedia article.

Leaving behind the Reals, the Complex Numbers are just fun as a category. No longer ordered, basically acting as if R² was a field, just really fun. I don't really have a favourite complex number but I am a sucker for units for i gets nominated as my favourite here. All complex numbers are really cool. Shoutout to |0> and |1> (ket-zero and ket-one) for being cool in quantum computing and being vectors in a space using the field of the complex numbers.

There is lots more sets but I am not familiar enough with numbers to even come close to doing them justice. I hope your questions is answered, have a nice day <3

#math #asks #rambling about my special interests #i love math #numbers arent actually my favourite part but they are just very fundamental #sorry to my number theory mutuals but category theory has my heart #<3

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abbysimsfun · 3 months ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 25 (Unexpected Death Cull but then a Baby, Finally!)

The town of Henford was rocked by a seniors’ river cruise disaster which killed Spencer’s grandparents Dennis and Vivian Lewis-Kim, as well as Ian and Derek Moody-McMillan, who were old friends of the Nesbitts and grandfathers to Nicola, Hazel’s bestie-turned-girlfriend.

The disaster brought Everett and Spencer home to visit her family. The Nesbitts sent condolences, grateful to have been spared greater grief as the town’s fledgling riverboat tourism industry took a nosedive. Spencer met her new niece and infant Greyson got to know his aunts on the Pancakes and Kim-Lewis sides of his family.

The visit made them miss home, and they began to talk about coming home to Henford for good. For now, however, life called them back to Oasis Springs after the funerals.

Daisy was still a PlantSim, which was concerning as the effects of the forbidden fruit had worn off much slower than she expected, and River’s wedding was just around the corner. Despite this, Daisy stayed close to Heather until delivery.

One evening, Heather tried to show her mother how to use accounting software for her floral business, but it wasn't going well and Heather was starting to get bored. She nonchalantly checked her phone. "You wrote a whole cookbook, Mom. You taught me how to do online research, but you can't figure out a few numbers?"

Daisy frowned. "I always let the telescope do my number-crunching for me. I really just loved gardening." She clicked something, and the program disappeared. "Oh, what now?"

"Let me." Heather leaned over her mother's shoulder. "You deleted it? How did you do that?"

Daisy shrugged in frustration. "I really don't know."

Heather opened her Recycle Bin to retrieve the deleted file when she noticed a strange folder. "VetConnect? Is this a clone? What?"

"What does that mean?"

"I...I think someone might have cloned my app files and given them to Petcare Inc."

"Who would do such a thing?"

"Other than you, no one's used my computer since...since Malcolm! I used to let him log in to send work emails. Oh my god! I could kill him!"

Daisy frowned. "Don't say that. Can you sue?"

"Against the Landgraabs? I don't even know if I could prove it was him," she said. "But I think I can fight fire with fire. My vet tech had the idea, and it took years to make the first one, but I'm going to have to work on a new app."

After a family dinner in Henford, Heather finally went into labour. Daisy went with her to the hospital, where her doctor was the on-call intern, Jamar Scott, her childhood neighbour.

(And the eldest son of Henford townies Simon and Sara Scott.)

"How's life in Brindleton Bay?"

"It's really great! I love being by the sea and I really feel like the clinic was my calling."

"I know what you mean. What you do for animals is what I love to do for sims."

"And how's Malia's freelance career?"

"She loves the flexibility, and I can't say I blame her. We're talking about starting a family of our own once my residency's done and I can work better hours."

Just before four in the morning, an exhausted Heather gave birth to a healthy baby boy she named Ash Neal Nesbitt. She debated the last name for months, but Malcolm hadn’t checked on her except when he needed a paternity test. And he stole her mobile app's code!

Since then he’d been no better than a ghost. If he wanted to miss out on his son's life, Heather was fine with it. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: To prevent them from randomly marrying other sims I made Dennis Kim and Vivian Lewis fall in love and marry years after their kids, Eric and Alice, married and started a family (they had three girls - Olivia, Spencer, and Lydia Kim-Lewis).

NOTE 2: I made OG grocer Kim Goldbloom the adopted daughter of Ian Moody and Derek McMillan because I wanted to make all the Henford NPCs playable at the start of the game. (I also paired up Michael Bell and Cecilia Kang despite their canon bad first date, married off Agnes and Agatha and moved them in with the Pancakes after making Agatha the mother of Bob, and put Lavina and Rahul in a home in the Bramblewood. She married Paolo Rocca and had two more kids, Rahul married Rashidah Watson after graduation and they moved to Brindleton Bay to start a family.

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brick-van-dyke · 11 months ago

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Some Thoughts on the 'Writing Process'™

So I see a lot of writers struggle with these very specific things, AKA:

The Staring at the Blank Page Thing where you struggle to come up with ideas, words, etc

The Word Counting Counting where you cannot stop counting your word count

The 'Can Someone ELSE Proofread This Because I Don't Want to Read It' dilemma

The 'How Do I STOP Hating Everything I Write' issue which also leads into the 'How Do I Stop Scrapping Everything' issue

And finally the 'I DONT WANT TO WRITE I WANT TO IMAGINE IT INSTEAD' problem

There are various things that can make writing hard, but I have had some thoughts! And maybe they might just be useful.

So for Issue Number 1, I've found that, if you want to write, NEVER do it before you already have the ideas. Looking at a blank page just makes it harder. You get bored and that makes writing feel boring. Of course, this is all just my opinion, maybe this actually works for you. BUT! In my own personal experience, I find that actually LIMITING how often I open my document helps a bunch. No matter how much you wanna write, there's no point torturing yourself over how little you're doing and shaming or pressuring yourself to get it done. Punishing yourself is just gonna kill your inspiration and, obviously, you're not going to want to write if you now associate it with punishment for not writing. It's a cycle of just being mean to yourself. Well, don't wanna be unproductive? As silly and counterproductive as it sounds; self care is the answer which I've found that actually works.

This actually leads into Issue Number 2. I think these probably stem from the same issue; punishing yourself for not producing. Again, punishing yourself and shaming yourself into just staring at a blank screen or staring at how little the word count is or how much you have to go until your goal is just going to kill your inspiration and make you bored. Shaming doesn't get you to write more, or faster or suddenly become more productive. Believe it or not? Self care and making it fun is what makes a fun story come to life. You're not just writing a block of text that's a recount to sell in this capitalist hellhole (I mean you are but that doesn't mean the process has to be bound by capitalism because FUCK CAPITALISM), you're writing a story you wanna tell; focus on the story before the method and don't punish yourself for it not just magically appearing. These things take time, they take trial, error, mistakes and various drafts, but FIRST? They take those little moments where you just daydream scenes and the imagination you have to exist at all. Focus first on the story and your own health and the rest will come, slowly but surely. Anyway that was a lot of words to essentially just say; don't look at the word count, focus on the story and the length will follow regardless. It's fine to check and obviously, you'll just have to at some point. But please please try and do what you can to avoid checking, even use a different method. I use page count because it's so varied and inaccurate that it actually doesn't matter and just tricks my brain into using that to see my very general progress and makes it seem bigger than it actually is. It also can just be easier to check at a glance if I want to make sure the structure of each chapter is more or less consistent enough.

Issue Number 3 is tricky, mostly because once you've made something, it can be legitimately very boring to reread everything you JUST wrote. For me, I'm sort of chaotic in that I reread as I go or do it very randomly and rewrite as I come up with things. The good thing is though that what you write isn't set in stone. It's malleable and fluid. I always have a cut and paste section on my computer where I just... cut and page and rearrange things as I think of it. I don't worry about "oh but what if I mess up" because you're ALWAYS gonna mess up! That's actually one of the cool things about writing, you CAN mess up and go back and reread it eventually to make it work a bit better after all the other chaotic going-back-and-fixing-things. Which brings me to my main point (especially if you don't want to replicate my chaoticness) I try to leave proofreading itself as much as I can for the end of it all. As in, I just let myself write, yes rearranging and going back whenever I want, but never throwing anything OUT, never scrapping the whole document because it's gonna have bits you might reuse. And more to the point, it gives you a lose skeleton to base your next draft on. It's more work but I find it really reassuring in that you don't judge every little thing as you go, but just say "meh, fuck it!" and write whatever works, then rewrite it in a separate document all over again, never deleting the last one so you can copy and page whatever you liked from the first draft, or second, or third, and use each mistake and flaw. Recycling is good folks, even just in writing. Or... at least it is for me. If this doesn't work for you, it doesn't work for you, but this is just what helps me so maybe it might help you too.

This also goes into Issue Number 4. Honestly, you're never gonna not be your biggest critic. But! You can at least make your work feel a bit more positive and go in with a "eh who cares?" mindset into writing. It may not erase the "wow this is hot garbage" feeling, but it'll feel a bit more like "well this is MY hot garbage and I don't care if it's bad or good, because at least it was fun". Plus, like I said; recycling is very good. The best way to force yourself not to hate something is to get really damn used to it, AKA, never getting rid of it. Which is hard, I know. Especially if you just really freaking hate it. And, well, it's not like I'm saying you should keep absolutely every little thing, I don't want you all to get clutter and folders upon folders of stuff you won't use...buuut I am saying it helps to keep things and get comfortable in your own messiness and imperfection. It starts to feel normal at least, or for me it does, and slowly you kind of just...accept it. Also, making fun little things to enjoy your ideas away from your writing itself. If you draw? Make fanart. Maybe even make AUs in your head. Maybe make some mood boards. HYPE YOURSELF UP! Or as best you can at least, and never force things. If you aren't feeling this particular story right now? Move on to another project and yes having WIPs can be annoying but sometimes it's necessary. Again, these are all just my opinions and stuff I do when I struggle with these; I'm not commanding anyone to do anything and as always, maybe this won't work for you personally. But hey, doesn't hurt to give it a try first and see if it works, or maybe something else will. Whatever the case, this is just my own two cents.

And finally, Number 5. Honestly? This isn't so much as issue in and of itself as much as just an issue of prioritisation. Imagination is the most important part of even coming up with a story to begin with and, honestly, imagining scenes can really help build a mental image of what you want to describe and how things look and feel. One thing, a little cheat code you could say, that I've found is melding daydreaming with research. Which makes absolutely no sense since this is the most funnest part with the most boring part of writing, but hey, it works surprisingly well I assure you. So here's the setup I have; no doc (except for if I really need to jot down some notes), then images that remind me of my work (Pinterest boards maybe, a few mood boards, etc), then the research. I go between each of these; daydreaming. The result? I imagine scenes with the research I want; motifs that work with themes, imagery to use in scenes, what architecture works, what the weapons look like. Then, before I even write, I go back and still daydream WITH what I've researched and it sticks in my mind way better than even the notes I've made. Speaking of, with notes, I like to doodle in the margins of them, make them fun, highlight with fun colours. Sometimes? Research, note taking and writing doesn't have to be work in and of itself, sometimes it can be fun and a little quest of your own. Sometimes making writing and research feel like you're daydreaming can make all the difference between begrudgingly slugging through a chapter, or just having fun writing a new scene you just imagined and that starts to form into something new and exciting.

TLDR: Make writing fun! Like Mary Poppins once said; "a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down". Sometimes it's actually better to make the work into a treat instead of using a treat as a bribe or punishing yourself. In fact, making any part of the process into a punishment for not working just makes everything harder.

ALSO! Just in general, take breaks! It's easy to forget what you're doing (especially once it becomes fun) and forget to take care of yourself both physically and mentally. Too much time looking at a screen (or even just a page) can be straining! Remember to eat! Remember to drink water and sleep! Get up and walk around if you can, go to the bathroom and maybe even go for a little walk outside and get some Vitamin D if you're able to. Remember to maybe take a few days away from writing so you can come at it again with a refreshed mind and new perspective, sometimes you can get boggled down and start getting too focused on one little thing. It's good to let yourself have half an hour, an hour or even a few days to just refresh and go out and get new inspiration just from living. Sometimes the key to writing and ideas is to just stop writing for a bit and to just take a breath.

#writing #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing community #writeblr #novel writing #writers and readers #tumblr writers #tumblr writing community #writerscommunity #writerblr #writers and poets #writing advice #long post #also some swearing oops #writing resources

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beesmygod · 1 year ago

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i think another issue with webcomics having any scene or being taken seriously at all is that its a lot of stale air, everybody got captured by ig/twitter/tumblr and subsequently become trapped in the trappings and style of those websites. all discussion is couched in the boring 'fandom' subculture on websites with pre-built in infinite scroll and shit search, so updates to their comics or body of work are just as ephemeral as posts that are basically 'lol i farted on my dog' and any criticism is 'just being mean' or 'dogpiling on a poor artist'. not to mention any discoverability of anything new is basically going down the twitter/instagram likes of 'known quantities' for your own comic taste because of how atrophied any discussion around the medium has become

I dont see any way to escape this beyond social media dying a brutal and unprofitable death

trying to argue against the webtoons/IG model was entirely pointless the few times i tried, but its a topic that's hard for me to not devolve into frustrated sputtering about. it's so obviously antithetical to the purpose of making art, enjoying things, creation, joy, goodness, etc. and i would, frankly completely irrationally, be framed as someone who had it out for vertical strips. a sentiment which makes no sense unless you assume im the biggest moron and dipshit in the world. im sure arguing against someone is easier when the position you saddle them with is a seriously stupid one.

the inevitable downward spiral of these platforms feels entirely predictable. any model that revolves around quantity over quality is an obviously flawed one in most circumstances but when applied to art its completely absurd. the ideal artist for these websites are people who have no interest in contributing to a vaster landscape of complex works and instead are hyper-focused on being part of a large scale skinner box experiment for adults with compulsive spending issues. the artists themselves have severe numbers poisoning.

these are purely ephemeral and unremarkable comics that are rarely ever seen outside of instagram for their lack of any exceptional or worthwhile unique elements worth passing around. they are created with a factory mindset; crank them out as quickly as possible and flood various websites with the comic equivalent of grey goo in order to amass the maximum number of clicks. their ideal audience is undiscerning and simply looking for stimuli that will not challenge them on any level. logically it follows that is work is explicitly for the largest possible audience one can acquire: the lowest common denominator. they are making work for a computer or an advertiser to enjoy. human enjoyment is secondary.

the unironic and sincere discussion of views and followers as if the numbers have ever been real was surreal. everyone was around for when facebook revealed that it had been grossly inflating its video metrics after strong-arming everyone into moving to video, causing the destruction of several indie companies and websites. you would have to be straight up delusional to think the webtoons numbers are real. like, it is genuinely hard for me to be nice about people who bark bark bark about "its where the audience is!!!!" when the worst comic you've ever read with 2 updates has 12876492375238576 views, 0 patreon followers and 8909 comments. the obviously AI generated comments by accounts with no profiles (as in, you can't click on profiles at all to confirm its even a real person commenting) are beyond the pale lol. its some emperors new clothes shit, if the emperor made his own invisible clothes and cried about how hard they toiled for nothing. and also they were emperor of synecdoche, new york

how does a reasonable adult look at this and conclude its real? isn't it an obvious fiction? its because it's mean to point out otherwise, and being mean is the worst thing you can be.

people used to bitch about how the "had to" made reels and i felt like i was going insane. superstitious nonsense about "the algorithm" spread and has incited people to tortuously warp their work to fit with advertising standards they don't see a penny of, in the hopes of finding an audience that doesn't exist. when the algorithm changes to better suit advertiser needs, they are somehow blindsided and betrayed by this, as if it has not been the M.O. of social media websites for the past 20 years. they will do it again. and again. and again. as advertising becomes less and less financially viable and more and more intrusive, public opinion is going to turn hard on the people who tied themselves to these ships.

call me a rat for fleeing, but i can't bear to entertain this stuff anymore. it's embarrassing, the idea of sacrifice in the name of a greater good (sacrifice being uhhhhh not using fail platforms lol) should not be such a shocking and radical act. it should be reflexive

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capitalisticveins · 1 year ago

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SURPRISE D.A.M.N CREW GENERAL HCs ‼️

I don’t like making hcs on my phone but Friendsgiving yesterday rlly motivated me to just do it

— Caelum likes to chew on his shirt when he’s bored

— Dear has 5 umbrellas even though they live alone

— FL has no idea AI art exists

— Dear likes to buy Lasko ties

— Caelum thinks cats are adorable but is absolutely terrified of them

— Gavin is shit at golf, bowling, and basically every sport in existence except for gymnastics, cheerleading, and table tennis

— Huxley can flex his tits

— Lasko buys every fan except Lasko brand fans

— Dear hasn’t played Mario Kart before but when they first played with Lasko they decimated him

— Damien’s favorite kind of animals are the hairless ones

— Caelum can’t hopscotch

— FL can’t be trusted to go grocery shopping for people because they have shit willpower and no common sense they will buy the wrong brand of item you want and buy 3 packs of pizza rolls for themselves with the person’s money

— Huxley can’t jump rope properly because the rope can’t go around his body

— Damien has a schedule of what to wear and when. He wears specific shirts on SPECIFIC days of the week.

— FL has a child safety lock on their computer for Caelum and Gavin

— Everyone has to tell Damien where they’re going whenever they leave their houses

— Dear somehow got everyone’s number before Friendsgiving and asked everyone to point out Lasko’s use of Mahogany/Burnt Sienna on the letters

— Gavin isn’t allowed inside Max’s Rustic Pizza anymore

— If Damien would let him, Huxley would touch lava, like seriously slap it

— FL likes to dress up as Aang for Halloween

— Lasko and Damien are the only ones to own a bidet

— Huxley owns a mermaid dress

— Gavin owns a fur coat

— As a kid, Huxley was too shy to ask his moms to peel his oranges for him so he just sorta ate them with the peel on until he was 11

— Gavin is banned on tiktok

- and twitter

— Caelum’s wings flap like a hummingbird’s

— Huxley is the only member to buy proper sweet snacks. Lasko buys offbrand and Damien doesn’t buy sweets

— Gavin’s favorite cartoon character is Bugs Bunny

— Despite popular belief, Damien is willing to wear an itchy ugly christmas sweater

— Dear owns a border collie

— Lasko writes fanfiction

— Huxley’s luck is fucking amazing when he plays DND, so much so that it pisses off Lasko and now whenever they campaign with others he makes Huxley the dungeon master

— Damien doesn’t know how to skip

— Gavin can make his own alcoholic beverage at will

— FL isn’t from Dahlia. They’re from NY, but have never been in NYC

— Dear has a very strong opinion on Dasani. I don’t know if they strongly dislike it or strongly like it, but they feel very strongly about it.

— Huxley heard the news about the Summit online, saw it was hosted by Vincent and Lovely, recognized Lovely’s name, and went “wait a minute—”.

— Damien has thought about burning his baby pictures when Huxley found them.

— He attempted to do it when Gavin found them.

— FL has a sweet tooth and since Huxley is the only member to buy sweets, they sneak into his house and consume most of it.

After Damien moved in with Huxley he once woke up at like 2am to get a glass of water and saw FL hunched over sucking the frosting off of the mini cupcakes Huxley buys and chugging milk out of the container, their eyes were glowing in the dark and there was a ton of containers on the floor.

Damien went back to sleep without saying a word. When he woke up all traces of FL being in the house were gone and they don’t recall the night ever happening. No one believes him.

The only reference to the night happening is that all the snacks he saw FL eating were gone.

Lasko believes him but FL won’t let him tell Damien he believes him (it has happened to Lasko too and that’s why he buys offbrand).

— Gavin has accidentally killed someone with a rift.

— Caelum too but he doesn’t know.

— Dear is gonna buy Lasko rash ointment for Christmas with no malicious intent whatsoever.

— Damien owns the same amount of shoes as Milo.

— Gavin can’t swim. Gavin’s bad at a lot of things.

— Caelum can swim with water wings. Caelum’s good at a lot of things.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #redacted lasko #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted dear

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jennamoran · 2 years ago

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if you have I dunno 827492734 tabs open, what is in them?

TUMBLR: large numbers of them will be the tumblr dashboard. You were probably looking at something specific. Something you wanted to look at later. Too bad. They are the tumblr dashboard now.

TWITTER: maybe you are like me and you no longer feel morally comfortable posting to twitter. But did you feel that way 827492734 tabs ago? Even 127492734 tabs ago? I didn’t think so. However, you will notice that roughly half of the specific tweets are gone for reasons best left undiscovered.

GMAIL: gmail might remember what you were doing but probably not. These are just general gmail now.

FAN FIC YOU GOT BORED READING BUT NOT SO BORED AS TO ACTUALLY CLOSE THE TAB ON: oh no

GIFT IDEAS FROM PREVIOUS HOLIDAYS: how you flailed around. HOW you flailed around, year after year, desperately looking for things for all your friends who refuse to be like “you know what I love? cozies. Just get me a doorknob cozy or like an air cozy or a cat cozy or a bed cozy or a computer cozy or something, I’ll be delighted!” Most of the things you found were too expensive or too trashy to actually give them. It’s OK, though. You tried.

REFERENCE ART: why, yes, my open tabs did go back to when I was doing art for the Nobilis 3 remake, why do you ask?

WEBTOONS YOU REALLY DO PLAN TO READ SOMEDAY: it *looks* like it would be an appealing format, the stories aren’t necessarily bad, why do all the webtoons just kind of pile up in your old tabs anyway? It’s not like you turn your nose up at comics, you know.

TREASURE MAP: yeah, yeah, whatever, ^W

THANK YOU FOR ORDERING ME: if you let the page finish loading it might even tell you what it was that you ordered and give you a useful landmark in time! ... there is probably only like a 1% chance it will reorder a whatever it was you bought then. That’s not a big chance at all!

THE HIMMA DAGA ENGLISH-GOTHIC DICTIONARY: like me I am sure that probably like 1 in 20 of your old tabs are dedicated to the Himma Daga English-Gothic dictionary because of all the times one has to look up Gothic words in everyday life. It is the constant drumbeat of my day.

A PDF THAT YOU ALREADY DOWNLOADED: I should probably turn off the option that makes these download instead of loading in my browser

REQUESTS TO LOG INTO DROPBOX: these are probably actually dropbox links but what, like, I am going to log in to things? I am Jenna Moran things should log in to ME

1976 AMC HORNET SPORTABOUT WAGON: ambient 1976 AMC Hornet Sportabout Wagons were a big problem for me at one point while browsing if you know what I mean

IMPORTANT THINGS AND SITES TO REMEMBER: you have just switched from that tab to here and you have forgotten all of them already.

LISTS OF IMPORTANT THINGS AND SITES TO REMEMBER: oh, sure, that’s so much better

DECLUTTERING ADVICE: yeah, yeah, whatever, ^W

#home archaeology

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faulty-writes · 1 year ago

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Hello, I wanted to know if there is a way to write a Monoma x reader shy oneshot that is in classe 1-C and that Monoma has a crush on she (she would be very shy with people from other classes)

[ Alright here we go. This was actually way longer, but I didn't want to make a super long one-shot. So that being the case, there will be a part two to this as soon as I finish writing it. But I hope you enjoy part one. ]

A sigh left your lips as you flipped to the next page of the Encyclopedia of Heroes, continuing to search for information for your project. Some may say that being a General Studies student is boring. Although Yuuei was known for its Hero Course, the school itself was elite.

Regardless of what department you were placed in, the education you received was top-notch. Of course, most would argue that the hero and support department students got off easy considering the academic projects they were assigned were few and far between.

The project you were assigned was to pick a concept within hero studies and present it to the class. The concept you chose was to compare characteristics between pro heroes and current student heroes. You were hoping to find out which traits truly make a hero shine.

Granted this required you to narrow your selection of heroes down. While you could interview the former number-one hero, considering he was a teacher at Yuuei, your shy nature worked against you. Outside of the General Studies Department, you hardly spoke to anyone.

Whether this was due to social anxiety or not was unknown. However, you had long since learned to accept your shyness even if it got in the way of completing simple tasks. Sighing, you closed the encyclopedia and rose from the table, placing your hand on your forehead.

You looked around the library. There were a few other students present, either sitting down at one of the provided computers or talking to one another. You glanced down at the table. In addition to the encyclopedia, there were several papers scattered across it, each filled with notes referring to your project.

“Maybe I should…take a break…” you muttered to yourself. You looked toward the exit, debating getting a snack from the vending machine. You latched onto your lip and curled your hands into the bottom of your shirt as your stomach twisted with familiar anxiety.

Then again, did you really want to leave? What if someone tried to talk to you at the vending machine and you froze up? You groaned and pressed your hands against your face. ‘Calm down,’ you tried taking a deep breath, blissfully unaware of the peeping eyes watching your every move.

Those eyes belonged to Neito Monoma. Yes, anyone, apart from those so-called “heroes” in Class A, would feel honored to be the target of his affection. In fact, he first saw you in this library months ago. You had your face buried in a book and he was standing nearby when another general studies student approached you.

Of course, he wanted to eavesdrop and get some juicy gossip. This was because it was always interesting to hear what was taking place in other departments. But when you lowered that book from your face, he felt his heart soar.

To hide such beauty was surely a crime. Of course, you weren’t as beautiful as him but a perfect fit, nonetheless. He decided right then and there, you would be his. He had carefully calculated his moves, waiting for the right moment to slip in.

This was because he had long since learned how shy you were around others. It was quite endearing, but he might be able to help you with that once you two got closer. After all, he was going to be a famous hero and needed a confident, competent partner by his side.

“You can…you can do this,” you hesitated to move, believing that several eyes were watching you. In reality, everyone was minding their own business. You slowly placed one foot in front of the other, and before you knew it, you scurried out of the library with your head down.

Neito chuckled as he watched you leave. “How amusing,” he said, looking at the table you were sitting at. “Hm,” he perched his lips and glanced over the cover of the encyclopedia, curiously opening, and flipping through the first few pages although he found it quite boring, and yet jealousy filled him.

He closed it with force and firmly pressed his palm against it. Why would you waste your precious time reading about other heroes when he was your one and only hero? Even if you didn’t know it yet, his perfection did not pass you by...did it?

He grumbled before noticing the piles of notes underneath the encyclopedia. “Oh, what did my shy darling write? Surely, she is more intelligent than those Class A students!” he declared, bluntly ignoring anyone who heard him as he moved the book and gently compiled your notes into a neat stack.

He scanned over the first page, jealous that you spent so much time analyzing other heroes instead of him. He huffed and read through the second note which was piled with thoughts on the various characteristics found in famous heroes and some scribbled thoughts regarding hero students' characteristics.

He frowned, going through the pile until he threw it back onto the table. “How dare she write such admiration for other heroes!” he hissed, clenching his fists together. He wanted to be the only one on your mind. He could prove to you that he was the only hero worth your time and-oh wait!

Yes! That was it, how brilliant of him! He would simply offer to be a part of your project. From what he could gather you were quite eager to learn about hero students, and what better one to analyze than him!? Yes, the temptation to join your project was overwhelming.

If you were truly dedicated to it, there was no reason you’d say no and so he waited for you to return. Your heart was beating fast as you jogged past the entrance of the library, and hunched over, pressing your hands against your knees.

One of them clenched the snack you got from the vending machine. Despite your anxiety continuing to escalate you accomplished your small goal and the reward was delicious onigiri. A bit plain in terms of a snack, but it suited you well and would be filling until you left for the day.

You took a deep breath and leaned back up as your heart thumped in your chest. You looked at the onigiri in your hand and smiled, unwrapping it as you walked back to your table. You took one satisfying bite, enjoying the salty taste dancing across your tongue.

However, this small moment of joy came to a staggering halt when you saw someone sitting at your table and stopped in your tracks. His hair was the first thing you noticed, as it looked silky and was the fairest blond color you had ever seen.

His eyes stood out next. They were piercing periwinkle and had a hungry or predatorial appearance. His skin looked fair and smooth, and his lips curled into a smirk that sent a violent tremble through your body. “Ah, Y/n,” he said, slowly standing from the chair.

“It’s quite a pleasure to be face to face with you, although I’m certain the pleasure is all yours for gazing at my glorious face. You know many girls speak of its beauty,” he said, chuckling as he pressed a hand to his cheek.

“H-huh?” Your jaw hung open and the partially chewed onigiri fell to the floor. “My, my, one shouldn’t make a mess although your pretty little mouth is likely more appetizing than that onigiri you’re holding,” he purred, rounding the table with hungry eyes still fixated on you.

Your first instinct was to back away, despite your cheeks turning red as if the sun itself had come down and burned you. How did he know your name? Had he been waiting for you to return, and if so why!? He continued walking forward until he was a foot away from you.

His smirk made you tremble and subconsciously hold your breath. “Although I have little interest in the matters of others. After all, if it doesn’t involve me, it’s of little importance. But I couldn’t help but notice the project you were working on,” he stated, gesturing to the table.

“You’re a rather messy one, that’s quite unfitting for a student of such beauty,” he said. Despite your reddened cheeks, you drew your bottom lip into your mouth and glanced away. How could he be so mean, and yet sound so sincere?

His smirk faded and his eyes glossed over as if he were under someone's spell when he noticed you weren’t looking at him. Well, this wouldn’t do. You cried out when he stepped forward, and grasped your chin, making you look at him.

Your eyes were wide and trembling with what he assumed was fear. But you couldn't be afraid of him, right? No, it was just your shy nature. ‘Why is he touching me!?’ You frantically thought, completely disregarding his compliment concerning your beauty.

Your lips trembled in an effort to speak, and yet only a pathetic squeak came out. He chuckled at the sound of it and leaned close. Your heart raced because you weren’t used to others being this physically close to you, especially someone whose name you didn't know.

Despite your rational mind telling you to turn your tail and run, your body wouldn’t listen. This boy, this fellow student, paralyzed you without trying. “Tell me, why are you wasting your time with such trivial heroes when the only one you need to focus your project on is right before you?”

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed heavily, your fear turning into confusion. ‘Wait…is he a hero student?’ You could barely recall if you had seen him passing through the hallway, then again you walked with your head down most of the time.

You also had very little interest in watching the Sports Festival, let alone participating in school festivals. “U-um…” you tried to speak again, and again the words failed to form. Neito tilted his head, his facial features enveloped with concern but as silence filled the air, he smirked.

“Ah, speechless in front of me. That’s quite understandable,” he commented, and you couldn’t help but tremble in disgust. Was this guy obsessed with himself? “I’ll make this easy for you then,” he said, finally removing his hand from your chin and smirking again as he saw the color of your cheeks.

So red and luscious. It looked wonderful on you. “I will be a part of your project,” he stated, knowing he was demanding instead of asking. Your eyes widened and you stepped back, wanting to ask him ‘what?’ but not having the courage to form the words. Your face said enough, and Neito chuckled.

“Yes, I know it’s quite a shock,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “I'd be a worthwhile contribution, don't you think?” You almost suspected he was asking because he knew you were too shy to answer. Which in a sense was kind of cruel. Then again, even if you somehow responded you assumed he'd keep talking.

“I can even showcase the versatility of my Copy quirk, surely that would convince you that I, Neito Monoma, your Phantom Thief can emulate the abilities of various heroes plus more!” he declared, bluntly ignoring anyone who turned their head in his direction.

Your face was now dripping with sweat, and you weren't sure if that was from your shyness or the fact you were angry at the moment. He approached you, now wearing a smile that looked too sweet and sickening. “Hmm, what do you say?” he asked. “Don’t you agree I’d make a wonderful contribution to your project?”

You glanced away and latched onto your bottom lip which trembled. ‘Well…maybe this is my chance to study a hero student like I wanted, maybe the data I collect from him would be valuable. I could find out why he's so enthusiastic and determined.’

Although your stomach twisted at the thought of spending time with him, and the realization that at some point you'd need to ask him personal questions to determine why certain characteristics he displayed were stronger or weaker than pro heroes made your mouth go dry.

You grumbled before releasing your lip and looking at him. You didn’t say anything, just nodded, and Neito grinned like a madman. “Wonderful!” he said, throwing his hands in the air before brushing past you, purposely rubbing his shoulder against yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, same time, same place.” You tried to take a breath when he walked away, but he stopped short and walked up to you again. Your back was facing him, and you cried out when he grasped your hand that was still gripping onto the now squished onigiri.

Your jaw hung open when you turned your head. Soft squeaks came when he locked eyes with you and bit into your snack. You watched his pink tongue come out, collecting any pieces of leftover rice that stuck to his lips before he chewed and swallowed.

“Ta-ta,” he said, waving you goodbye as he walked away, and you could only stare in horror at the bite he had taken. Well…that was a waste of a good snack. The next day, you resented your agreement to allow Neito to be the focus of your project.

You hated knowing that you agreed only because you were a people pleaser and too shy or lacking the voice to express yourself. Then again, he seemed so persistent that even if you said no, he would continue to push until he got his way.

“Yes, I’m quite sure all you pathetic heroes in Class A are in despair that I have been selected to be part of Y/n’s project! Surely it will highlight the various reasons I remain above the heroes that make up your sorry excuse of a class,” he stated bluntly as he stood in the Class A doorway.

Tsuyu spoke first, “Wow, Monoma. That’s some interesting news.” Katsuki clenched his jaw. “Tch, why the hell do we care about something so damn meaningless!?” he shouted, shoving Neito out of the way who chuckled in response.

“Hm, that’s about the answer I’d expect from a delinquent like you,” he replied with a smirk. “Of course, that’s to be expected from one who couldn’t even pass the provisional licensing exam.” Katsuki’s body stiffened, but before he could say anything Eijirou spoke up.

“Jeez, cool it, man! What’s your problem!?” Neito narrowed his eyes. He had a history with the red-headed fool. Seemed they’d always be on opposite ends. “I don’t believe a thing is wrong with me,” he stated before turning his back on Eijirou and the rest of Class A.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m due to meet Y/n at the library.” Eijirou curled his lips, watching Neito walk away in slight disgust before turning to Tsuyu. “Isn’t Y/n someone in general studies?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Ribbit, I think so. But they don’t talk much to anyone outside of their class,” she replied and Eijirou's eyebrows knit together. If that were the case, how could Neito have convinced you to be part of whatever project you were working on?

Your anxiety was high as you waited for him to appear. Your feet bounced against the carpeted floor below you, and breathing exercises weren’t your friend at the moment. You curled your hands on the table and your eyes focused on the single notebook on it.

You were hoping you wouldn’t have too much to talk about because Neito already showed a variety of characteristics that contrasted pro heroes. Either way, you needed to document as much information as possible if you wanted your project to thrive.

You closed your eyes, taking another much-needed breath before nervously tapping the tip of your pencil against the notebook, but this didn’t ease the knots in your stomach. ‘Why did it have to be him though?’ At times like this, you wondered if fate was being cruel or challenging you to overcome the obstacle of your shy nature.

You tried to redirect your thoughts and opened your notebook, although your hand was trembling. You decided to write an introduction regarding your project and the subject you’d be studying, Neito Monoma. “Hm,” you paused and tapped the pencil against your lips. What did he say his quirk was?

You thought for a moment before scribbling down ‘Copy?’ With any luck you’d find out more about his quirk as this progressed. However, if you were being honest, you wanted this to end as soon as possible. You sighed and laid the pencil onto the notebook.

You stared blankly at the lined pages until approaching footsteps made you raise your head. Your throat tightened when you saw the smirk on Neito’s face and those eyes held that same intimidating gaze as before.

“Hello dear Y/n,” he said, pressing one hand against his chest. Your breathing turned heavy, your face dusted over red, and his greeting was met with silence. “Oh, still shy I see,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair.

“How adorably you,” he commented, causing your already abnormal heart rate to skyrocket. “Mm…” You clasped your hands together in your lap and leaned forward, your mind urging you to return his greeting. However, as the seconds passed, awkwardness consumed you.

The weight of his stare didn’t help, but you felt relief when he took a seat. What could you say to him? How could you get through this project?! He smiled and took a moment to admire how devilishly delicious you looked with those reddened cheeks before glancing down and noticing your open notebook.

“Oh, and what do we have here?” he asked, reaching over to grab it. You gasped and leaned across the table to get your notebook back. In response, Neito leaned back and held the notebook away from you. A hungry glance flashed in his eyes when you looked at him.

You trembled and immediately scrambled back only to collide with your chair, causing it to fall to the floor along with you. You could feel the stares on you and a few people approached, making your already reddened face deepen.

You could only stare at the carpet trying to fight back the awkwardness while simultaneously wishing the floor would swallow you whole. “Hey there!” a cheerful voice said, breaking through the silence and darkness that clouded your mind at that moment.

You lifted your head to see a tall and muscular boy, who you quickly assumed was a third-year student. He had blue eyes and a round button-like nose. His blond hair was spiked up in the front and looked short around the back.

He smiled and extended his hand to you. “Need a hand? Heh, get it? Hand!?” he exclaimed excitedly, making your eyebrows knit. “Excuse me!” Neito snapped, standing between you and the third-year student. “How dare you attempt to lay a hand on Y/n,” he growled, curling his hands into fists by his sides.

Your eyes widened, amazed that he didn't care about the attention turned on him. Then again, given his personality, he probably thrived on it. “Huh?” He blinked. “Oh hey, you’re one of those first-year students, Monoma, right?”

“Nice to meet you, I'm Mirio Togata!” he said, now extending the hand he had held out to you to Neito instead. However, he only received the boy’s angry glare in return and watched as he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You trembled at his touch, but he seemed to ignore this at the moment.

Mirio blinked, taking in the image of the two of you. “Oh, heh sorry did I interrupt something?” he asked, scratching the side of his head. Your heart was racing so fast you weren’t sure if you were nervous or having a heart attack.

Neito holding you so close was new and though you wanted to push him away, your shy nature prevented you from acting. Neito narrowed his eyes and turned his head, ignoring Mirio. You flinched when his hair brushed against your head, and he locked his eyes with yours.

You could feel his hot breath against your face when he spoke. “Oh, my dear, Y/n are you alright? Don’t pay any mind to the upperclassmen who rudely interrupted our study session,” he said, using his other hand to wave Mirio away.

“Hm?” Mirio tilted his head in response before chuckling. “Heh, well okay!” he smiled. “Have a good session!” he said walking away. Neito snarled and removed his arm from around you only when he was sure that Mirio had actually left.

“Now that the interruption is over, perhaps we can do something else,” he said, reaching down to grab your hands, which once again caused your face to grow red. You wanted to ask, ‘Like what?’ but like before, your words were frozen in your throat, and you glanced away as he helped you stand up.

“Notes are quite dull and boring,” he said, moving closer to the table to grab your notebook. “It would be far more interesting to watch me in action. After all, I did promise I’d let you see my quirk, did I not?” he said. You cried out when he tossed your notebook at you which you barely caught.

He smirked, “Wouldn’t it be a privilege to watch one as beautiful as I? You can still take notes if you wish,” he said before approaching. You squeaked when he grasped your chin, guiding your head up to look at him. “As long as you keep those pretty eyes on me.”

He was tempted to lean over and kiss your reddened cheeks but decided against it for now. “Do hurry and gather your things,” he said, turning away from you. “Huh?” You glanced between him and the table with your arms pressed against your chest.

However, when Neito tapped his foot against the floor, you rushed to pick your backpack up. You shoved the notebook inside and threw the strap over your shoulder. You followed him out of the library with your hands curled into the bottom of your shirt and your eyes focused on the floor. You felt pathetic following him like a lost puppy.

You lifted your head only to focus it back on the floor when you passed another student in the hallway. You latched onto your bottom lip again wondering why you agreed to this. You cried out when you stumbled into Neito, who you hadn’t realized had stopped walking.

Your eyes widened when you realized you were now pressed against his back. You looked up, groaning when Neito looked at you from over his shoulder. Once again that rush of heat coursed through your cheeks and you immediately backed away, folded your hands in front of you, and bowed.

You would say sorry, but you could only imagine the ridicule that would get you. He chuckled, “Oh dear, Y/n I do enjoy you bowing although if you bowed at my feet that would be more satisfying.” You knit your eyebrows.

Yeah…there was definitely something wrong with Neito. You slowly leaned back up, feeling the heat cool and your cheeks return to normal. “Um…” you frowned and looked around, noticing that you were now standing in front of the Class-1A door. What were you doing in the hero department?

Neito noticed the confused look on your face and chuckled again. “I will be right back,” he stated, walking up to the door before knocking. You drew your bottom lip into your mouth, slightly concerned when you heard a grouchy and raspy voice respond, “Come in.”

Neito turned to look at you again before entering the room. You were slightly nervous and wondered what he could be doing but tried not to lose yourself in anxiety. You closed your eyes as you leaned against the row of lockers and took a deep breath.

You ran through the different scenarios that could happen when Neito finally showed you his quirk. You had never seen any of the hero students' training sessions and it was impossible to tell if they had mastered their quirks or were still rough around the edges.

Although Neito seemed confident enough that even if he was still training his quirk, he’d find some excuse to act as though it were superior to everyone else. You took a deep breath and sighed as you placed one foot against one of the lockers behind you.

In a way, you envied him. If you had a fraction of his self-confidence, maybe you wouldn’t be so awkward. Then again, Neito seemed to like you for some odd reason. Or at least that's what you could gather from his flirtation and insistence on being a part of your project.

What did he see in you? Obviously, something you couldn’t. You looked up when the door opened, and Neito proudly stepped out with a large grin across his face. Your eyes widened, and your stomach twisted into knots just thinking about the various reasons why that smile was on his face.

“Ah, dear Y/n, I’m quite happy to see that you are still here. I would say sorry for making you wait but you’ll soon find out that the wait was worth it,” he declared, once again showing his confidence as well as stubborn nature. You frowned, glancing away from him.

You folded your hands against your chest and felt your lips tremble before parting them. “Wh-” The question faded along with your courage and Neito’s eyes widened, surprised that you had even attempted to talk to him.

He stepped closer, making your heart race. Out of instinct, you tried to step back only to remember you were leaning against the lockers. He placed his hands behind his back, smiling at you like a happy predator eager to bite into its prey.

“How adorable, are you trying to ask why?” he questioned before patting you on the head, making you squeak involuntarily, and your cheeks turn rosy. “Um…” you swallowed hard, looking away from him although that didn’t tame your embarrassment.

With some regret you nodded, making Neito’s grin heighten. He extended the hand he had just used to pat your head out in front of you. “Take my hand,” he said, “and I’ll show you the answer.” Your heart pounded so hard it echoed in your ears. Why was he of all people offering you his hand?

“Mm…” you latched onto your bottom lip and laid your hand in his. Possessively, he curled his fingers around your hand and that was concerning. So was the way he pulled you down the hallway and toward Ground Gamma.

This was an unfamiliar experience for you given that general studies students weren’t permitted on training grounds reserved for hero or support department students. You tried pulling your hand away from Neito's, afraid of standing where you were not permitted to.

Unfortunately, his grip was like iron, and it was highly unlikely that you’d break free. The sound of your footsteps echoed through Ground Gamma. You looked down, realizing that the floor was made of metal and that the rest of the area was open.

Why did the hero students train here? You hadn’t realized you were still holding Neito’s hand when he stopped in the middle of the training ground until he tightened his grip which caused you to snap back to reality.

“Yes, I know it’s quite memorizing here, isn't it?” he replied, once again smiling at you. “Oh u-um…” you tried to speak but nodded your head like before. “Oh, I’m so glad you agree!” he declared, letting go of your hand before spinning around.

The sound of his laughter bounced off the walls, creating an eerie effect that made you tremble. But it ended just as quickly as it started, and he turned to look at you. “Now, I promised you a demonstration of my quirk. But I’d like you to use yours on me first.”

Your eyes widened at his request. “W-what?” you replied before clasping your hands over your mouth, realizing that was the first actual word you had spoken around him. His expression dropped and instead, a look of curiosity enveloped his face, followed by a smirk.

“My, am I breaking through that shell of yours already?” he said, pressing a triumphant hand against his chest. “Well, what more could one expect from someone as amazing as I?” he said. Seriously, where did all his confidence come from?

“Now then, I requested that you use your quirk on me, and don’t worry about any consequences. Mr. Aizawa has granted us both permission to be here,” he said, before spreading his arms out. “Don’t hold back,” he instructed.

While you weren’t sure how truthful he was being, you were reminded that your project depended on this interaction. You frowned, hesitant to go through with it but Neito would more than likely keep persisting until you were driven nuts.

Although you already knew you'd hold back, when you tried to use your quirk, you couldn’t. “Huh?” Your eyes widened and you looked at your hands, startled that something was wrong with your body. However, you lifted your head when you heard Neito laugh.

You trembled when you saw that his eyes were now glowing yellow, and his hair was floating upward as if gravity itself had broken. “See!?” he said with a smirk as he pointed at himself. “This is my quirk, isn’t it marvelous!?” he declared.

“Erasure is quite amazing and all I had to do was touch Mr. Aizawa to copy his quirk,” he explained and took pride in your mesmerized look. It was rather adorable to see those eyes widen as you took him in, and those adorable lips fall open.

“I’m flattered you’re so amazed,” he stated before his hair fell flat against his head again. “Heh…” you glanced down, trying to fight the blush dusting your cheeks a perfect rosy red. You should really be writing all this down, you swallowed and hesitantly slipped your bag off your shoulders.

Unzipping it, you took your notebook out. You lowered yourself onto the cool metal floor and scribbled down a few notes. Of course, Neito didn’t like that you weren’t paying attention to him and crossed his arms in a huff. “Y/n,” he said but got no response from you and leaned over, waving his hand in front of your face.

“Are you listening to me? While I’m happy to see that you are writing about my marvelous quirk, I do require your attention,” he stated, making you pause and look at him. “Finally,” he commented, crossing his arms, and looking displeased.

“Um…” you opened your mouth to speak but shake your head, too embarrassed to ask him personal questions yet. But this was your project and you needed to ask him about his quirk. Just one little thing! It wouldn’t kill you, would it!?

“Y-your…q…q-quirk…” you managed to say and watched his eyes light up as if hearing your voice was the sweetest melody and he was so proud that you spoke up! “L…l-limitations?” Your heart beat so fast and your face felt on fire.

He blinked in response, and the silence between you was suffocating. Your hands clenched around your notebook. Had you said the wrong thing? Damn it. You looked down as if staring at the floor would be beneficial but looked back up when Neito knelt in front of you.

“Oh, dear, Y/n. Do you truly believe my quirk has limitations?” he asked once again making your stomach twist. “I…e-every quirk…” Your words trailed off, fading into the air causing him to frown. “I suppose every hero has their weaknesses,” he said with a grumble.

“I’m afraid that I’m limited to holding four quirks at once and can only use them for a limited amount of time,” he'd go into detail but didn’t feel like it was the time and hated talking about his weaknesses. It reminded him of the reason why he wanted to become a hero in the first place.

To prove them wrong. To prove he could be someone and while he loved the idea of fame and fortune, in this moment, all he cared about was having your attention. He seemed to have chipped away at your hard shell, even if only slightly today.

Perhaps he shouldn’t push his luck further. “Well do have fun writing down what you experienced here today. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said, walking past you. “Hm!?” you turned on the floor, watching him walk away in a panic.

Should you stay where you were? What if you couldn’t find your way back? You latched onto your lip, wanting to tell him to stop but not having the courage to. You jolted up and ran toward him, not entirely thinking about what consequences it would bring.

He paused and turned around when he heard your frantic steps and for a moment, grew concerned when he saw you running to him. He involuntarily shouted when you tripped over something, which almost seemed impossible given the structure of Ground Gamma.

But perhaps you tripped over your own feet in your frantic hurry. Either way, the feeling of your body colliding with his was blissful and though he tried his hardest to stop you from both falling, he found this to be impossible. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you out of instinct and took the brunt of the impact when you fell to the floor.

You felt his body tremble underneath yours and opened your eyes to realize that you cradled against his chest which caused your face to turn red. You placed your hands against his chest and pushed yourself up, feeling him grunt in reply.

“S-sorry!” you squeaked out before looking for your notebook which was lying on the ground a little way from where you and Neito were. You looked back, seeing him open his eyes only to find that you were now sitting on top of him.

Silence filled the space between you. He raised one hand out to you only to flinch when a raspy, tired voice filled the air. “Alright, Ground Gamma is closed,” Shota announced as irritated as ever before he lifted his head and stopped suddenly.

He blinked, concerned about why Neito was lying on the floor and you on top of him, but judging by those two sets of wide eyes looking back at him, he might have walked in on something that happened at the wrong time and in the wrong place.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Neito said immediately sitting up and causing you to fall back again. This caused him to grab onto your wrist to prevent you from hitting the floor. You grasped his hand and steadied yourself. Your cheeks burned and you felt slightly faint.

‘Damn it! Why do I get into these situations!?’ You frantically got up, deciding that saying nothing and running away was a better option than explaining yourself. “Y/n?” Neito asked, his voice quiet as he watched you grab your notebook before running past Shota.

Yeah, you said earlier that you were worried you wouldn’t be able to find your way back, but maybe getting lost wouldn’t be so terrible. You clenched your notebook against your chest as you ran. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess.

However, you could always write down everything you learned about Neito later today and maybe even write down some questions you wanted to ask him. There had to be more limitations to his quirk, and there had to be a reason why he wanted to become a hero.

It wasn’t because he was stuck up or thought he was better than everyone else even though he portrayed himself that way. But when you tripped, the way he wrapped his arms around you to keep you safe said something about him. He had a genuine care for keeping others safe.

Maybe he'd even take the brunt of any injury if it meant others remained unharmed. But isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do!? If that were true then why did that moment, that single moment change your perspective on Neito? Was he truly an arrogant man or was there more to him than meets the eye?

[ Second Part ]

#faulty writes: neito monoma: 23 #neito x female reader #bnha x female reader #neito x reader #monoma x reader #monoma x y/n #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #faulty writes: neito monoma: one shot: 23 #faulty writes: neito monoma: hero studies series: 23

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markerofthemidnight · 9 months ago

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Body Horror and Transformation Writing Prompt List For All You Freaks-But-Not-Sexual-Freaks

As a certified body horror fan, I wholeheartedly believe that there’s a horrific lack of body horror/transformation-but-not-in-a-kinky-way fics on AO3, so I made this to set things straight.

We got all kinds of possibilities: body horror for all you horrible freaks out there, and simple non-painful or disgusting transformations for all you significantly less freaky weirdos out there!

You can choose which to write by yourself if you’d like or maybe just use a random number generator.

Reblogs are much appreciated, and inspired fics even more! (I can’t promise that I’ll know anything about whatever fandom you decide to write for obviously but I’ll likely give it a shot as long as it was made using this list (and isn’t smut))

Body Horror Prompts

Wingfic (The good, old-fashioned, non-kinky transformation fic tag.)

Gothic (Werewolf, vampire, etc… you get the drill.)

Animal (Another good old-fashioned classic.)

Cyborg/Robot (Not as fleshy as the others but it is body horror still.)

Fantasy (This one’s pretty good because “fantasy” is actually just a really big umbrella term for absolutely anything as long as it’s not an animal that exists. “Fantasy” ain’t just dragons and unicorns.)

Alien/Eldritch Anatomy (Let’s say your character got abducted by aliens while they were asleep last night and they’ve come out all fucked up. Like that.)

Mutilated by a crazy person Human Centipede-style (Of course, though, this could result in a number of things. Please don’t make me read your own retelling of Human Centipede.)

Really fucked disease (This is fun because if it’s contagious it means potentially more than one character could be affected.

Mutilated by power (You know that one scene from Akira? Yeah, that. A character gets exposed to more weird magic than their body can handle and it starts to change them. Like how the Fantastic Four got their powers, depending on the adaptation.)

Transformation into species from one of your other fandoms (PLEASE someone make it Pokemon, the body horror potential there is impeccable)

Angelic/Demonic transformation (Which one is up to you… or maybe just flip a coin.)

AMOGUS (or something similar like changelings or such. Excuse me, I just left this here because I was out of ideas.)

Body Horror extra flavour spices for you to add if bored:

Mass Transformation (The same except whatever the prompt is happens to more characters than just one or two.)

Partial Transformation (They transform except not much.)

Slow Transformation (In case you feel like writing something a bit longer.)

Voluntary (Voluntary body horror sounds like something really fun, honestly.)

Involuntary but temporary (Like a werewolf, y’know?)

Roll more than once (Self-explanatory.)

Roll again on the opposite table

Transformation (aka the same thing but with no body horror) Prompts

Animal (like the above but instantaneous/oblivious/painless.)

Body Swap (Very fun, especially when different species are added to the mix.)

Gender Swap (If you’d like an idea of a nice twist to add to this, I’d suggest swapping sexual preference as well as gender. Straight men are still straight as women, and gay men are now lesbians. Very fun if only a select few characters have been affected.)

Ghost (May lean into body horror slightly depending on the method of death. Speaking of which, I’m a big fan of when ghosts get unique appearances/powers depending on the method of death, so maybe you could add that to spice it up?)

Trapped in a computer/other kind of machine (I think I read a creepypasta about this once. It was really fun.)

Reincarnated as a Different Species (That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime, So I’m A Spider So What?… I think there was this one anime where the main character got reincarnated as a vending machine. That’s how versatile this prompt is.)

Isekai into Another Fandom (Overlaps with the above heavily, but more specific.)

Video Game Logic World (You know the Jumanji sequels? That.)

Emergency Transformation (Like the TvTrope: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EmergencyTransformation)

Karmic Transformation (Like the TvTrope: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/KarmicTransformation)

Two+ Characters, One Body (I REALLY love this trope because that baby can fit so many shenanigans in depending on how it’s taken.)

Empathic Transformation (This wasn’t worded really well but basically what if a character is transformed into what they see themselves as/transformed by another character into what the transformer sees them as. This could also cross over into body horror depending on how you take it.)

Transformation Extra Flavour Spices For If You’re Bored:

Mass Transformation (self-explanatory)

Voluntary

Involuntary but temporary (Again, like a werewolf)

Partial Transformation (Of course, this only works with about half of the listed prompts but it’s still good.)

Pokemon (PLEASE. OKAY I KNOW THAT’S SPECIFIC BUT POKEMON TRANSFORMATION FICS ARE ALWAYS A RIDE. IT CAN OVERLAP WITH ALL OF THE ABOVE IF YOU PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT: “GHOST” BEING PHANTUMP. “TRAPPED IN A COMPUTER” BEING PORYGON/ROTOM. I’D LOVE TO READ A FIC LIKE THIS. AND. AND. IF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED IN WRITING A FULL-ON POKEMON STORY, JUST PUT IT IN ONE OF YOUR OTHER FANDOMS. LIKE, POKEMON AREN’T THINGS THAT EXIST THERE, NOT EVEN IN FICTION, SO EVERYONE’S WEIRDED THE FUCK OUT.)

Roll more than once (Self-explanatory.)

Roll again on the opposite table

And that’s all! I’ll try my best to read anything you guys may make with this list (that’s not smut, kinky or a retelling of Human Centipede) so go out and spread the word! (oh god people are definitely going to accuse this of being my fetish aren’t they)

#ao3 #writing #body horror #writing prompt list #prompt list

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noonaishere · 4 months ago

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Music of the Heart [J.YH] - seventy-four | the great (less confined) indoors

You walked into the dance studio, where the girls of the team were dancing a routine. Mingi turned upon hearing the door open and smiled and waved you over. You walked over to where he stood at the stereo console and he gave you a big hug.

“What are they practicing for? They seem super serious.”

“Online competition.”

“Oh…” you nodded. “They look good.”

“Yeah, I think they’ll win.” He smiled at you.

You crossed your fingers and held them up for him to see. “Here’s hoping.”

You turned back to the group and they ended in their ending pose. Mingi stopped the song and clicked around as he looked for the next song.

Just as they had, the door opened and Yunho walked in. Your eyebrows ticked up in surprise, but you adjusted, and pretended like you hadn’t noticed.

He clapped for the girls and most of them ran over and said hi to him, giggling like schoolgirls.

“There’s our other guest of honor!” Mingi said after laughing at Yunho being mobbed by the girls.

Yunho said goodbye to them and walked over, seemingly surprised that you were also there.

“T/n… I didn’t know you were coming to the dance studio.”

“Mingi invited me.”

“T/n is my pet project. She needs to have someone make her leave her apartment or she never will.” Mingi volunteered.

You shot him a look of fake displeasure.

Yunho chuckled. “Hard at work?”

“Generally.” You answered. “Music doesn’t make itself.”

He smiled. “You always were a hard worker.”

Your eyes widened. You never told Mingi you and Yunho knew each other. Did Yunho tell him? You looked at Mingi, who looked from one of you to the other, confused.

“I mean--” Yunho backtracked “--Jongho told me that Hongjoong and Maddox said you are. And you make so many mashups, like you said.”

You nodded slowly. “I mean… there isn’t much else to do.”

This seemed to satisfy Mingi’s suspicions and he went back to the computer.

You nodded.

“Umm… You could text me if you want. You know, if you’re bored. We could get to know each other better.”

You knew he was saying that for Mingi, to further create the illusion that the two of you had only met recently, but it had an added effect in your mind: you both had changed so much that you supposed it really was like you were just getting to know one another, all over again. A fresh start.

You nodded. “I do have your number now.”

He nodded, but was almost thrown by one of the dancers jumping on him. Confused, he turned, “Uzin! Hey man, what’s going on?”

They hugged.

“Long time no fucking see, man! Are you here to dance?”

“I am, actually.”

“Uh oh,” Mingi said. “Do you want your old song?”

Yunho thought for a second and his gaze settled on you for a few moments. He looked back over to Mingi with a smile, “Yeah, sure.”

Yunho put his stuff down near the mirror and stood in the center of the room, practicing a couple little moves as Mingi pulled up the song.

“‘Old song’?” You asked Mingi.

“Mhm. The song he’d always perform at busks. He’d make a ton of money.”

You chuckled. “Is it sexy?”

Mingi laughed and pressed play.

It wasn’t sexy.

Unless you were the type of person to find extremely clean and technical moves sexy. Well, you supposed there was a certain type of sexiness in someone being really good at what they do… like, really good. The way he moved was incredible: his waves were so smooth, his isolations made him look like a robot and not a human, he wasn’t offbeat for a singular second, and his feet were so fast he almost looked like he was floating. No wonder he helped to found a dance team; he was a dancer’s dancer.

He was so powerful and still so precise with his movements… It wasn’t really that he was moving to the music, it was more like the music was moving him. It was like his body was just innately responding to what it was hearing. It was kind of cool to see.

You had only seen him dance a little bit before the falling out. He had been in every school musical as an ensemble dancer, but your parents didn’t allow you to go to any. Instead, you saw him practice if you had managed to catch him during the school day, and you remembered him being good. But his lead role in a musical came after you had stopped being friends. You remember looking at the poster in the hallway, still mad at him but wondering how he was going to sound on stage; you’d only ever heard him singing in his room, after all. You couldn’t even remember what musical it was, just that his name was on the poster and that, at that point, you couldn’t even see it if you wanted to.

You supposed that the dance crew was what he did after, since he didn’t have you as a friend anymore. You couldn’t figure out if you were sad about that or not.

When the song stopped he stopped, and the dancers applauded as he bowed. He came back over to you and Mingi.

“Very nice.” Mingi nodded with a smile.

Yunho smiled. He looked at you. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah--”

“Do you guys want to sit at the mirror?” Mingi interrupted. “We have more practicing to do.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You said, and you and Yunho sat on the floor with the mirror at your backs.

“You were telling me how great I was?” He said jokingly.

You chuckled. “Is that what I was doing?”

He smiled.

“You were really cool. I had no idea you could dance like that.”

He nodded. “It’s something I got into more when I moved out here… if you want to hear about it.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, Mingi’s actually from our town and he even went to the same school as us.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t remember him at all.”

“When you stopped talking to me, he came over and sat with me at lunch since his own friends abandoned him for eating too slow and I was alone.”

You nodded.

“He was in a small dance team, and they normally were part of the ensemble dance cast-- that’s how they all met.”

You nodded again.

“So we got to talking during lunch in senior year and we both wanted to move to Seoul, so I joined the dance crew and we came out here and started going to outdoor dance events. People just get together and play music and dance, do dance battles, that kind of stuff.”

“Mhm.”

“We befriended a lot of the dancers-- we were actually working at a convenience store most of them would go to, and… we decided to ask a bunch of them if they wanted to form a new group in Seoul and they did.” He smiled and shrugged.

You nodded again. “Mhm. Dei and Mingi told me about the, uh… bloodless coup? When To The Beat became Wonderland’s permanent dancers.”

He laughed. “That was a little after I had left to pursue acting more seriously.”

“Why didn’t you just stay a dancer?”

He shrugged. “I like acting more, I guess. You know I loved being in plays in school… I want to be on people’s screens.”

You nodded. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to be the lead in the musicals more when we were in school, instead of just dancing.”

“What, singing?”

“Yeah. You were in one after-- in senior year, right?”

He perked up. “Did you see it?”

“You know I wasn’t allowed to go to any,” you laughed awkwardly.

“Oh.” He nodded.

“Also, uh,” you lowered your voice, “we weren’t friends anymore by then.”

He nodded again.

You nodded back and the two of you sat in silence for a few moments as you watch Mingi and everyone else dance.

“I, um…” he started.

You looked at him.

“I didn’t really want to be the lead in that musical.”

“No? Why? You were always a good singer. You’re a real live triple threat.”

He chuckled awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you want to be in it?”

“Um… I never really liked singing in front of others…”

You laughed blithely. “You sang in front of me tons of times.”

“...Yeah.”

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summercourtship · 10 months ago

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a missed meet cute. (edward's pov)

Edward and the reader's first meetings, from his perspective. From ch. 5-6 of Stay to Burn (Only to Drown Instead)- this will not make sense if you haven't read that!! 2687 words. | no warnings

read on ao3 | stay to burn masterpost

Arkham Asylum was both exactly what Edward had expected and nothing he was at all prepared for. When you’ve suffered in one place it was easy to think that all horrible places would make you suffer in the exact same way. And yet, it had somehow been easier to endure the suffering at the orphanage as a child than it was in the asylum as an adult. Maybe it was because when he was an orphan, he knew he could age out or request emancipation (which he had, as soon as he had been able). Here, there would only be escape if he forced it.

But, God, was the asylum boring.

There was hardly anything new going on, no mental stimulation for him to distract himself. He had a crossword from the newspaper (given to him by a sympathetic orderly each week) and a large book of sudoku that one of his previous followers had sent him a few weeks into his stint. He allowed himself to do one puzzle a day, trying to keep the book going as long as possible.

And then he saw her. Passing by a window, a new face in the stale hospital. But not new to him. No, he had seen her before and it only took a few moments to remember that she had been the one standing in front of him at the mayor’s funeral. The one who had let him move in front of her (even though that certainly ruined her view, she was far shorter than him) and gave him a front row seat to the chaos he had created.

When the car had crashed through the building and everyone was escorted out, he’d had half of a mind to find her again. After all, he had overheard her conversation and was interested in the project she was working on. (Because it was about him, that’s what her friend had said, had said that the girl talked about it all the time.)

But, he had other plans with the Batman that day and didn’t have the time to find a random college girl.

However, her friend had left her student ID somewhere clearly visible. A simple glance down at the lanyard and he knew how to find her, her name and student number out in the open for anyone to see. Later, when he was sitting alone and thinking about everything that had happened that day- the rush of his first real interaction with the Batman still coursing through his veins- he remembered her, her friend’s ID flashing behind his eyes as he sat in front of his computer, fingers flying over the keys before he could even think about what he was doing.

The name Marie felt fitting, a sign from a higher power he no longer believed in that he was on the right path.

Once he found Marie, it was easy to find the other girl, the one who mattered. One tag on Instagram and there she was. A small picture on the screen with a witty username and a short description simply stating that she was a student and what she was studying.

And, like a naive blessing, another affirmation that he was on the right path, her profile was public. Not that he couldn’t have gotten past a privacy filter easily. But now he didn’t have to dirty his hands.

He spent a minute or two scrolling through her pictures, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. It was just to solidify her face in his mind. That’s all. (That’s what he told himself. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by a pretty face right now.)

Once he was content with her photos, it was just a few short keystrokes until he had her email address. They really don’t make this information hard to obtain, not when you know how to find it.

He crafted an email then, generating a burner email quickly. This, he knew, could blow up in his face if she wasn’t what he thought she was. And she very well could turn this into the police (not that they, incompetent as they are, could trace it back to him). But he had a gut feeling about her. The way she had leaned forward over the railing, observing everything. The way her friend had described she delved into the research, how she seemed obsessed with it all.

No, he had a good feeling about her.

Normally, he wouldn’t give out the link to his website so casually. He liked that his followers had to work to find it, to prove that they were worthy of his cause. But she wasn't going to be one of his followers, not to the same extent that the others were. He knew that much. She had too much of a head on her shoulders to join a militant online group.

No, she was going to be the one to tell the world about what he was doing, the changes he was going to bring. she would sympathize with his message- karma, her friend had said she’d called it- and do the work of spreading his revelations of truth and justice in Gotham city.

At least, that’s what his fantasy had been. What should have happened if everything had gone to plan. But now he knew that it was foolish to put his trust in others so quickly, to make plans around others actions, especially if he’d never spoken to them. The Batman had taught him that much, the betrayal of his rejection still stinging months after. He had forgotten about the girl after the Flood had failed, his mind occupied elsewhere.

But seeing her on the other side of that glass in Arkham had been like the dove returning to the Ark, the olive branch clutched in its beak a symbol of peace, hope, rebirth. (If his Flood had succeeded, it would be an even more apt parallel but he shouldn't linger on that for too long.)

Ark-ham. Isn't that something?

Edward does not believe in coincidence. There was a reason she was at the mayor’s funeral and there was a reason she was at Arkham now, looking at him from the other hallway.

He stood still, his eyes narrowed slightly, wondering what she was thinking as she examined his face, her eyes wide. She made a movement, stuttering, like her body was trying to bring him closer to him. Then, something drew her attention away from him, a noise from further down her hallway. Edward continued to watch as she turned and hurried down the hallway, his head turning to track her movements.

Then, only a few brief weeks later (the weeks themselves were actually agonizingly long, boring days of doing nothing but trying to engage his mind with whatever was laying around him so he didn’t actually go insane), she appeared again.

This time, he was in his cell, laying on his cot and trying to dull the cacophony of voices from outside his cell. The glass in the cells weren’t soundproof, obviously, so he heard immediately when there was a new noise, his ears pricking up at the sound of the door to the block being unlatched.

He jumped from the cot, moving to the door to see who it could be. The guards weren’t switching yet, and as far as he knew no one had visits to their doctors scheduled for this time of the day. He pressed himself close to the door, peering down to the door.

It was the girl, accompanied by none other than Dr. Crane. The man wasn’t his doctor, but he’d seen him around and had enough small conversations with him to dislike him. (Edward didn’t like seeing you with him. He wondered how you knew him, if you had just met him when you’d- presumably- been hired to the asylum).

He pressed his face against the glass, trying to get a better look at the girl as Dr. Crane led her through the cell block. There was no practical reason for him to bring her here.

As Dr. Crane passed his cell, he gave Edward a side glance, his sharp eyes unreadable as they slowly slid away. But the doctor didn’t stop to say anything, though that insufferable smirk was still on his face. Edward paid him no mind, instead focusing on her.

Her head was craned backwards, examining the skylights and the second floor of cells as she slowly walked through the hall. He pressed himself closer to his door, mentally urging her to look down and see him. His mind was whirring, trying to figure out what he was going to say. Because he knew she would stop to speak with him, there was no way she wouldn’t feel the same draw to him that he did to her.

Finally, she did look down and almost immediately spotted him. Her lips parted, and he could see her inhale, slowly and shakily. But she continued walking, her eyes not leaving him.

Edward was now overthinking, knowing that if she did stop- and she would stop- he would have to start the conversation. (He’d never been good at starting conversations with girls. Or with anyone, really. It was a side effect, he told himself, of not speaking to anyone until he was ten even though he was perfectly capable of it. He hadn’t had the practice.)

What on earth was he supposed to say? Small talk was boring and would sound wrong coming from his mouth. He needed to say something that would grab her attention, that would keep her standing in front of him for as long as possible.

And then, she did stop. He withdrew from the glass, ignoring the fog from his breath. He couldn’t help but feel vindicated that he was right. And then, like he had planned it all along, he said the first thing he could think of.

“I know you.”

“What?” She took a step backwards, her pulse visibly jumping in her neck. He tried not to focus on it. “No, I was here a couple of weeks ago, you might’ve seen me then and-”

“No.” He knew it was irrational to expect her to remember him from City Hall. But still, how did she not remember his face when she had looked up into it and allowed him to step around her, how had she not made the connection when he was caught only a few days later? He realized, then, that he might have to hold her hand a bit. Metaphorically, of course. (For now). “You were there, in City Hall.”

It was satisfying to see the sudden recognition in her eyes, the flurry of emotions that crossed her expression. Confusion, fear, disbelief.

“Oh my god.”

“Karma, right?” And then, because he couldn’t help himself and he simply needed to know, he asked: “How’d that project go?”

“I never-” She shook her head, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s really none of your business.”

He stared at her, suddenly aware that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t like him. He couldn’t fathom why, considering the fact that she had apparently been on his side during his cleansing of Gotham’s corruption.

Then, like a snake, Dr. Crane appeared in his periphery, making his way back to the girl, though he was temporarily distracted by the clown. The girl either hadn’t realized it or was ignoring it in favor of continuing to glare at Edward. He looked over at Dr. Crane, the smile wiped off of his face at the reminder that this conversation was only fleeting and he only had a few more moments of the girl’s undivided attention. Slowly, Edward turned back to her, raising his eyebrows as the riddle formed itself in his mind. Something to keep her occupied.

A breadcrumb.

“What has a long neck, a name of a bird, feeds on ships' cargo, but is not alive?”

He could see her temporary disbelief that she was just asked a riddle. Probably thinking that he was living up to his name, or something like that. But then her eyebrows furrowed, a little crease forming in between them as she tried to figure out exactly what he meant.

The realization of the answer was clear on her face at the exact same moment that Dr. Crane slithered behind her. Edward didn’t miss how his hand found its way to her back, watching the movement with feigned disinterest.

The fact that the girl and the doctor were involved in some way would make this all a lot more interesting. And, he supposed, painful for you once you found out about Dr. Crane.

“Edward.” Oh, how he hated when Dr. Crane said his name. But then the doctor introduced her, as if Edward didn’t already know who she was. But Dr. Crane didn’t know that, of course. “This is my new assistant.”

At the sound of her own name, she whipped around to look at the doctor before back at Edward.

Edward repeated her name, slowly, like he was tasting it on his tongue (and he was- he had never said it out loud before, he’d never had a reason to). He was keenly aware that Dr. Crane was watching her, how her eyes widened and her breath stuttered for a brief moment.

Was she afraid of him? He wasn’t sure how to feel about that- part of him liked that he had any effect on her at all. It certainly felt better than his earlier assumption that she simply disliked him. After all, fear is better than indifference. He could work with fear, could use it to his advantage.

But on the other hand, he knew what Dr. Crane was doing down in the basement. For someone of Edward’s intelligence and perception, it would be hard to not know when half of his patients came back from treatment more delirious and paranoid than before, when those weren’t even symptoms they had exhibited before their sessions. Dr. Crane made his unethical behavior so obvious and yet no one in the asylum cared.

Well, no one that could do anything about it. Until now, with her sudden appearance as Arkham’s newest employee.

“We’ve met before.” Again, he couldn’t help himself.

“I wouldn’t call that meeting.” She was quick to dispute him. Of course, she wouldn’t think much of their brief encounter at the mayor’s funeral because she didn’t know what happened after. All of the work he had put into finding her, all of the imagined plans he had for her. For her, it was just an eventful afternoon that she was probably happy to put behind her.

“I suppose you wouldn’t.” But now it was everything to Edward. He could see her struggling to figure out the hidden meaning in his words. He wouldn’t help her, no, she was smart enough to figure it out. (He liked the way her eyes narrowed at him. Maybe he could work with her disliking him as well.)

Then, crushingly, coldly, she turned to Dr. Crane. “Can we go now?”

They left without saying goodbye. Of course they did, why would they say goodbye to him? But still, Edward pressed his hand against the glass, as if he could reach out and bring her back.

Like she could sense him staring at her, she turned back to look at him. He realized his hand must look like it was raised in a wave. But she didn’t return it, instead facing away from him again and continuing to follow Dr. Crane out of the cell block.

With a high squeak, his palm slipped off of the glass as he inhaled deeply, stepping away from the door and away from the prying eyes of the other inmates.

For the first time since he’d entered the asylum, he had something to occupy his thoughts. Plans, a vision of the way out forming in his mind. He wasn’t sure when he’d see you again, but he was sure it would be sooner rather than later.

After all, it seemed that fate was finally on his side.

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#stbotdi #ed #edward nashton x reader #edward nygma x reader #riddler x reader #stay to burn verse #my writing #my fic #i have a feeling these alternate pov one shots will expose how much thought i've put into this fic

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