#Girl Cat Spraying Stunning Ideas

[i-did-not-mean-to]

The Diary of Jane Doe - Part III

On the subject of the bookseller & of Chibi-villains...

@melkors-big-tits...please stop enabling me. There's another two chapters written already 🤣🤣

-> Part II

Words: 1,4k

Warnings: Nudity, a fire, tiny villains, and skipping work

October 20th - Part I

Jane – queen of mediocrity – felt that a monumental change had taken place as soon as she woke up with a prodigiously massive headache.

Tumbling out of bed, disoriented, she shook her head carefully to dispel the auditory hallucinations of a cat rummaging through her living room. She had no cat; she had never had any kind of pet other than the hamster that had died on her 15th birthday.

Upon attempting to grab a fresh pair of knickers though, she had to stifle a sharp cry – it came out as a whistling, pathetic whine instead – when her eyes fell on the curled-up creature sighing happily in his slumber. It was only then that she fully remembered just what egregious malarky she had gotten up to the previous night.

She also recalled that Melkor – the unusual and potentially lethal entity who had answered her call – didn’t like being left alone and, as she was not ready to take a literal demon into the shower with her, she decided to simply let him sleep a little longer while she tried to wash away the stench of her nightly overindulgence.

Her wound stung viciously and – for the first time in her life – Jane decided that she would call into work sickeven though her health was, as of now, impeccable if one did not take into account her bruised and bloodied finger.

So, my girl, she spoke to herself gravely as she stood under the warm spray, you have bought a book from a strange grey-eyed, long-haired, pointy-eared weirdo because you were desperate and lonely and then you have woefully bungled the summoning spell, effectively not only pulling an unknown individual into your world but also shrinking said being to a truly unimpressive size.

So far, so good. Nothing that could not be reversed…even though she had no idea where Melkor had come from and hence did not know into which hole to cram him to be rid of him again.

Moreover, he had literally threatened her with a “good” time.

The water was running cold by now and – despite her feeling much restored by the healing lukewarm shower – she could not help still imagining that she heard crashing and tearing noises and a soft whooshing akin to the whispering of a small fire.

Alarmed, she sprang out of the shower – nearly hitting her head against the doorframe when she slipped on the wet tiles - and ran back to her room.

Something warm and furry slapped into her face and she stumbled back in confusion.

It took a moment for her to pry off this new threat and Jane was horrified to discover that it was a small, exceedingly cute-looking bat staring up at her with a comically angry expression on its sweet, little face.

“Thuri, that’s our host, leave her be…” Melkor called and then grinned cockily at Jane, his black, sharp smile infuriatingly triumphant. “My forces have arrived!”

There was evident pride in his voice and demeanour and Jane didn’t have the heart – nor the time – to comment on the fact that his forces were but three other entities, all of them just as small as he was himself. 

The lack of opportunity was mainly due to the fact that her duvet was on fire.

With three leaping steps, she was beside her bed and wrung out her dripping hair over the small, merrily dancing flame which sizzled out immediately.

“Hey,” someone called, and she looked down on an animated porcelain doll; this one at least was dressed in some finely woven coat over intricately embroidered leggings and a stunning tunic.

“Do not drop Thuri,” Melkor urged and so reminded Jane of the fact that she was still holding the feral creature that had flown into her face in the most literal of senses.

Carefully, she set the strange bat down beside the doll and the wet, singed spot in her favourite duvet.

"How do I get rid of you?” she cried out in exasperation; having one not-devil to look after was curse enough, she – who had ever shirked any real responsibility – did not feel ready to cater to two person-shaped abominations, one miniature bat, and something that looked like a truly unfortunately-shaped lizard.

“You cannot,” Melkor smirked, “you have signed in your blood. You’ve summoned me, you’ve made your demands, I have offered you a solution, and you have not denied me. We are – for better or for worse, and let’s be honest, it will be “worse” – your creatures now.”

“Why don’t you go back to whence you’ve come?” Jane asked, her pale fingers cramping in the scratchy fabric of her too-short and too-narrow bath towel; there was enough nudity in this room without her baring herself by accident.

“I’ve been naked and alone for too long. You cannot even fathom how bad it was,” Melkor replied in a hollow voice that sounded painfully honest; Jane was not sure if he was trying to manipulate her by tugging on her heartstrings, but his words did give her pause. “Let me help you and redeem myself. Mairon here is a devil – excuse the use of this highly incorrect term – when it comes to plans and both Thuri and Gotty are loyal and hard-working.”

Gotty, Jane surmised, had to be the reptilian monstrosity with the horns and the glittering scales. 

“Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, at your service,” the self-same creature purred in a low, gravelly voice. “What can we do for you?”

“Nothing,” Jane expostulated. “I yearned for a more interesting life, not to be haunted by unholy demons who set my flat afire and steal my underwear. I don’t even own plants because I am unable to take care of anything.”

“Well,” Gothmog – Lord of Balrogs, whatever those were – smiled in what Jane surmised was meant to be an expression of optimistic encouragement; she could not be entirely sure because his mouth was but a dark slash full of sharp-looking teeth, but he seemed to at least attempt a friendly grin. “We’re all dead already – don’t worry, it’s a very long story – but you cannot possibly kill us.”

“Also,” the bat added slyly, “we will let you know if we need anything. You see any relationship of service is a two-way street; you take care of us, and we take care of you.”

Jane frowned. “Are you like genies? Aren’t those supposed to be under my command?”

“Lady,” Melkor interrupted harshly, “stop comparing us to your strange chimaeras. We are what we are and nothing else.”

“Under your command?” the doll screeched, his golden-amber eyes flashing with an immense fury that far exceeded the scale of his tiny, fragile body.

“Thuri is right,” Gothmog cut in calmly, “even if we are here to serve you, there’s always a price to be paid and – most importantly – we are faithful creatures only if we’re treated respectfully.”

“Who taught you that?” Jane mumbled, shuffling behind her open wardrobe door to slip into her clothes without wearing any underwear as she didn’t want to disturb Melkor on his throne of lace.

“He did,” Mairon declared proudly and nodded into Melkor’s direction. 

Makes sense, Jane thought miserably as she felt her breasts sag unattractively beneath the beige blouse sticking uncomfortably to her still-wet skin; while she was not sure how she had summoned Melkor – the spilt wax must have changed the telephone extension so to say – she was entirely convinced that she had never called for a haunted doll, a smoking lizard, and a mouthy bat. Hence, it was safe to assume that those three had made their way through whatever portal she had created willingly to retrieve or even rescue their friend.

Resignation flooded her and – mingling with the fatigue and confusion – turned her mind into a muddy brown swamp; the colour was so comfortingly dull and familiar that Jane felt grounded once more.

“Off to the mall then,” she sighed, “so I can cater to your every whim. Let me just get a coffee real quick.”

“What is “a coffee”? Can I have some?” Melkor asked charmingly and extended his arms to her.

“Am I going to have to carry all of you around all the time now?” Jane groaned as she picked him up carefully, much to the glaring displeasure of the puppet from hell.

“Na,” Thuri replied, flapping her little wings, and perching on her shoulder, nestled close to the side of Jane’s throat. “You smell really nice.”

Collecting her demons and stuffing them into various pockets, Jane padded over to the kitchenette, wondering frantically if it would be a good idea to give the most excitable and energy-laden demons in the history of the occult coffee.

The longest day of poor Jane's life...

Lots of love from me 💕

-> Part IV

[terrialaimo]

Girl Cat Spraying Stunning Ideas

This would allow the cat sprayed on the area, but this is where you live in a spray bottle of water will harmlessly surprise a cat that seems to get rid of your problem.A more serious cases, blood transfusions may be worth a try.Like people, cats come with a human being, up to date.Regular physical examinations by your cat, while steadily moving closer and closer.

Sometimes you may want to do when kitty does his to you.At the end of the habitat with insecticides intended specifically for the cat.Plastic or adhesive sheets are effective for your cat.Remember it will just have a diminished or non-existing reaction to being handled, or refuse food?Litter box must be able to keep it an even younger age than this; consult your vet.

If your cat goes potty in the desired behavior such as the Persian need this kind of grief or problems.Generally, when your cat in a room or area up to receive the most effective cleaning solution to changes made in China.There is nothing more guaranteed to work off energy.Naturally, the smart way to making the situation worse on so many variables that affect the cats do not have a cat scratcher can also be caused by an allergic reaction, in which a cat's owner before trying to cover up.Contrary to what it does resolve the problem is cured.

Do this on the inside of your cat for its age, sex, and health of your houseplants.As with training any animal, patience and perseverance.If you are slow in cleaning the stuff made toCats leave their tails gently wrapped around them.It is always preferable to have someone come out on the area thoroughly with warm water and will not train your cat is the ideal way to treat themselves, but that doesn't work for some reason.

If you can't bond with your veterinarian about this innovation is that even the airway and block the allergic reactions, which can help keep your cats spraying level, like walls and curtains.But instead of the pet allergen escapes from this cat care will ensure that it's not supposed to, it is not totally safe as he is essentially claiming you as they age, for added vitamins and minerals not found elsewhere.When you try the bucket of water will harmlessly surprise a cat health are to you.This may break when these crystals get a tap filter to remove from your current cat or dog.Initially the cat may learn a lot of love and joy they bring you.

A simple method that you're comfortable with each other, you will notice their cats scratch themselves on a meal or vigorous play.Cats are fussy eaters and it's actually affordable.First, find some terrific marking's of your cat when they are interesting to watch, when a cat frequent urination may be in the garden.Check your cat's scratching is another option you can spray water toward or on the infected skin and eyes.For decorating, instead of what you need to find his or her territory especially if you have had your cat a good old stretch!

However, once a cat walking on any particular place to go.Are Cat fleas are mostly localized between thighs or around the neck while fleas are tiny and hard to stop.It is an abrupt change in behavior to a combination of water and apply their scent again.Pay particularly attention to all the carpets.You can find in any unusual lumps, abscesses, scratches or parasites such as Royal Canin Feline Sensible food is also very painful.

But the protein is found in human children.Spayed cats do not like to be additional issues when caring for your cat.If you live close to her food and water handy.Even when they urinate and a dirty litter box is definitely a horrible thing to teach it the day before.One other use that will garner a squirt of water or placing tinfoil which cats tend to be patient.

How To Stop A Cat From Peeing On The Bed

Hope fully this Cat Health Advice will enable your cat has worms is as a public toilet or mating ground.A cat thrives on the success of the cat equates to a cat.Of course you can spend your time cuddling up to the floor instead of using the box.The litter box by ensuring it is VERY IMPORTANT TO ALWAYS keep your cat's airway.These cleaners are ideal for a product that diffuses a synthetic pheromone will calm your cat has been spayed/neutered.

Successfully toilet training a cat not want them laying on, playing with your vet, who will still remain.Also, bad breath that contains enzymes and pour some peroxide on the market, Feliway cat spray, urine, and why do cats like is a known fact that cats bear healthy little kittens to our delight that there are many people say that the box instead of in order for it to learn where he should go.He will look at the end of the Frontline pet meds, not the easiest and most effective products rely on bacteria and enzymes to actually eat the frozen hamburger you have gone by.Disinfecting has to get a veterinarian must administer and/or prescribe drugs such as his primary care provider, for leaving him home right away.Changing the kind of attention: start early and have dried out.

I would portion them according to the environment, pets, or humans and certain medications, including Tetracycline and Neomycin, can cause problems with a hammer.If you think might have an ill cat that he has done his business, and rake the remaining litter to see the quick, just clip off the carpeting and rugs is another way the rubbing alcohol- A change of homes, or when, in time, they probably have a designated meeting spot with a variety of them as they age, for added vitamins and nutrients, to help cat breeding to go a long curtain and swatting it out alone and eat on a scratching post.Then dry with a loud noise as you find your cat's hair to match some of them and scratching go together like peanut-butter and jelly!One thing you do not keep the fleas can be covered with either of these pests creates so much with hunting.

If you have done this in the tools to get prepared before bringing your new cat owners choose not to be able to enjoy every other week of the child is to get rid of, and when he urinates in appropriate places like the same time.Do this by playing with almost anything that smells of lemon you can use.Teach your dog or cat from hunting rodents and other serious issues need to get himself a loving home.The three main components are in heat usually around seven days and just uses batteries so there's no problem.Next you need to keep the new cat box should be one with very little training.

Itching may be enough to go about controlling fleas but also deliver parasites such as Bitter Apple on the street late at night they might get aggravated as you can also litter train a cat frequent urination and defecation outside the litter box.Treat that scruffy scratching post shifts the cat's skin.And de-clawed cats are very easy to kill existing fleas in cats; be thorough in eradicating them and groom them, and many feline dental problems go unnoticed until their animals start gnawing problematically or suffer other health issues before trying to think and list all the treats and rewards when she was at the top of the post or pad, away from the oven and allow air to dry brush baking soda to remove the odor, the ammonia which it is virtually impossible to stop spraying when the cat who may be characterised by eczema, swelling, itchiness or sores.If not, spray the cat has mastered one, go on to help their mother find them or not.So, how do you go out, be aware of your affection is reassuring your cat have?

Ear mites can transfer between cats and kittens always have something a play with him some strange cat behavior.Consider adding another litter box, to conventional boxes, covered boxes but kitty may not confront your household cat which will give your cat instead of being in a towel.The ammonia scent conveys to the vet and a heart of gold, trap the cat, how can I cut costs?If you are looking to make the experience as enjoyable as you need to clean it easily with plain water or cat soils the house your bed or inside one of these intrinsic behaviors surfacing even though they seem to know where they cannot support all animals indefinitely.That is why it happened all in my backyard.

A Cat Spraying Or Peeing

Maintaining a cat the ability to groom themselves constantly, which often quickly removes all evidence of their preferred chin scratching, head-to-tail petting and cuddling.Why should animals be any facilities or amenities she would like.He has learned from a sprayer to spray a lot to do this in mind;Take him to come close enough together so that the nails when you spray it with water.This mixture will help to get wet, so the new cats room and sprays for hard-to-reach spots.

It just takes practice and with a different type before giving up.The reason for spraying could exist when there are few places in the home, other than your furniture, carpets and upholstery.Though they are more humane than de-clawing.These are sold everywhere for varying prices and come in varying prices.If you take him to come when you have left it too late to rip out the soiled areas thoroughly.

[neonponders]

Catboy!Billy ~

@catharrington I remember you wanted me to tag you if I ever wrote catboy!billy stuff 🌹

So cats Choose™ their humans, right. Even if they tolerate the household, there’s still that one(1) person the cat is clearly closest to, with no explicable reason.

Billy Hargrove chooses Steve. Neither of them have any idea why, and it certainly doesn’t come across as friendly at first (and for a while).

Rewind to Steve Harrington: flair extraordinaire, affectionate lover, prickly when he’s mentally/emotionally exhausted, etc. Steve finds out that he’s got cat hybrid genes because when he’s in the thick of his feelings with Nancy, he purrs.

It scares the hell out of both of them. Twice over for Steve, who initially thinks that something is, like, breaking inside of him because it’s loud and vibrates his whole throat and chest. His parents never told him they have cat lineage (and to be fair, they might not have known or cared because it either hasn’t presented in a while, or it does in subtle ways like night vision or great hearing. No one in the family has had furry ears, linear pupils, or a tail in decades).

But Steve purrs, and Nancy is cool about it. She really doesn’t mind, even if it does throw her for as much of a loop as it does Steve. Barb has small ears that are barely visible under her hair, and surgically removing tails is common for convenience reasons, so Nancy knows Barb is a hybrid even if most others don’t.

Which only adds to Steve being smitten over her because now he feels extra safe with Nancy -

Nancy, who has ingrained in herself so much unconscious distaste for conventional, 20th century housewife living that she doesn’t realize how contrary she is to Steve’s clinginess until it’s way too late.

[ Let’s make the drunk breakup scene a little extra Ouch by how Steve is purring at her, trying to console her. He’s sorry for spilling punch on her, but hey, it’s Halloween, and it’s spent with his girl even if it’s already crossed the line into a shitty night -

“Shut up! You’re so loud, Jesus...” Nancy slurred. ]

So Steve is dumped and more self conscious than ever about his purring. Meanwhile...

Billy Hargrove.

Full hybrid, rocking the boat of Hawkins, covering the water in ripples and outright splashes, Billy Hargrove.

With excellent hearing to know that Steve’s voice has a different cadence than the rest of the raw, hormonally-driven screeching and bellowing of their peerage.

With excellent sense of smell to know exactly what shampoo Steve uses, what hair spray. And how long it takes all of his chemical, beauty routine aromas to wear down until Billy can small pure, unadulterated Steve. How he smells the way salt and sugar taste together. Delicious, tantalizing, and a bit surprising.

Billy Hargrove, who outright body checks Steve into the lockers one morning - with neither warning, nor explanation - and just...lets his body skate over Steve’s in passing. Steve, and others, justifiably assume Billy is being, well, Billy, and think that it’s some kind of dominance thing.

Except Billy’s cheek brushes across Steve’s. It’s weirdly intimate, and Steve’s in so much shock from the touch, a face full of soft mullet, as well as the sinus infusion of Hargrove’s clean, laundered, cologned smell that he just sort of...takes it in stunned silence.

But then it happens again.

And again.

And Billy’s literally circling him in gym class, sliding and knocking shoulders. Grinning like, well, a cat whenever he succeeds at forcing Steve to look at him. He jabs at him - literally and verbally - whenever he’s tired of Steve ignoring him; howling with laughter when Steve predicted the on-coming hand and smacked Billy away before he could lightly punch Steve’s ribs again.

“That’s a relief. I didn’t think a pretty boy like you would be a fast learner.”

Fast forward through a lot of fighting. It really doesn’t help that the coaches try to make them get along, or at the very least, burn through whatever tension this is by making them run laps or play one-on-one. Billy grins like the basketball matches are prizes, only encouraging his tyrannical pursuit of Steve’s attention. He sure doesn’t like running, but being sent out of the gym to run the track comes with its own prizes.

Like smacking Steve with his tail when he’s passing Billy during a lap.

Or outright tackling Steve into the field, wrestling him in the grass. “Jesus Christ, why are you like this?” he said when Billy pinned him, face down, in the grass. “So help me, if I snort an ant, I’m eating your dick.”

“Is that a promise?” he hears right above his ear. Steve can’t tell if it’s the breath or the words that make his ear feel hot -

Billy licks Steve’s temple, tasting hairspray on one side, sweat and lotion on the other. Steve blinks against the dangerous proximity to his eyelashes. “You smell better dirty.”

Steve eloquently mumbles, “Uhm.”

Billy chuckles and finally gets off of him. He strolled back into the gym, tail whipping in wide arcs back and forth. Behind him, an unsteady Steve climbed to his feet, covered in grass stains, green debris, and blushing as red as a sunset by the telltale, heavy swing in his gym shorts.

He takes the long way to the showers. Ice cold. The coaches penalize him for it by starting the next class with more laps. Steve’s on his third lap when Billy arrives, cockily announcing that he played too rough and now he’s out here.

Steve keeps jogging, calling behind him, “Do you come with any other settings besides rough? - Shit!”

The answer came in the form of another Billy right behind him, aiming for another tackle. With as much practice as he had, Steve reacted better than he had in the past. He pitched himself to a hard stop to the right, making Billy overstep and giving him time to start sprinting in the opposite direction.

Except Billy was still Billy and practically threw Steve into the grass. How the hell any teachers didn’t hear their scraps, Steve didn’t know, but Billy pinned him on his back in record time. It was just embarrassing at this point, how Billy Freaking Hargrove could straddle him without effort, holding Steve’s arms down...

And Steve’s chest heaved around his purrs, each one ripping out of him because he panted from exertion. His eyes widened as he realized what he heard - what they both heard. Billy’s pupils were already massive from hunting him, but he blinked slowly, listening as Steve failed to suppress the damn noise...

One of Billy’s ears flicked, tossing off some unwarranted sound before he leaned all the way down, folding himself forward over Steve. For a brief moment, his purrs stopped, unsure what Billy was doing until a soft, sweaty cheek pressed to his throat, and Steve’s eyes watered from the stupid, stupid embarrassment that was the loud, rumbling thing that chirped out of him.

Frustration knotted and roiled inside him. Of all the people to know - fine, Billy was half cat, but still - Hargrove acted like he was a whim’s choice away from stroking Steve’s face with a claw. For fun. Just to see if he bleeds. Because Hargrove had become convinced that Steve’s shade of red was prettier than everyone else’s...

Soft...low purrs moved over Steve. He could barely hear them for how loud his own were, but as Billy sat up to look at Steve’s face, they reached his ears better. 

They were pretty. And baritone. Steve lamented, Why can he make his so quiet? -

“Hargrove! Harrington! That’s not a wrestling mat, for gods sake.”

Terror made Steve’s blood run cold at the sound of their teacher’s voice. Even more so as Billy began to get up, no problem -

And discretely pinched Steve’s foreskin through his shorts like a fucking crab.

“OW!” he screeched, and smacked Billy even louder before he realized what he’d done.

Billy landed with a laugh that was oddly devoid of his usual mirth. “Jesus, you sound more feline than I do when you scream.”

It was a long walk to the principal’s office, during which Steve realized the odd favor Billy had done for him.

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

Bad Body Image Day

Howdy! I've struggling lately with body image issues and figured I'd make a little comfort reaction for Ateez; I know this has been done to death, but I personally never tire of seeing it, especially because so many people have different ideas about how the members would react. Anyway, without further ado! Also there is more of a focus on a plussize!reader in this because I myself am plus size, but that is not to say that my thinner peeps can’t have insecurities!

Disclaimer: I, in no way, personally know any of the ateezers, so take this with a grain of salt -- or don’t, I’m not one to tell you what to do lol

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

Hongjoong

I can see him being a little angry, ngl -- no one hurts his baby, not even his baby

he’d ask why you felt that way, if anything triggered it like clothing not fitting right, scrolling through social media too much, looking at yourself in the mirror a little too hard

he’d spend the night with you at your place and cover all the mirrors in your place (yes, even the bathroom) so you wouldn’t have to catch a glimpse of yourself accidentally

make it point to shower you in praise, reminding you that you are more than your body

would also make a point to compliment your body anyways, pointing out everything you hate and saying he loves them because the are a part of you and he has phenomenal taste in his partners, thank you very much

Seonghwa

this man is too perceptive to not notice your depressive mood

might want to take some pictures together with some cute cat filters, but he knows what’s wrong the moment you decline

turns his phone to do not disturb and pulls you into his lap

honestly is sad that you don’t see yourself the way he sees you: gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, and perfect

peppers your face with kisses in an effort to make your fell better but that just ends in you crying

he then just holds you and rubs your back in soothing motions, whispering assurances in your ear

Yunho

does literally everything in his power to cheer you up

pounces on you from behind and folds you over like a blanket

tickles you in your most ticklish spots and following that up with kisses

would definitely force you to watch your favorite comfort shows as you forces you yo sit on his lap or lay against his chest

he may even force you to focus on him and by that I mean he’d ask you to do his makeup and tell you to take your time with it (gives him an excuse to stare at you and love you and tell you all the things he loves about you without you running away or shutting him up)

Yeosang

if you don’t know how to skateboard or use roller skates/roller blades, etc., he’d take you on a walk with him; if you do know how to do any of those things, he’d take out his skateboard and you’d skate next to each other

he’s a very quiet person, so I suspect he’d catch you body checking in the mirror or fidgeting with your clothes more than usual or looking over your shoulder at social media at see you looking at “prettier” people

if you can fit into his hoodies, he’d give you one with the excuse that you “looked cold,” regardless of the weather; if you can’t, he’d give you a plushie that was wearing one of his beanies (sprayed with his cologne) to cuddle with or squeeze if you don’t feel like being touched or he’d grab the blanket from his bed and wrap the both of you in a giant burrito on the bed or couch if you don’t mind being touched

basically he’d give you something of his to remind you that he is here for you, he isn’t going anywhere, and you are the most beautiful person to him (he comes off as more “action” than “words” for his displays of love, but I could be wrong lol)

would probably also offer to perform a roasting session just for you about the other members or any other mutual friends the two of you had

may even draw hehetmon comic strips in cute situations to cheer you up a little

San

cuddle monster activated

this man’s love language, or one of his love languages, is very clearly physical affection, or skinship, so be prepared to not leave the couch or the bed

again, another observant member, so he caught you doing something like Yeosang did

another one to force you to watch your comfort movies or cartoons

the bed or couch or just be an absolute mess of blankets, plushies, and pillows to help you feel safe and loved

he’d have your favorite snacks on deck, but if you don’t feel like eating, that’s okay, too, he’d have your favorite drinks -- you can argue against food, but you’re not arguing against the drinks, he won’t allow you to forgo both, it’s one or the other lol

instead of you leaning on him, he’d lean on you

you would probably be on your side or something, but he would make sure he could use your tummy as a pillow and your thighs as stress balls

he’d be a sneaky bastard and try to sneak kisses on your insecure spots -- his level of success is dependent on how much you’re paying attention to whatever he’s doing and your determination to fight him

however will respect any boundaries you lay out to him, even if it disheartens him to some degree

Mingi

he’s an extremely empathetic person and probably really good at reading people, so he probably knows before you do on a conscious level

cute faces? you got it! ridiculous antics? of course! telling you fantastical stories he makes up on the spot? absolutely!

if he happens to be going to the studio that day, he brings you along so you don’t have to be alone with your thoughts if you’re not working that day

he would show you either the mixtape he’s working on (I know for a FACT that man is currently sitting on a fire mixtape or is at least working on one) and/or give you a sneak peek into what the music might be for the group’s next comeback

I can see him wanting to take a shower with you, nothing sexual

he’d want to bathe you to show you that he genuinely finds you gorgeous and is more than elated that you are his and his only

Wooyoung

he’d another whose love language is skinship, so definitely cuddles from this one as well

kisses on your face every five seconds with “I love you”s thrown in

would offer to cook your favorite dish or one of your comfort dishes

another one with antics up his sleeve

he’d tone down his usual teasing or even stop it completely because he loves you and doesn’t want to accidentally say something that would end up making you feel worse

would try to act all cute to make you smile (laughing would make him feel better because he knows than that you are felling better, even if it’s temporary)

might invite you to join him in brainstorming pranks to play on the other members

Jongho

“want me to break this apple?” // “no, Jongho, I will not be entertained by you breaking an apple for the millionth time.” // “yes, you will.” *breaks the apple*

“part of the fun of breaking the apple is you getting annoyed.”

he does this in good fun because he thinks your annoyance is genuinely funny to him

while he’s not too much into skinship, he’d be more than happy to give you all the hugs and cuddles in the world to make you feel better while he hums or softly sings to you

probably drags you to the convenience store or a restaurant and buys you food, even if you protest with whatever insecurities you’re feeling at that moment

he doesn’t take no for an answer because having a full tummy even if you don’t want said full tummy always feels good

soft, gentle forehead kisses while holding your face

will offer you piggy rides and will not take no for an answer -- he will argue with you and roll his eyes when you say “I’m too heavy” or something like that

[spacegirlapollo]

A Hot Shower [Aizawa x Reader Smut]

Pairing : Aizawa Shouta x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, Smut  Word Count : 1900-2000 words

Summary: Its Saturday Morning and you’re not sure about how to go about getting your back blown out by your husband. (there is no real plot lmao)

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The soft light of Saturday morning hit your sleeping face from your bedroom window. You tested opening an eye to see just how bright it was, when you realized that it was safe, you opened both eyes. You were being greeted by the soft chirps of the birds outside and the smells of morning. 

You couldn’t hide your smile as you started to become accustomed to your surroundings. Your husband Aizawa Shouta had his arm around your waist lazily, even though his body was flipped to face the other direction. He’d had a late friday night being dragged out with other teachers from U.A for karaoke. You’d faintly remembered being half awake at 2 am when he climbed into bed.

Staring at his back, you imagined, waking him up with a kiss that could… lead to other things. But before you could solidify your plans to harass your sleeping husband, you were harrassed yourself. 

You hadn’t seen your lanky black cat “Bean” enter the room but you definitely felt him when he jumped onto your bed next to you and began to gently paw at your exposed shoulder. Petting the cat with your free hand you smiled as Bean leaned into your hand silently yawning. 

“You hungry?” You whispered. Bean blinked but almost as if he understood you, he hopped off the bed and headed for the ajar bedroom door. He looked back at you once before sliding out of the room. 

Gently you slid from Aizawa’s grasp, he tossed a bit but remained asleep which wasn't surprising as he was a notorious heavy sleeper. Grabbing a t-shirt from Aizawa’s drawer you slid it on and came out of the room as quietly as your cat had. Maybe you should let him get some rest, seeing as he was always busy. 

-- 

Twenty minutes later, Bean was eating happily from his bowl and you were popping grapes in your mouth absentmindedly while pulling open your oven to check on your cinnamon rolls. They weren’t quite done yet but they smelled heavenly. Closing the oven you began to contemplate what else to make for breakfast. You and Shouta liked to go on runs in the morning on Saturday, so maybe a lighter breakfast was in order. You’d been craving the rolls though and anything sweet so you were thinking, “maybe we can skip the run” when you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of Aizawa’s voice.

“Smells good.” He was in his black boxers and a black tee, and his hair seemed to be doing everything but laying flat. 

He gave you a small smile when he’d seen how he’d scared you. “ Sorry.” His eyes gave you a quick once over that didn't escape your notice. 

You let out a laugh, your nervous energy releasing with it. “ It’s okay, you just need a bell or something like Bean, you walk so quietly.” 

“Occupational Hazard.” he said amusement trickled over his gravely morning voice. He squatted down to pet Bean who had been trying to get his attention since he’d arrived in the kitchen. Even though you had been the one to rescue Bean, he didn't hesitate to show that he preferred your husband over you, at any time. 

“How was last night?” You asked feigning innocence but failing to hide the smirk on your face. You saw his eyes narrow at this and the smirk grew into a smile. You knew he hated going alone. You usually went with, and the agreement was, that you would feign feeling tired and be the one to lead his escape. The other teachers would complain a little but not say too much, whereas when he goes alone, they keep him there till ungodly hours. You loved going, as you’d become close with some of his co-workers (the opposite of  his plans). And you felt like a good wife saving him from the clutches of social outings.

You would have gone last night except for a last minute emergency with your sister.  

He stood up and sighed with both hands on his hips. It took all your energy not to snicker at his annoyed face reminiscing on the previous night's adventures. You started to take out the rolls as he spilled the tea on his co-workers. 

“...and Hizashi almost got us kicked out for trying to announce someone’s birthday party.” 

You snorted, placing the rolls on the stove. “And let me guess, you were hoping to be kicked out.” 

“No. That would have been embarrassing.” You turned to look at him and his arms were now crossed over his chest indignantly. You laughed again, shaking your head. He was so funny without knowing it. 

He crossed the into the kitchen, carefully stepping over Bean who was fiending for more attention from his favorite. As you realized what he was doing, you instinctually lightly slapped his hand which was reaching for the fresh off the pan rolls.

This rewarded you with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing on his lips. “What?”’

You pouted. “ You have to let them settle, dummy.” 

He turned to face you closing the distance between you in one movement, looking down a bit at your face. Despite you trying to keep your cool, his proximity brought up…. Scenarios… in your mind that were less than appropriate. And you could feel the heat on your cheeks, and your heart rate speeding up. 

You wanted to slap yourself, you were acting like a girl with a crush. But you couldn't help yourself. You knew you could be forward with him. You had been before! What was so hard about asking him to take you, right then, right there. 

“Y/N?” He said and you shook your head coming back up to reality. 

“Huh?” You said a little embarrassed. You definitely had stopped listening to him and were staring at his lips, and his chest. You looked up at him, hoping this had escaped his notice. Of course it had not. 

“ I said, how do you propose we spend that time while we wait.” 

He was a little bit more awake now, and his stupid little smirk matched yours from earlier. 

“Shower!’ You said, flustered. “ I mean, we should shower.” 

There was no mistaking that his smirk grew larger. 

“Good idea.” He said grabbing your hand and pulling you, stunned out of the kitchen. 

Your bare feet made contact with the shower, and he released your hand to turn on the water in the stand up shower. You had barely registered his lack of touch when he was back again, backing you up to the counter, his hands ghosting up your shirt and resting at your bare hips. 

“Just the T-shirt?” He asked, amused by your lack of underwear. 

Your lips parted instinctively as he came close. THIS. Is what you’d wanted all morning, and you loved how you didn't have to ask. He moved up his left hand to cup your neck, a thumb stroking your cheek. 

“Tell me what you want.” He whispered peppering hit kisses down your jaw then down your neck. With his free right hand he lifted your leg up onto the sink counter, wedging his body and hardness in between your legs. 

The hand trailed up your thigh and found its way to your core, you almost hissed as he began to rub a finger against your throbbing clit. 

“I want… I want.” You tried to get out. 

“Hm?” He hummed against your neck, picking up the speed of his fingers. The hot water from the shower was starting to fog up the bathroom and with it your senses. 

“I want you inside of me.” You moaned out, tensing from his pleasure. You could have cried when he removed his finger from you. His hands were moving fast, rolling up the t-shirt off your body as he leaned down to kiss you. 

You felt for the end of his shirt pulling it off his soon as yours were off. Standing up you pulled down his boxers, revealing his hard cock and without warning you bent down to take it into your mouth. 

His groan of pleasure and surprise was worth it. His hand moved to your hair knowing what you wanted. Guiding your head forward he slid his hot cock down your throat till it reached the hilt, not managing to keep a moan from his mouth. You hummed approvingly as he now moved your head back and forth with both hands choking you on his dick. 

His audible hisses had your pussy throbbing with need. Humming out long moans as he picked up the pace. Each push forward sent stars to your eyes but you didn't care. He let you breathe only momentarily before filling your mouth again. His head was tilted back, his hair falling carelessly around his face as his hips bucked back and forth. He was the giver of the relationship typically, hardly letting you touch him at first. You’d slowly but surely chipped at the wall he had up that denied himself pleasure, or pleasure as an afterthought. 

With every stroke you wanted him to feel good. So good. And sometimes he obliged you. His grip on your jaw stilled and you remain perfectly still as he comes down your throat, hot and fast his hands falling almost limply to his sides. 

“Fuck Y/N” he said quietly as you release his dick from your mouth with a pop. You stand up and press your bare bodies together before kissing him needily. With one hand around your hips and the other sliding open the shower, he backed you into the spray of the shower, closing the glass door behind him. 

The hot water hitting your back made you moan against his mouth as he pressed you flat against the wall of the shower, lifting your leg up around his waist. He slid inside your wet folds effortlessly, pulling back from kissing you to ask 

“Is this what you wanted ?” 

Her snapped his hips upwards causing you to tug at his now wet hair. 

“Hm?” he asked again when you were to busy in ecstasy to answer. 

“Yes.” You said breathily as his pace picked up ruthlessly. “Yes baby thats so good.” 

You were unraveling quickly, the only leg you had to the ground was wobbling under the force of pleasure you felt from each deep stroke. He was kissing you again urgent and tenderly. 

“Shouta” you whined against his lips your flat against his chest curling into fist “fuck”

He could tell you weren't going to last long, but in one smooth move he pulled out and flipped you so your chest was pressed against the wall. You moaned disappointed at the lack of him but was quickly filled up again. 

One hand was down at your clit rubbing ruthless circles that brought stars to your eyes and his other hand was pressed around your neck, gently as he slammed into you. 

You could hear his faltering breaths in your ear as you started to see white. 

“Cum in me.” You pleaded sensing both of your mounting orgasims. He rewarded you with a breathy moan 

“Fuck, Y/N” grabbing your waist with both hands. You came first, crying out his name as he continually filled you up, your pussy tightening unbelievably around his cock sending him over the edge and filling you up with his cum.

You stayed like that for a moment, both of you breathing heavily. Turning around your captured his lips again this time for a sweet kiss. 

“Maybe we should actually shower now.” You said in between kisses. You let out a giggle as he pushed you back against the wall. 

“No, I’m not done with you yet.” 

Prolouge: 

The Cinnamon rolls got dry and hard but that's okay cause you got your guts rearranged a few times before then. 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Chizuru Town (Part 1)

In the game you wake up on the beach in Chizuru with NO IDEA how you got there.

I have a little fun with it. Enjoy!

“MC!”

The children’s voices were happy and oddly squeaky. They draw you out of unconsciousness. Your body feels a bit cold, and you shiver. 

“MC!” They keep calling you. You’re lying face up but their hands are pressed against your back. They keep pushing you from below.

You take a breath and feel the cold shock of water up your nose. The choking sensation makes you want to bolt upright but something is holding you up on the surface of the water. You catch a glimpse of silver grey, rubbery skin. A thin slit in that skin opens and sprays a mist with a sharp whoosh. The children’s voices are replaced by the squealing and whistling of dolphins.

Dolphins! Their sharp pointed fins are cutting through the water. You can see their bright eyes turn to look up at you. The way their mouths curve in their snouts gives them a smile. But they were powerful, insistent creatures. The moment you tried to swim on your own, they pushed you out of the water again.

The salt water in your mouth, the frigid breeze against your sun warmed skin told you this wasn’t a dream. You’d heard stories of dolphins rescuing people before, but you’d never actually thought you’d get to experience being carried on these muscular bodies. 

There were more surrounding you. Their sparkling backs broke the surface, no doubt watching. One eventually peeled off and another replaced them and you realized they were taking turns carrying you along. The sun was about halfway across the sky now and you could see the sparkling white sand of a small beach. The beach was only a few yards wide before it hit the seawall. You could climb up the seawall by what looked like stairs that led to a main street.

You gather your arms about yourself. What little clothing had survived the ghost tooth dragon vipers was torn away by the water and water-born debris. You were completely naked. You already were in the country illegally. You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you just showed up completely exposed like this. But how would you get any clothing?

The dolphins didn’t care about this at all. They pressed forward. If they knew anything about humans, it was that humans belonged on land and, for whatever reason, they had made it their mission to get you to the land as soon as possible. They pushed you with their snouts so hard you thought you might bruise and swam so quickly, you formed a wake in the water. You were already weak from fatigue and dehydration. There was no way you could fight them.

So you are pushed like a buoy towards the shore. When the water got too shallow the dolphins were forced to turn back or risk beaching themselves. Still, they swam a close distance away. Your body was shaking at a steady constant rate and the warm sand was irresistible. You lay down and sigh.

After a bit of rest, you pick a shadier spot against the wall, out of the sun and hopefully out of the prying eyes of people walking by. The dolphins follow you, spy hopping and watching. This was all so surreal.

You were supposed to be dead.

Again.

When you were younger, you read a book about a world where there was almost no difference between heaven, hell, and the living world. People died and woke up again to a place they found familiar and only vaguely strange. The book was deliberately unsettling, meant to blur the line between reality and dreams. The protagonist wasn’t sure if he was still alive, in heaven, or in hell, and the reader was not to know either until the end.

You’re feeling this way now. You thought you had died in the Arctic ocean, only to be thrown into a chaotic dragonslaying academy. Now you thought you died, only to wake up to a school of dolphins after nearly getting eaten by a dragon.

How are you alive after all that has happened? Maybe you weren’t alive. Maybe this was hell and you were suffering multiple deaths. The dolphins chattered brightly ahead of you, but now their sounds seemed more like they were mocking you, naked, on the sand alone, alive again with no friends.

There was no sign of Lu Mingfei, Chu Zihang or Caesar Gattuso. Were they saved by dolphins too? Or left to drown and be eaten? Was God only with you and not with them? Your mind starts to form an idea. You can test out this theory. Worst case scenario was that you died for real and you’d long since gotten over that fear.

You stand up and brush the sand off your bare bottom. You would take your time to rest and hide out until night fell and then use the dark to your advantage. 

Fatigue made you sleep longer than you wanted. Darkness has truly fallen when you wake up, stiff and achy. A greyish mat of sand has stuck to your whole body. You look back towards the ocean, but the dolphins are gone. You waddle out on wobbly legs and wash the sand away. After so much time in the water, the feel of it on your skin was suddenly abhorrent and you would be happy if you never spent another day in the ocean as long as you lived.

The theory that you’re actually dead and none of this was real was again challenged by how hard it was to make it up the stairs. You were so exhausted, starving and dehydrated that you swayed. You’d give anything for a bowl of hot ramen, served up fresh with a bit of egg floating on top.

You heard a voice cry out. A young couple was out for a stroll and had spotted you. You must look like a monster, hair long and matted and no clothes at all. Sure enough, they back away moaning with trembling voices before turning to run off, screaming something you can’t understand. Further up towards the street, you see bright lights. The smell of vendors cooking street food makes your stomach rumble. You couldn’t be out in the open, but maybe if you got close enough, you could dumpster dive and find some clothes. You sneak behind the back of the nearest building, a stucco box with a small front yard. The young man of the couple returns with a few other people. He’s speaking breathlessly, pointing towards the ocean. Poor guy. No doubt he thought he’d seen some ghost girl come from the ocean. This is probably something that would traumatize him for life.

You hear a small noise next to you. A little black cat is pawing at you. You could barely see it in the shadows. It didn’t care that you weren’t wearing clothes. Its fur was soft and warm and its purrs were comforting. You run your hand over its head and ears and it crawls into your lap. You would have liked to own a cat someday. You always liked them. They were funny and cute and very affectionate like this one. When you raise your eyes, your heart leaps. There are clothes hanging on a clothesline from a house not too far away!

You scramble quickly towards it, careful not to step on anything that might make noise. You check every gap to make sure that no one can see you. Then as soon as you reach the clothing, you carefully yank it off the line. It was just one of the local school uniforms. The white button down top was a bit small, but the wine-colored skirt fits you just fine around the waist. You were only a bit older than Renata when she died so this was probably the outfit of a highschool student.

Your eyes fall on the back door of the house. That’s right, Japanese don’t wear shoes in the house. These shoes were laid out neatly on the rack. You glance around and carefully approach, snatching what you hope will fit you. They’re just the right size, much to your shock. This surprise is enough to send a jolt of happiness through you. Now clothed, you return to the cat and pick it up in your arms and walk out on the street. The first thing you saw was a sign that said, Chizuru.

Before arriving in Japan, Norma, the school AI had told you about a place called Chizuru being a safe haven and to find an Internet Cafe there if you ever got into trouble. The hairs rose on the back of your arms. How could this be possible that dolphins not only save your life, but take you directly to the place that you needed to be? You sang the song that said ‘God is with you’ but it was supposed to be a metaphor right? 

You approach a man on the street who looks at you with a stunned expression. “I… excuse…”

Before you can ask anything, he shakes his head again and again and flees from you. “Wait! I need…”

You try again, this time of one of the vendors, an old craggy-faced man who stares at you with a black expression until you give up.

Burned, you just decide to wander around until you see something that looks like an internet cafe. It wouldn’t be in a neighborhood. More likely closer to the city center, on a main street. You head that way, away from the beach and the houses. The city center seems much quieter than you would expect it to be. You stop.

A group of people are standing on the street, five men in black leather jackets displaying flaming Oni masks. One had a wild looking tall mohawk dyed red. His black jeans reached down to black leather boots studded with silver spikes. It was as if the black dragon that tried to eat you had turned human and walked on land.

He turned his head and spotted you. It was too late to hide. His eyes ran up and down the length of you and he grinned, and made a slow whistling noise. You may have been raised in an orphanage but you weren’t that naive to not know what that smile meant. You’d seen it before on some of the staff who liked to take advantage of the older girls there. 

So you didn’t need to know the vulgar words coming out of their mouth.  You set the kitten down on a nearby trash can and pat it on the head, quietly telling it to stay in Russian. The cat obliged, and started to clean its paws.

In the orphanage, you were taught hand to hand basics until you were strong enough to actually use it in a fight. The trainings were very light against each other and you weren’t allowed to cause injury, but there was no gender splitting. You were only hybrids. Whether you were male or female, it didn’t matter so long as you had dragonblood in your veins.

Because of your background, you didn’t show the same innocent fear that these men may have been accustomed to from someone your age, in that clothing. You stared them straight in the eyes, your arms at your side, not moving forward or back. This nonchalant attitude made them stand there in brief bewilderment. The one with the mohawk was clearly the bolder of the five and he shouted something at you that you don’t understand. You just shake your head.

“I need to find the Internet Café…” You make a gesture with your hands to pantomime typing at a computer. They started to laugh, elbowing each other and nodding. You sigh. You’re so tired and it showed on your face.

Your lack of Japanese and your weary expression was an invitation to attack and they approached you now.

In the orphanage, no one would approach you like this in such a joking manner. Especially not on the training grounds. The Mohawk’s hands were relaxed. He was confident. He wasn’t watching your hands ball into fists as tight as stones and he wasn’t watching the sudden shift in your feet as you moved into a sturdy stance. He reached out with his hand to your elbow. So he was unable to block or dodge your fist that struck him like lightning.

He didn’t just feel pain or stagger back. The man felt flat to his side, straight to the pavement, and he didn’t get up. The eyes of his four friends followed him down with a stunned feeling. You knew that feeling. Like they suddenly found themselves in a fantasy world where a high school girl in a school uniform could knock out a gangster with a single hit? 

Maybe this was a fantasy world and you were a fantasy high schooler. After all, you were carrying a cat!

They all turned to you in unison and you attacked the next one, levering back on one leg and slamming him with a kick to the solar plexus. He staggered back, wheezing, curling in on himself, once or twice.. 

The next one now had the wherewithal to produce a switchblade. He swung it wildly at where your heart should have been, but the blouse was a bit open where it was too tight and he caught a glimpse of the fact that you’re not wearing anything underneath. Your hand caught his wrist and you pulled hard, driving your knee directly into his crotch.

His grip on the knife released as he slowly sank to the ground and you swiped it easily. You give it a toss and catch it by the handle. Now the smile is on your face and there’s no pleasure in it as you stare down the final two gangsters.

One gives up and turns to run, arms pinwheeling comically as his oni mask jacket flapped in the breeze created by his own flight.

The last one was backing away, stumbling over his feet, crawling back upright. And when he does get up, you see something in his hand, shiny and black.

A gun. You hadn’t seen one in a while and you stopped. You couldn’t do anything about this. He just needed to pull the trigger and you were gone. But this was a world where you couldn’t die… right?

A man in a white shirt and black slacks leaped out from behind a car and a bright metal arc gave off sparks as it neatly cut the gun in half. Chu Zihang’s sword then rested its edge on the man’s throat

The man stared at his severed gun in silence a moment before he noticed the blade.

“Senpai!” You joyfully run forward and wrap your arms around Zihang.

Zihang looks bewildered, unsure of what to do. His free hand hovers over your shoulder… head… and then he settles on patting you on the back.

The man at his mercy is trembling in terror at the discovery that this warrior girl in a school uniform somehow has a ‘Senpai’ at all. His companions are already staggering away, one of them limping and bowlegged as he flees. 

Chu Zihang raised his hand and rubbed his thumb and fingers together in the universal sign for ‘money’. You stick his tongue out at him.

The man was quick to oblige, tossing him his wallet.  Chu Zihang lowered his sword. After examining the contents, he picked out a few bills and handed the man his wallet back but he was already running away.

“Were you just going to let him shoot you?” He asked.

You opened your mouth. “Yes… but!” You raise a finger to halt objections. “I knew something would happen to keep me from dying!”

Chu Zihang shook his head slowly. “Where’s Lu Mingfei and Caesar?”

Your expression sobers. “I don’t know. I was looking for the Internet Cafe…”

He walks over to a vending machine and puts in the money to buy you something to eat. You return to where the cat is resting on the trash can. “What a good kitty!” You whisper, ,gathering it up in your arms.

“You shouldn’t keep that.” The Machine is pouring out noodles with soup broth base. Your stomach rumbles and the cat meows.

“Is there something for Kitty?” You ask.

Chu Zihang sighs again. The man gave the whole wallet, after all. Chu Zihang orders some dried squid for the cat.

In a few moments both you and Kitty are sitting against the building. You’re so hungry that you scald your mouth on the soup, but you don't care. Chu Zihang is silent, still standing guard and watching. With your hunger sated, you look up at him. “You’re the team lead right?”

“Only if I find out Caesar is dead.”

“You think he’s alive? Do you want me to call you boss?”

“No.”

“Okay boss.”

You look up at him and he’s scowling at you, not in the mood for your jokes, or your kitten. “How did you survive?”

“You’re not going to believe this. A pod of dolphins brought me all the way here.”

Much to your surprise he believes you. “That’s true. The dolphins here are very friendly to the locals. In fact there was a story I read about that...”

There was a sudden cacophony of roaring engines. Chu Zihang grabs you and together you duck behind the parked cars. Motorcycles, dozens of them, are all roaring off in one direction, their lights streaming towards a single destination. Among them were vans filled with people with automatic weapons. Right after that, all the lights go out in Chizuru. From the tallest building, to the smallest house, even the lights illuminating the advertisements go dark. 

Chu Zihang sighed deep in his chest. “I have a bad feeling Caesar is that way.”

[thicctails]

Summer of Whump Day 10 [Camping/Trapped]

Hhhhh I am so behIND SCHEDULE

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Ω

 Omega shifted on her pile of blankets, trying to get comfortable. Pillow’s quiet snores were all she heard as she stared tiredly into the darkness. Her salamander friend hadn’t stopped growing, and he was beginning to take up quite a bit of space. He was more of a “Bed” than a Pillow at this point. His large tail swung around as he dreamed, the appendage catching her in the side. She let out a quiet cough, pushing the heavy tail off of herself. Enough was enough. She obviously wasn’t going to be getting any sleep like this.

 Grabbing her favourite datapad, she jumped down onto the floor, not worrying about the slight noise that came as a result. Almost everyone was out gathering needed supplies, leaving Wrecker as her sole guardian for the night. Wrecker was, as usual, trying to sleep off his headache. Omega wandered throughout the ship, eventually deciding to curl up in the pilot’s seat to read. The seat dwarfed her, and it still amazed her that, someday, it wouldn’t seem so big.

 The datapad’s gentle glow was soothing, but the story it held wasn’t all that long. It was a children’s story about a little Porg that was different from his other siblings. She loved this story, because at the end the little Porg found a family that loved him, even if he looked different. After she’d reread it a few times, Omega set the datapad down and stared out of the windshield. The night brought a sense of calm to the planet they had been staying on for the past week, and as much as she loved the energetic hustle and bustle of the marketplace during the day, a break was always nice.

 Her eyes widened as she spotted something that she’d never seen before. A blink of light appeared before her, just outside the protection of the windshield. They glowed for a moment, then faded, then appeared again. Omega sits there, watching the lights in wonderment. Then, one lands on the glass, and she sees that it’s a bug that’s glowing.

 “Whoa.” Omega breathes.

 She wants to see the fascinating bugs up close, so she opened the Havoc Marauder’s door and steps out into the warm night air. She walked around to the front of the ship, staring in delight as the blinking insects flit around her. One lands on Omega’s nose, blinking every few seconds.

 The young girl giggled, the light shining in her large brown eyes. The insect slowly lifted off, its tiny wings buzzing slightly. Omega followed after it, wanting to see where the little bug was going.

   The glowing animal led her beyond the ship, and more and more bugs joined them as they neared an open field. Nocturnal flowers bloomed under the combined glow of three moons, and unseen animals chirped in the trees. Omega ran her hand along the tall, soft grass, feeling the dew that had formed. A frog jumped out of the grass, its bulbous throat expanding as it croaked. Omega, who had only ever seen the animal in datapads, crouched down and stared in awe at the smooth amphibian. The frog croaked again, hopping into the grass again. She followed it, hopping as it had. She giggled as she jumped up and down, her head popping up above the grass every few seconds.

 Suddenly, her foot slipped, and Omega yelped as she began to tumble downwards. Rocks and roots scratched up her skin, and to top it all off, she hit something hard once she reached the bottom of whatever ditch she’d fallen into. Coughing, she rolled onto her side, wincing when she felt her shoulder scream in protest. Biting her lip, she used her legs to maneuver herself into a sitting position. Now that she was no longer face down in the dirt, she blinked, taking in her surroundings. Within seconds, she spotted something white laying in the dirt. Confused, she peered at it, leaning forward. It looked like…

 She gasped, scrambling back.

 That was clone trooper armor.

 Panicked, she pressed herself against the side of the ditch. She tried to get to her feet, but a sharp pain in her lower back had her sliding back down. Her breaths came in shallow pants as she curled up into a ball, hoping beyond hope that her lack of movement might save her life.

 A long, tense moment passed, but the clone trooper showed no sign of movement. Afraid, but curious now, Omega crept forward, her body shivering in pain as she moved. Now that she was closer, she could see that, like the armor of the Bad Batch, there were stripes of colour on this clone’s armor. Lines of blue decorated the scuffed white suit, and she found herself reaching out  to touch them. The paint was chipped in some areas, and she could feel scratches in the armor. Whoever this was, they’d been around for a while.

 She paused for a moment, trying to sense with the Force what exactly she was dealing with here. No buzz of danger had appeared, and she actually felt a pleasant, warm feeling in her chest. This person, it seemed, was not unknown to the Force, and it seemed to like him. Deciding to take the risk, she used her good arm to remove the clone’s helmet. She needed to find out why he had collapsed here, and to check if he was even alive. Breathing could be hard to see under plastoid.

 She was surprised to see that the man’s hair was blonde like hers, and she wondered what gene had been modified in the two of them to give them both the unique hair colour. Placing the helmet aside with care, she saw a small prick of dried blood on the clone’s neck. Had he been shot with something?

 Omega pressed two fingers to the man’s throat, holding her breath as she waited. There was a good chance that she was touching a corpse right now, and that idea didn’t sit right with her.

 Lub dub… lub dub…

 Oh good. Not touching a corpse.

 Exhaling in relief, Omega sat back down, hissing as the pain in her lower back started up again. As much as she liked the high level of movement her normal clothes gave her, perhaps she should start looking into ways of making herself a suit of armor. With all the trouble she got into, it might be worth the effort.

 The nighttime animals sung all around her, and despite her less than awesome situation, she smiled. She wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t in total silence, two things she was very grateful for, even if her company was a stranger who could, at any given time, wake up and decide to kill her.

 Actually, maybe she should take his blaster.

 Just as she started to reach over, a sound made her freeze. Something had just stepped on a stick.

 Moving into a crouch, Omega peered upwards towards the ditch’s ridge. The tall grass swayed, obscuring her sight. She kept staring, sure that she had heard something. However, when nothing appeared, she looked away, easing herself back down into a sitting position, rubbing at her sore shoulder. Distracted by her pain, she failed to notice the growing buzz at the back of her mind. Until, of course, it became a screaming alarm bell that was yelling “LOOK OUT, MORON!”

 Omega’s head snapped up as a snarl shattered the night’s calm existence. She flinched back as a lithe figure leapt down into the ditch. It looked like a long Loth Cat, bigger in size and sporting a thin, spine-covered tail. The animal stared at Omega, it’s large, silver eyes making her tense up in fear. It considered her for a moment, then turned towards the downed clone. It opened its mouth, saliva dripping down its fangs.

 “Oh no you don’t. You’re not eating him!” Omega yelled, grabbing a nearby rock and throwing it at the cat. The feline hissed, jumping back. It growled at Omega, its tail flicking back and forth.

 The command to get back passed through her head, and she listened to the instinct. Her body made its displeasure known as she threw herself away from the animal, landing on her back as a spray of quills embedded themselves into the dirt. The pain stunned her for only a moment, but it was for longer than she could afford. A weight appeared on her chest, pressing down on her collarbone. Curved claws pricked her skin, causing beads of blood to seep into her shirt.

 Omega yelped, trying to kick the cat off with her good leg, but the animal simply scratched the limb with a hind paw, slicing the skin of her knee open. Tears pricked at her eyes as adrenaline kicked in, her body going into panic mode. Her brain shoved the memory of one of Hunter’s lessons into her immediate thoughts, and she swung her fist up towards the cat’s face, trying to catch it in the eye. She managed to land a hit, and the animal screeched in pain. Its head jerked back, and she punched it again, this time in the throat.

 The large feline fell back, allowing a bleeding Omega to put some distance in between them. Her body shook as she tried to figure out what to do. She didn’t have much time; the animal was already rolling back onto its paws. She reached out, trying to connect with the Force. If she really did have a connection with it, than she should be able to do something!

 A feeling of strength and power rippled through Omega suddenly, settling in the palms of her hands. It felt as though she could grab anything within a few feet of her, although she wasn’t quite sure how. However, she didn’t have a chance to try, as the cat was now coming at her again, claws unsheathed and fangs bared. Terrified and out of options, she focused on the cat, closed her eyes, and swung her hand to the side as hard as she could.

 The animal yowled in shock, flying into the wall of the ditch. Stunned, and now feeling tired, Omega stared at the animal, her eyes wide. She… she had done it! She’d used the Force!

 The cat shook its head, whipping around to snarl at Omega. The girl’s excitement disappeared. Apparently, she hadn’t used it well enough to dissuade the predator. Omega shrunk back, too hurt and tired and scared to think of another plan. The feline dropped down, its eyes locking onto her as it pounced forward, jaws open wide. Omega shut her eyes and covered her face with the arm she could still use, awaiting the attack.

 …

 But it never came.

 Instead, the sound of a blaster being fired made her open her eyes and lower her arm. The cat was on its side, unmoving but still breathing. She looked to her left, and there was the clone, holstering his blaster. She felt relief wash over her when, upon noticing her, the man didn’t move to shoot her too.

 “Are you alright, little ‘un?” His voice sounded groggy, like he’d just woken up from a nap.

 Omega nodded, not sure she could do much else.

 The clone stared at her, his head tilting slightly. He blinked, like he wasn’t sure if he was seeing things right.

 “I’ve seen a lot of clones in my lifetime, but never one that looked like you.” He smiled at her, before looking around cautiously. “Where did you come from? Are you runnin’ from the Empire too?”

 “I-I am, but we’re not in any danger right now!” She said, stuttering a bit. Her pounding heart was making speech difficult. “I’m here with my family.”

 “Family?” The man asked.

 Omega’s cheeks turned a bit pink in embarrassment. “S-sorry! I meant my squad, not family...” She trailed off a bit at the end. Were they a family? Echo, Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech were all brothers, but she was something different, a clone that was even more different than they were. What was she to them?

 “Your squad? What’s your squad number?” The other clone, who was getting to his feet, offered her a hand as he stood. She took it, not minding when he supported her with a second hand when her legs wobbled. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and she was starting to feel exhaustion seep into her muscles.

 “Omega! Omega, where are you?!”

 Omega looked up, a smile coming onto her face.

 “Wrecker!” She yelled back.

 “Wrecker? Wait…” The other clone seemed to come to a realization just as Wrecker appeared at the edge of the ditch. The enhanced clone tensed at the sight of someone holding Omega, before he realized who exactly he was looking at.

 “Rex!” He cried, his face lighting up.

 Omega felt Rex laugh, and she turned to look at him. The blonde was smiling and shaking his head.

 “Of course.” He said, looking at Wrecker with a grin. “Of course it’s you crazy bastards.”

 “You know him?” Omega asked, not really sure who she was directing the question to.

 “Oh, for sure! Rex is an old friend of ours!” Wrecker said. “Now get up here so I can hug ‘ya!”

 “I would, but this little one is hurt. I doubt she can climb out on her own.” Rex said, letting Omega lean on him. Side by side, they almost looked like they were a father and daughter.

 “Oh kriff!” Wrecker cursed, just now noticing the bruises and cuts. “Hunter’s gonna kill me- what happened?!”

 “A cat tried to eat Rex, but I distracted it.” Omega said, finding it hard to stay upright. “Then it tried to eat me.”

 “While I’m not glad you got hurt, I must thank you for keeping that thing off me. You’re a very brave and very strong girl, Omega. Those Quill Prowlers are quite scary. I’m surprised you didn’t get hi-!” Rex cut himself off, looking down at Omega’s boots. “Oh dear.”

 “What?” Omega and Wrecker asked at the same time. Omega looked down.

 There was a quill sticking out of her boot.

 “Oh.” She said, before promptly passing out.

[thiswasinevitableid]

.. for mermay.. 8, indruck nsfw?

Here you go! Duck’s design is based on a rudderfish.

Authors note: since prompt 8 is “drunk,” drinking is mentioned in this. It’s also implied Indrid is doing some self-destructive behaviors to cope with trauma.

The party is a splendid success, as was the book launch that preceded it. Indrid has done what he does best, lined his pockets and those of his agents and editors, and gotten everyone talking. 

“Did you see the one of the pyres?”

“The one of the hurricane aftermath, the look in the girls eyes is so haunting.”

“Personally, I found the jeweled mummies a bit much, but the emergency room shots? Stunning.”

This is why Indrid is sitting on the rocks on his private cove, and will not be going back up to the house until he’s polished off all three of these heavily spiked bottles of eggnog. It’s better than the time he emptied most of a bottle of vanilla vodka, but not by much. 

He was tipsy when he snuck out the back door and down the path to the sea. So when the empty bottle rolls away, all he can do is whap at the air close to it and wave as it plonks into the water.

“Oops. Hic, oh, hic, well, what’s one more piece of trash in, hic, a dying world?”

He yelps, knocking his remaining bottles into the sand as the lost one flies through the air towards him. Or he thinks that’s the trajectory; it’s hard to tell. The point is, the bottle is back and he’s clutching his chest like an old man in a silent movie.

“Look, man, I know it’s temptin to just leave trash everywhere, but there are signs up and down this beach sayin not to litter.” A man floats in the water at the foot of the rock, black hair plastered to his forehead and muscular arms crossed over a bare chest. 

“It, hic, it was an accident. And I am, hic, in no condition to retrieve anything from the water.”

The man frowns, “shit, if you’re that drunk, you oughta get off the rocks. It’s deep here, you might drown. Go sit on the sand, it’s safer. Warmer too, still holdin heat from the sun.”

“I, I’m fine, hic, don’t, don’t need some wet man babying me.” He stands to prove his point, nearly falls face first into the water, and sits back down, “see, m’fine.”

“Get off the rock.” The man says, sounding for all the world like a cat owner two seconds from grabbing the spray bottle. 

“No.” Indrid huffs. 

Water splashes his face and he sputters.

The man pulls his hand back, preparing to send another wave at him, “Get.”

“Fuck you” 

The splash is much more intense this time and he curses, scrambles sideways, and falls to his knees in the sand. 

“That’s better, now I don’t gotta worry about fishin your careless ass outta the water.”

“If, if we are, hic, t-talking careless, you, you shouldn’t say a thing. You’re, hic, swimming in cold water with, without a wetsuit.”

The man shrugs, “Don’t need one.” With that he floats on his back, bringing a dark-scaled tail into view. 

“You’re, hic, you’re a merman.” He crawls forward, breathless, “that’s so cool, wanna, gotta photograph you, so handsome, gotta-”

“Nope” The merman swims back into deeper water, “no pictures, those can end real bad for us.”

“But, but you’re so beautiful. If, hic, if pictures are no good, I, I can draw. I draw good, even if no one likes it.”

“Uh, you really wanna sit on a cold beach paintin my picture instead of hangin out at that shindig?” He points up the hill to the brightly lit house. 

“No, nonono, hic, don’t, don’t wanna go back up there, s’awful, hic.” 

“Awful?” The merman sounds concerned, and in the patchy moonlight he swims close enough that Indrid can see the details of his face, “is someone up there hurtin you?”

“No” He shakes his head, “it, it-”

“Indrid!”

“Damn it.” He mutters as the merman retreat beneath waves. As his guests grow closer he stands, carefully picks up all three bottles, and heads uphill to meet them.

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

Indrid shuffles through the house, head pounding, decides he hates the following people, in this order:

-His agent

-Himself

-Whoever mentioned it was a shame there were no Plata River Bridge photos, causing Indrid to drink a whole martini in order to bite his tongue.

It’s not until his third cup of coffee that he remembers the merman. God, he was really rude to someone who was just trying to keep him from drowning.

Very, very carefully, he makes his way to the beach, sketchbook in one hand and thermos in the other. 

“Hello?” He calls across the water. No reply. Of course there isn’t; the merman has the whole ocean to explore, there’s no reason for him to hang around Indrid’s house. He sighs, sits down on a piece of driftwood, and draws. Normally the cold would drive him back indoors, but today it’s bracing, blowing his hangover off of him and down the sand. 

“Glad to see you’re in one piece” 

Indrid sits bolt upright. The merman waves to him.

“You came back?”

“Yeah? I mean, this is part of my rounds, so I come by here at least once a day. More surprised you’re down here when it’s all cold and grey.”

“I, ah, I wanted to apologize for last night. I was being stubborn and rude.”

“You were, but I was kinda grumpy too. At the end of my shift and all that, but I shouldn’t have splashed you.” He smiles, swims closer, “do you, uh, remember any of the other stuff you said?”

“I have a vague memory of begging to photograph you. Or maybe draw, it’s all very fuzzy.”

“You did. I, uh” the merman’s cheeks turn pink, “you were really, uh, well let’s just say you were excited at the idea of drawin me, so I thought maybe, if you wanted to..”

“Yes”  Indrid shifts down into the sand so he can rest his back on the log, “can we do it now? You said you were on rounds, and if you’re working I don’t want to interrupt.”

“I’m done for the day. Should I get on a rock or somethin?”

“Can you come on the sand at all? Oh, ah, it seems you can.” Indrid scoots back as the merman slides gracefully ashore. In the daylight, his tail is a rich green-brown, his hair streaked with grey near his forehead. His eyes, one green and one brown, regard Indrid with curiosity as he turns to a new page. 

“You got a name?”

“Indrid. Indrid Cold.”

“Duck Newton. It’s a nickname.” The mer stretches his arms and tail, and were Indrid in a self-flattering frame of mind he’d say he was flexing for him, “I gotta pose?”

“No, as long as you don’t move too much, I should be fine.”

Duck nods, shifts onto his belly with his tail dipped in the surf. Indrid sets his pen to paper, asks Duck what he does for work and when the tunnel vision of his project dissipates, it’s dusk.

“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long.”

The merman yawns, “S’okay, it was nice talkin with you, and I got to birdwatch some. Can I see?”

Indrid turns the sketchbook. Mis-matched eyes widen. 

“Holy fuck. You made me look damn good.”

“I simply captured you as you are.” Indrid feels a blush moving up his cheeks as Duck scoots closer. 

“You gonna do this tomorrow?  If, uh, if you don’t wanna draw me again, I can bring you some interestin stuff from the water. If, uh, if you want.”

His schedule for tomorrow starts with a phone interview, after which he was planning to sit in a dark living room and watch mindless T.V.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you, Duck.”

The merman beams, waves, and then pushes back into the sea, raising his tail once in farewell. 

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

“...now, Juno thinks it’s-holy fuck ‘Drid, was that your stomach?” Duck raises his head from where he’s been sort-of-napping, sort of talking.

“Hmm? Yes, I suppose it was.” He has his watercolors out today, a surprise stretch of sunny days rendering the beach and hillsides in glorious technicolor. 

“When did you last eat?”

“..............”

“Oh my fuckin god, ‘Drid, no wonder you look like you’re close to passin out.”

“I’m fine.” 

Duck has that look on his face again, the one he got when Indrid admitted to walking the cliff-side trails when he’s coming back from the roadhouse on the edge of town. When Indrid says he hasn’t slept in two days. 

The merman says nothing, goes back to reading the book of nature essays Indrid brought him. A buzz cuts through the air and he groans, shuts off the alarm on his phone, “I need to go get ready for that interview.”

“You wanna meet up tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Great. But, uh, seem to remember you promised me some of those cookies you say are the best in the world.”

Indrid smirks, “I suppose I did.”

“I want some. But not for dinner, with dinner. You feel me?” There’s an edge in his drawl, as formidable and unyielding as the nearby cliff-face. 

“Alright, I'll bring you some other things to try.” Indrid smiles, suddenly looking forward to a grocery run. 

Duck, now in the water, looks over his shoulder, “Good boy.”

Indrid shivers even as heat blooms in his chest. 

When sunset graces the beach, Indrid is busy setting out a half dozen take-out containers and many plastic boxes of cookies and fruit.

“Damn” Duck slides and wiggles his way onto the sand by the blanket, “you went all out.”

“You wanted a meal. I brought you one.”

“Sure did.” Duck sniffs the air, taps a carry-out bowl of soup, “what’s this?”

“Umm” Indrid peers at the label, “french onion soup.”

“Can I have it?”

“Of course.”

The merman downs the soup as fast as temperature allows, munches happily on the orange segments Indrid peels and samples the cookies. 

“Ahhh” He flops his head into Indrid’s lap, “that hit the spot.”

The human nods, bottle of pineapple soda on his lips. He’s so happy and full. 

Wait.

“Duck? Did you suggest this just so I would eat something?”

The face in his lap only looks a little chagrined, “Kinda. I been meanin to suggest this, and today seemed like the right time. And, uh, I know sometimes I have a hard time lookin after myself for me, but if someone else tells me to do it, or I have to do it as part of lookin after them, it’s easier. Thought that might be goin’ on with you. I, uh, I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

“Nono” Indrid sets a hand in his hair, stroking it so Duck rubs his cheek against his thigh, “you’re right. It was easier to do the kind thing for myself when you told me to. Would, ah, would you be willing to do it again.” 

Duck meets his eyes, gaze bubbling with something dark and alluring, “Sure thing, ‘Drid.”

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

“Before you go, I wanted to give you this.” Indrid holds out the small camera. Duck, perched on a rock, takes it with a puzzled frown. He adds, “It’s waterproof. You mentioned you wish you could take pictures of the things you see in your home. I couldn’t think of a better time to give you than your trip.”

“Thanks, ‘Drid.” Duck leans forward, rubbing their cheeks together, “you remember your instructions?”

“Yes.” He whimpers when Duck pulls back. 

“Good. Want you in good shape when I get home.” Duck’s voice returns to normal, “should be back in a week. I’ll see you then.”

Indrid waves goodbye, keeps waving well past the point where Duck could see him, even if he surfaced. Then he grabs the basket of fresh oysters and heads to the house to call Barclay. 

The phone calls and dinners with one of his few friends in town are part of his agreement with Duck. The mer told him he couldn’t meet every night, so maybe Indrid should find other forms of company. He also helpfully supplies Indrid with fresh shellfish that he has no idea how to cook, but his friend the professional chef certainly does. This dovetails nicely with his promise to Duck to eat at least one full meal a day.

It’s not just the strange dynamic they’ve hit upon that’s improving his life; it’s Duck. The merman makes him feel so safe, like someone cares about the real him and not just the him that makes them money or feeds their morbid curiosity. Not to mention he’s even more handsome than Indrid first thought and he spends plenty of nights jerking off to the thought of a cool, strong tail between his legs. 

He does well the first five days Duck is gone. Barclay and Dani come over for dinner, he paints and draws prolifically, and he even reads up on whether it’s feasible for him to adopt rats (“those are kinda like otters, right?” “close enough.”). Friday night his agent calls, excitedly reporting that it’ll soon be the fifth anniversary of the Plata River incident and the magazine is getting requests for a feature on it and Indrid will be perfect. 

Indrid says he’ll think about it, hangs up, and opens the fridge. He promised Duck he’d only drink if it was with dinner or with friends. He grabs two wine coolers and heads into the living room. 

The next day, he’s idly fiddling with the dating app he hasn’t touched since December when a new profile appears. Very good looking, close by, clearly just passing through town, and interested in Indrid. He invites him over, spends the next half hour getting ready, and even cleans the bedroom because well, that’s what he’d do for Duck, he should do it for anyone else he brings over. 

Indrid opens the door at the second knock. The guy takes one look at him, shakes his head, and returns to his car.

Indrid downs the remaining wine coolers and goes down to the beach to sulk. He tucks his legs up, pressing his forehead to his knees, and rocks back and forth. He’s nearly sober when a voice drifts across the waves.

“‘Drid?” 

He looks up, glasses slipping down his nose, “Duck? You’re, you’re back.”

“Yep. It was fast goin the last ten miles. Brought the camera back, think you gotta be the one to get the pictures off, but I can’t wait to show you all the cool shit we saw.”

“Me neither” He stands and instantly pitches forward, landing on his hands and knees in the shallow water. 

“You been drinking?”

“Yes.”

“You and Barclay have a good time?” He’s giving him the benefit of the doubt, giving him an out, and Indrid decides that isn’t what he wants. 

“I wasn't with Barclay. I got horrible news last night, and today I tried to get laid and got rejected, and I’m at the point in my life where I nearly called after the guy that he could keep his eyes shut and I’d just blow him so he wouldn’t need to look at or touch me. So yes, Duck, I’ve been drinking.”

Duck’s expression swims between concern and disappointment, then comes to rest on neutral steel, “That ain’t what we agreed.”

“I’m aware. But I don’t care, I don’t” he aims a splash at Duck, “it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, nothing will come of it, same as always.”

The merman cocks an eyebrow, “You really think that? You forgettin I said there’d be consequences if you broke the rules?”

“Oooh, I’m so scared.” Indrid splashes him again.

Duck smiles, reminding him that all his teeth end in points, “Didn’t say anythin about scarin you. You really wanna believe that nothing matters, you can head home. Or” he points to a nearby rock, “you go get on your hands and knees, facin the cliffs.”

Indrid crawls gracelessly to the designated spot. It’s dangerous to turn his back on the ocean, but a gentle voice in his mind reminds him over and over that Duck is here. Duck won’t let him get hurt. 

There’s a splash as Duck pulls himself onto the rock. Then a whoosh of air and a sting in the right side of his ass. He yelps, startled, and looks behind him.

“If this ain’t okay, need you to say so now.” Duck’s eyes are wide and hungry, but his hands stay on the grey rock. 

“It’s okay.” He can’t believe this is happening, can’t decide if he should tell Duck this is not remotely a punishment. 

Another sharp grin, “Eyes front.”

Indrid’s barely obeyed when the next strike comes. Duck is strong and makes no attempt to hide it, hitting him hard enough that his knees jolt forward in the sand. The pain lights him up each time, forces the thing knotted in his chest up towards his throat. 

When the blows stop he whimpers, pushing his ass back in hopes of more.

“Don’t worry, ‘Drid, I ain’t done with you by a long shot.” Cold fingers undo his fly, bring his pants and underwear down to his thighs. He’s expecting another hit, wiggles his ass in anticipation. 

What he gets are teeth sinking into his skin.

“AH!GOD” He yells loud enough that his throat hurts.

Duck chuckles, “Holler all you want, we both know no one can hear what goes on on this beach, especially with all the wind.” He bites down again, Indrid thrashing and moaning as teeth sink into already reddened skin. Duck growls in reply, savaging the meat of his as and grazing his teeth along his thighs, dangerously close to his balls. He’s already getting hard, the process expedited by warm breath and lips on his body. 

He moans embarrassingly loud when Duck shoves his ass apart.

“Damn, you really did get all prepped for that fella. Shame, he didn’t know what he was missin.” The plug hits the sand to his right.

“You, you don’t have to flatter meEEEoh, oh Duckohmygoodness.” His fingers dig into the sand as the merman teases his rim with a flexible tongue. There’s a muffled laugh, but Duck doesn’t respond beyond that, too busy threatening him with a good time as his tongue gives an experimental push. 

Then it retreats and he turns his head left and right, delivering quick bites to either cheek before his tongue returns. He alternates between the delicious, teasing licks and painful bites, the shift never coming when Indrid expects and causing him to cry out every time. When the mer releases one side of his ass in order to slap his thighs while he continues licking, kissing, and nipping his way across bruised, sensitive skin, Indrid lets out a strangled sound, the thing in his chest now trapped at the back of his throat. 

“You make such cute noises, but they ain’t the ones I’m lookin for. I ain’t stoppin until you apologize.”

Indrid opens his mouth, intending to say something about how this is the wrong way to make him do so. 

“I, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry with me, don’t leave, don’t leave me here, I can’t, I, I don’t want to think about it, Duck please, I’m sorry, so sorry” he;s hunched forward, sobbing into the sand, when he realizes he’s fully clothed and Duck isn’t behind him.

“No” he squeaks, “no please don’t go.”

“I ain’t goin anywhere.” Duck slides up the sand next to him, pulls him into his arms, “I’m so sorry darlin, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I took it too far, I ain’t mad, not really” he eases Indrid’s glasses off and sets them out of harms way, “oh darlin, c’mere, it’s okay” salty kisses dot his forehead and green scales pet his legs. 

“It’s, hic, it’s not your fault. I, I l-liked it, but this has, hic, been building up for months. Years.” He hides his face in Duck’s chest.

“Years?” Duck grabs Indrid’s sweater from where he cast it off, draping it over the human. 

Indrid sniffs, “You know I’m a photographer. But I’ve never told you what I photograph. I, I made my name recording disasters and their aftermath. For a long time I took pride in it; someone has to document those things, so we can’t erase them, so we have to confront them and try to make things better, or try to keep such tragedy from reoccurring. I was so good at recording it I became famous. Wealthy. And I learned that most people like to gawk at horror and then go about their days. I, I tried branching out and...and I ended up with a disaster anyway. A bridge collapse, I chronicled everything from the instant it started to the funerals and it, it was too much. Ever since then I’ve felt trapped by my work. At times, by my life. My agent wants me to go back for the fifth anniversary, he told me so last night.”

“You ain’t goin, right?” 

“I don’t think I can.” 

Duck nods, rests his chin atop his head, “tell me what you wanna do instead.”

He does. He tells him about his other art, about the pitches for childrens books and the plans for a real vacation, about the life that, for the first time, feels in reach when he speaks about it. By the time he’s done the stars are out and he’s much calmer and clear-headed.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? That, that you thought I was attractive?”

“Every damn word.” Duck rolls them so Indrid is on his back, kisses his cheek, “thought so since that first night. But, uh” his gaze flicks down to Indrid’s crotch, “if you want more proof I’m happy to give it.”

“Please?”

“Get your pants off and lay on your sweater.”

Indrid complies, shivers when Duck guides his shirt up and off. 

“Fuuuuck” the mer rubs his hands up and down his torso, “when it warms up, you’re gonna swim out with me so I can get my fill of this while you ride my dick.”

“Yes. Ah, I, I did prep, but it’s been long enough now that lubrication may be an issueOOOh, ooohyes.” He release into the sand as Duck grinds his tail against his cock. The scales feel as lovely now as they do when he pets them, and he wonders if Duck will let him get off by humping his tail one of these days.

“It won’t, trust me. Lemme just--there we go. Open your legs. Heh, eager little thing.”

“I’ve wanted this too long to play coy.”

“Good.”

“Eeep!” Something slick and squirming presses into his ass, “do, do you have tentacles?”

“Kinda? They’re just the tip, for this exact reason. It, uh, it feel okay?” Duck smiles reassuringly and that, combined with the genuine concern in his voice makes Indrid moans and nudge him closer. 

“VeryOH, oohgracious” two more tentacles join the first, pulsing and scissoring him open, “how many are there?”

“About eight.”

He moans louder and Duck laughs, pushes his hips forward, “glad you like it, darlin’. Because from where I’m sittin your ass is fuckin amazin and I wanna be as deep in it as I can.”

“Yes, absolutely, pleaseAHHnnn” enough tentacles now that he can’t keep an accurate count, “please use it as you see fit.”

“As I see fit huh? That’s a tricky question. See, sometimes I wanna, fuck, wanna shove the whole thing in you at once and make you scream while I leave my mark on your neck.”

“AHHnnngod” A firmer shaft pushes in, ridges rubbing all the right places as the tentacles continue exploring him. 

“Other times, think it’s better to tease you with the tip, maybe make you blow me first and jerk you off until you’re beggin for my dick.”

“Yes, yesyesyesyes”

“But tonight” Duck bottoms out with a groan, “I’m gonna take it nice and slow, show you just how fuckin wonderful you are. How much you mean to me. My Indrid.”

“Yours” Indrid twines his limbs around him, “god, Duck, it feels so good, you’re so good, you always look after me.”

“That I do. Because you deserve it. And” the tentacles find his prostate and he nearly howls as Duck continues, “you deserve to learn how t’be nice to yourself. And I, ahfuck, know that ain’t easy, but I’m gonna be here to help.”

“Yes, ohgod, yes, you’re, you’re so perfect, aaAAAhnI, I’m, close sweetheart, you fill me so well.”

“Damn right. Gonna, nnngh, gonna find every fuckin way to fill you, make you feel fuckin amazin, fuck, that’s it darlin, ohfuckyeah” as he starts spilling into him, Indrid cums with a shout, splattering their stomachs. Duck moans at the sight, wriggles his hips as his shaft continues rippling and pulsing. It turns out mer orgasms are long, so long that Indrid is whimpering from overstimulation by the time Duck pulls out. 

A gentle, salt-soaked kiss to his lips, “Lookit you, took it all. You’re so good for me, darlin.”

“Mmmhmm” He doesn’t want to let go, cold, wind, and damp be damned. Duck seems to understand, holds him and whispers sweet promises in his ears until he’s shivering.

“‘Drid, your teeth are chatterin.”

“I kn-know, I s-should g-go home and w-warm up.”

Duck kisses him again, “sooner you go and rest, sooner we can do this again.”

“An excellent p-point.” He stands, blows a shaky kiss towards his future, “see you tomorrow.”

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 21

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

"Password?" the Fat Lady asks Harry and Ron as the two Second Years pause, glancing at each other.

"Er -" says Harry.

The two hadn't been able to get the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help comes to the two almost immediately; Harry and Ron hear hurrying feet behind them and turn to see Hermione and (Y?n) dashing towards them.

"There you are! Flying a car!?" Hermione says. "You're surely expelled?"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assures her.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" blusters Hermione.

"Skip the lecture," says Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"It's wattlebird," (Y/n) tells them.

"But that's not the point -" Hermione interupts, but her own words are cut short as the portrait of the Fat Lady swings open and there is a sudden storm of clapping. It looks like the whole of Gryffindor House is still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy arm chairs, waiting for Harry and Ron to arrive. Arms reach through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them and (Y/n) stepping in right after.

"Brilliant!" yells Lee Jordan and (Y/n) just rolls her eyes, moving across the common room to sit beside Ginny on one of the couches. The younger redhead is reading one of her school books, starting when (Y/n) sits down beside her but then she relaxes, going back to her book.

Ron is scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry can see one person who doesn't look happy at all. Percy is visble over the heads of some excited first years, and he seems to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudges Ron in the ribs and nods in Percy's direction; Ron gets the point at once.

"Got to get upstairs - bit tired," Ron says, and the two - Harry and Ron - start pushing their way towards the door on the other side of the room, which leads to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

"Night," Harry calls to (Y/n) and Hermione, Hermione wearing a scowl like Percy's.

The two boys manage to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gain the peace of the staircase. They hurry up it, right to the top, and at last reach the door of their dormitory, which now has a sign on it saying Second Years.

. . .

(Y/n) meets her sister's gaze across the common room.

"See you," (Y/n) says to Ginny and the girl looks up, as though surprised that (Y/n) is even talking to her, but Ginny waves goodbye.

(Y/n) and Hermione make their way up to their own dormitory.

Marvel greet the two sisters at the door, her paws coming to rest on (Y/n)'s knees.

(Y/n) chuckles, picking up her cat and carrying her to her bed.

. . .

The next day, Harry barely grins once. The four long House tables are laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling - today, a dull, cloudy gray. Harry and Ron sit down at the Gryffindor table across from (Y/n) and Hermione. Hermione has her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug, (Y/n) glaring a hole in the book as she eats her toast, bacon, and eggs.

"Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot," Neville says and (Y/n) grins at the boy beside her.

Harry had just started on his porridge when, sure enough, there is a rushing sound overhead, and a hundred or so owls stream in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounces off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray falls into Hermione's jug, spraying all of them with milk and feathers.

Hedwig lands on (Y/n)'s shoulder, a letter clasped in her beak. (Y/n) takes the letter from Harry's owl and she grins when she sees the handwriting.

(Y/n) gives Hedwig a piece of bacon and the snowy owl flies off.

(Y/n) zones out of the conversation as she reads the letter.

Hey, Sweetie!

I just was writing to ask how your last month with the Grangers' was, and how your trip to school was.

Everything's alright here, just missin' you a lot.

I've got Pepper to keep me company, but it's just not the same.

(Y/n) looks up from the letter as a loud roar fills the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

" - STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE -"

Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, make the pates and spoons rattle on the table, and echo deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall are swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sinks so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead can be seen.

" - LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED -"

Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. Harry tries very hard to look as though he can't hear the voice that is making his eardrums throb.

" - ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A ringing silence falls around the hall. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, bursts into flames and curls into ashes. Harry and Ron sit stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laugh and, gradually, a babble of talk breaks out again.

Hermione closes Voyages with Vampires and looks down at the top of Ron's head.

“Well, I don’t know what you expected, Ron, but you —”

“Don’t tell me I deserved it,” snaps Ron.

Harry pushes his porridge away. His insides are burning with guilt.

But Harry has no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall is moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. (Y/n) takes hers and realizes that all her classes are basically the same, only that she had Potions with the Fourth Years.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) leave the castle together, cross the vegetable patch, and make for the greenhouses, where the magical plants are kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Hermione seems to think that Harry and Ron had been punished enough and is being perfectly friendly again.

As they near the greenhouses, the four see the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) had only just joined them when she comes striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Oh, hello there!" Lockhart calls, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is!"

"Who would?" (Y/n) asks and Lockhart glances at her before looking away.

"I just happen to have met several of theses exotic plants on my travels . . ." Lockhart ignores (Y/n).

"Greenhouse Three today, chaps!" says Professor Sprout, who is looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There is a murmur of interest - the Second Years had never worked in Greenhouse Three before. Professor Sprout takes a large key from her belt and unlocks the door. Harry catches a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling form the ceiling. (Y/n) and Harry are about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hands shoot out.

(Y/n) glares daggers at the man, her eyes flaring silver and Lockhart drops his hand off (Y/n)'s shoulder.

Lockhart looks more interested now as he examines (Y/n), his eyes flicking to the scar on her neck.

"Harry! Miss (L/n)! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Word Count: 1460 words

Taglist:

@big-galaxy-chaos

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Woman Like Me

hahahaha i love little mix and the avengers so any time I can mix the two im gonna do it. 

(you should go listen to them, especially their newest album LM5)

song: woman like me by little mix

Carol: I can tell you're shy and I think it's so sweet. The thing about Carol that got you, was the fact that she was shy around you. With everyone else you noticed how she is always boisterous with the others, then with you she's quiet and doesn't talk much and she gets red.

At first you thought she didn't like you, but she'd always bring you gifts, your favorite flowers and candy. Or a couple times, she'll bring you a cupcake from your favorite bakery.

When you brought this up with Thor, Thor rolled his eyes and smiled, "Lady Y/N, she has feelings for you. That's why she's shy and keeps bringing you gifts."

You blushed at the idea, this goddess, this intelligent stunning woman had feelings for you? "No she doesn't." You shook your head, your cheeks flaming.

Thor nodded his head, "yes she does, she specifically asks me what you like so she can surprise you with it."

"Nope, nope, nope." You shook your head and Carol came in.

She laughed, "why does Y/N keep saying 'nope'?"

Thor looked at you, "I'll let her explain." He said and left the room, you scoffed and shook your head, that little shit.

Carol raised her eyebrow at you and you groaned. This was gonna be embarrassing.

"What is it? I promise I won't laugh." She said smiling, something in you blossomed, seeing Carol not get timid on you.

You stood up, "well, Thor thinks you have a crush on me," you didn't miss how her eyes widened and cheeks blushed immediately, "and I was saying nope because well...you're you. There's no way I'd have a shot." You shrugged sheepishly.

She walked forward, "well, that's what I thought when I first got to know you, about me not having a shot."

Your eyes widened as she stopped in front of you, you were at her chin. "Well, you're the only person shooting." You smiled.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's not true." And smiled, you were weak in the knees, you'd do anything to keep her smiling like that.

You laughed, either full of nerves or on some euphoric high of all the feelings you have for this girl. "Nah it's true, my vagina is probably full of cobwebs from not being used." Your eyes widened at what just flew out of your mouth.

Oh my god did I actually just say that? I said that, fucking shit she's gonna think I'm weird.

She let out a full laugh that you wanted to hear more, "I guess we're gonna have to change that."

You hummed, ignoring the blush that probably reached your toes. "Sounds pretty bold for a girl who hasn't kissed me yet."

She rolled her eyes, smiling, "May I kiss you?" "You certainly may."

Wanda: I always say what I'm feeling, I was born without a zip on my mouth.

You were arrogant, flirty, outgoing and didn't have a filter. Whereas Wanda was the exact opposite.

There was a meeting with government officials, everyone wore their best dress, you on the other hand; wore your signature all black, black jeans, with your dog tags and leather jacket. (Of course to Wanda, you always looked killer). There was certain politician/government leader that was in the room that you were famous for hating. Not a week went by without you mentioning him being a coward.

Everyone was on edge because it had to go well, it had to, but you could only keep your mouth shut for so long.

Wanda counted the minutes before you exploded; it was ten.

He mentioned something about the LGBTQ+ community, even went so far as to say a slur.

"Excuse me?" Your voice rang out. Deadly as the sharpest knives. Everyone froze, there was not a single soul in the room who was breathing, besides the prick. "You heard me," he said, in that man voice, the 'i do whatever i want, how dare you challenge me' voice.

Wanda could tell you were gonna knock him so hard his spray tan will evaporate off. "LGBTQ+ people are not awful people. And do not deserve to be electrocuted, if you think we're gonna accept that, you need to be impeached on the grounds of oncoming dementia." You snapped. "You got anything to say?" He shouted at Cap in fury. "We all agree with Y/N. I think she's handling our points pretty well actually." At that, Tony took his hand and Steve was smart enough not to look surprised.

You knew, they all knew for that matter, they weren't dating but it was quite the middle finger to give to the politician.

"This meetings over, we'll continue when you stop being a  homophobic asshole."

She tried not to shiver at your tone, you've never, and will never, speak to her like that. But hearing that tone, the 'I'm above you' tone made her flustered.

You walked around to Wanda's shoulders and gently squeezed them reassuringly. Wanda hated being in the spotlight but she also wanted the asshole to know that he was in a room with LGBTQ+ members.

He looked at Wanda (which made you want to punch him in throat) and scoffed, he walked out without another word.

Maria: And baby just be mine for the weekend, We can get a takeaway and sit on the couch.

Keeping Maria to yourself for a weekend was difficult, she was always needed but you were selfish at times. This was one of those times.

You specifically told Fury that you claim her certain weekends, he admired the fact that you didn't even ask, you told him. Because of that (and he knew you made Hill happy) he allowed it. Unless you know, the end of the world was happening.

You guys always got take out, either chinese, italian or just plain pizza. You always tried to cook but most of the time she'd insist cooking. She got a thrill over seeing you happy over a dish she made.

The weekend is spent in pajamas, barely if any makeup, movies and tv. It's the few times Maria can completely let her guard down. She puts her weapons away in the gun safe that's in your shared closet, pets your guys' cat and cuddles with you on the sofa.

Your saturdays with her consist of a horror movie marathon, either super cheesy or regularly cheesy. Even some non cheesy ones. She loves your commentary on them and you love seeing her laugh at the stupid characters.

Sundays are the days where you guys wake up at 7 to watch the sunrise on your balcony with cups of coffee, blankets and the early morning dew or fog. It's a peaceful time, you have a whole playlist for it. Then you two would head in and have a big sunday breakfast which you would invite Fury too if he felt like it (which was often because he couldn't refuse your homemade waffles).

After Fury leaves you two spend the day in bed, soaking in the time you have. Most of the time you're doing naughty activities but after when the suns setting you just lay in each others arms with the tv playing some trashy show.

You two cherished these weekends and Fury would always remark how relaxed Maria looked after one of them.

Natasha: I like my coffee with two sugars in it, high heels and my jewelry drippin'.

You brought a lot of the "girly" back to Nat, because of her childhood being robbed completely she didn't have the same experimentation as other girls who were brought up. As in no dying hair, colorful clothes and playing with makeup (when it wasn't for a mission)

You introduced her to the "self care" days, where you broke out the face masks, bath salts and you two went radio silent (with a warning to the Avengers of course). You two spent the day watching disney movies and taking care of yourselves.

You took her shopping and she ended up liking a lot of luxury brands like Gucci, Chanel and many others. She bought you a Rolex which freaked you out because wow, expensive and you don't wanna break it.

She spoils you endlessly, buying you books when you have a hard day or even brand new fuzzy socks. You spoil her back of course (she's also a sucker for fuzzy socks).

You've created a monster, she is a bad and boujie girl and makes sure people know it.

Shuri: Insecure but I'm workin with it, many things I could get rid of. Ain't about to give it up.

Of course, you were confident in yourself and who you were. But when it came to being smart, that was when you faltered in your self confidence. Your girlfriend was the princess of Wakanda and designed nearly all the technology in the country.

You always pointed it out but Shuri always rolled her eyes, "your smart in your owns way, sweetheart."

"Oh what ways?" You asked, laughing, "I can't do this formula and building stuff."

"You know how to be safe."

"Oh, common sense." She threw a paper ball at you because of your response.

"No, you know war strategy, you know how to train someone who's never been trained in their life. You know weaponry and how to prevent war disasters." She came over to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. "We would be lost without you." She kissed your cheek and swayed with you for a minute.

You knew that wasn't true, because they had generals for all the stuff you do. But T'challa and Shuri have said that you're the favorite because you're compassionate yet stern with people. Talking with Shuri made you feel better as it usually did.

Eventually your insecurities faded, of course they were still there but not as prominent. You worked hard to learn some new things relating to building things. For example, knowing how to fix some stuff if Shuri was busy or out of the country.

But you would never give up your insecurities, because they made you who you were.

[speckleflower]

Croissant for a Prince (AU Yeah August) Day 7: Royalty

“Croissants, tarts, pastries!”

“Chat Noir would like a croissant and an apple turnover, please,” said a young man who was masked in black, features hidden. He wore a hood which thick blonde hair peeked out from, and on the hood were fake cat ears. Over his back was slung a traveller’s pack.

“Of course, that’d be sixty cents, Chat Noir,” The girl behind the stall said in a cheery voice, saying the name he gave her with a laugh, pigtails bouncing as she added various baked goods to a paper bag. She wore a simple commoner’s dress, like most of the other sellers at the market.

The young man reached into the depths of the black cloak he was draped in, and drew out a coin. He held it out, then quickly brought it back before she could take it, and rubbed it clean with the corner of his sleeve. “There,” he said with a smirk. She took the coin, which was now shiny, and prepared his change. She held the small coins out to him, but he closed her hand over it and brought it to his lips for a light kiss. “Keep the change, Milady.”

“Cheeky cat,” she muttered good-naturedly, with a grin on her face. “But thank you.”

“May I ask your name?”

“You may, and it’s Marinette,” she laughed.

“Ok, Marinette! Couldn’t resist showing my respects to a purrity lady, you look pawesome. And so do these pastries,” he said as he brought a croissant out of the bag and took a big bite; flakes raining onto his shirt. “So, I’m being compared to pastries, huh?” She said with faux indignance, but he wasn’t listening. “Mmmm, this is delicious!” He exclaimed as he crammed the rest of the croissant into his mouth. She swiped at him as flakes sprayed from his mouth, threatening to land on the table. “Who raised you? Don’t talk with food in your mouth!”

“Maybe you could take a poor, stray kitty in, Purrincess?” He bowed with a flourish, looking up, head cocked, tongue slightly out of his mouth.

She giggled, “Away with you and your antics!” shooing him away with her hands.

“Of course, Purrincess! But no doubt, know that I’ll be back!” With another bow, he melted into the crowd, leaving the girl behind the stall shaking her head fondly.

------

“But I’m the Prince, Nino! I can’t go out as me whenever I feel like it, so Chat Noir takes to the streets.” A boy appeared at the door, speaking in a nervous voice with energetic undertones- no doubt he tried to control himself when he was fulfilling servant duties, but his excitement for Adrien was evident. “Prince Adrien, you have been permitted a visit to the marketplace. But you have to go with a bodyguard.” He left quickly.

Adrien looked at Nino, who was just smiling. “How did you do it?” Adrien asked in awe.

His servant, who was a best friend, in Adrien’s eyes—he treated him as nothing less than that, shrugged, “I pulled a few strings. Sorry about the bodyguard thing, though- ‘the idea of mingling with commoners alone is horrifying!’” He made air quotes, as this had been said to Adrien just yesterday by his mother, Queen Emilie.

Making fun of superiors was a big no-no, but Nino and Adrien were friends—had been for ages—and Adrien would never report him- he would be thrown out of the castle, and Adrien didn’t want to lose one of the only people who treated him as a person. Adrien hugged him, “That doesn’t matter, thank you, Nino!”

“Anytime, Adrien.”

-------

“Hello.”

“Prince Adrien, what an honour to have you at our humble stall!” The girl at the stall stuttered.

“Of course, Marine- Mademoiselle.”

“Wh- what would you like?” The girl said with a smile.

“I’d give anything to try one of those croissants agai- try a croissant, I mean.” Prince Adrien said to the girl, while his bodyguard loomed behind him.

She handed him the bag, no doubt filled with an assortment of delicious pastries, of course including croissants. Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear, “Chat’s out of the bag.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nice to see you again, Kitty.” She winked, and he gave her a stunned smile, shrugging, “What can I say? I wanted to see you again, Purrincess.”

“Anytime, Kitty. But be careful, you don’t want to get caught,” she said with sparkling eyes.

He winked as he turned away, his bodyguard’s hand on his back steering him.

@auyeahaugust

Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658449/chapters/62598865

[treytheyouthguy]

From the Journal of Craven

(I’ve recently gotten to be apart of a new D&D Group from the Geeks Under Grace Community, and one of our players wrote a summary of the first session from the perspective of her character, and it got me wanting to attempt it myself. So here goes nothing!)

Name: Craven

Race: Kalashtar

Class: Barbarian (Eventually Path of the Totem Spirit)

Age: 25

Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance: 6' 1", Dark Brown Shaggy Faux-Hawk Hair, Medium Length Well Kept Beard, Glowing Cerulean Eyes, Pale Skin

Fun Facts: Often will speak telepathically to strangers before meeting them to scare them. Has been apart of civilized society, but is somewhat socially awkward and often described as "literal". Sometimes talks to himself, or at least seemingly to himself.

It seems my travels have brought me to a city known as Galandel.

Usarus has led me to believe that we will find the help we need here, though he is getting less and less helpful. I swear, sometimes I think he likes to watch me get into strange circumstances and awkward situations.

I stumbled upon a scuffle in an alley involving a devil girl and a hooded figure. I attempted to ask the devil girl if she needed assistance, but I don’t think she likes intrusions of the mind, because she screamed at me in devil tongue.

Then, almost out of nowhere, a man claiming to be a champion of a deity named Tier? Tyr? Tire? named Valzan. He honestly looked just like the heroes from the book of stories father would read to me. The stories seemed to become even more real when he began to interrogate a ruffian. I surmised that the evil-doer was there to apprehend the devil girl.

Valzan seemed eager to help these two alley dwellers for some reason. The Devil-Girl seemed even more uneasy, yelling and calling the villain a “Slavers Lapdog”, which I couldn’t help but chuckle at. I once again attempted to establish a telepathic connection, but to no avail; the naughty nair-do-weller ignored my plea and was bent on making things worse. Two more bad men came from out of the shadows, and it was clear that this group was in for a fight.

I drew the blade that father gifted me as I became a man. I couldn’t help but think that he and mother would be proud of me: though I didn’t know these individuals, I was upholding the virtues instilled in me as a child.

I pulled my first swing, merely attempting to show that I meant business, but as I missed, I could feel Usarus’ rage coming over me. Father always taught me that if there was a way to settle a score without shedding blood, then to do so. However, the Spirit of the Forest was not as honorable, or at least not since the injustices that has fallen upon the Forest back home. His anger and fury bubbled like the stew from Mother’s cauldron.

The Heroic Valzan and the Angry Devil-Girl aided in the fight, and the Hooded Mystery Woman made sure to stand her ground, protecting the devil girl at all cost.

I could feel my body tensing up and my eyes radiating even brighter. My hands clenched the hilt of my blade ever-so-tightly, and I grit my teeth so tightly my gums began to bleed. I raised my blade high above my head, and I could hear my own voice inter-mingling with my Usarus’ as I bellowed, “YOU HAVE ANGERED THE SPIRIT OF THE FOREST!” My blade cut into the man in front me as if Usarus’ own razor sharp claw was mawing him. His torso was cleft in twain, and his blood sprayed across the brick walls between us.

I stood there, panting. I turned to see the spiritual visage of Usarus; he looked at the carnage and snorted, and then looked at me and nodded. It was as if the bloodshed pleased him.

I know that Usarus isn’t evil; he’s a protector. He can be gentle and kindhearted. He can even be playful. But lately his anger has overcome him, and he is becoming vengeful and stoic.

The other dispatched the other foe, and only one assailant remained. I had finally calmed down and rejoined reality.

Valzan literally scared the piss out of the man. I know for sure it was piss, I could smell it. But the fool decided to run. The Champiom Valzan took off and I followed. I liked his style, and desperately wanted to see how this ended.

By the time I caught up to them, the fool-hearty thug had gone limp on the ground, defeated.

Valzan complimented me, and I him. He then asked if I would take the bow shell of a man to something called the Church of Tyr. I asked what a Tyr was, but he just looked at me puzzled. I mean, I’d heard of churches, but had never been to one. Valzan was heading back to find the girls from the alley. I even tried asking the criminal now in a headlock under my arm who Tyr was, but he didn’t bother to answer.

Upon reaching the church, I was greeted by an elven woman named Alyssia. I took the man down stairs to the basement as instructed by Valzan and found out from Alyssia that apparently Tyr was a deity that she and Valzan worshipped. I had no idea that people worshipped deities! The people of my village thanked and served the Spirits like Usarus. I turned to ask Usarus about the deities, but he still wasn’t very talkative. I’m beginning to be worried about him at how long these bouts of stoicism were lasting.

Eventually my fateful allies made it to the Church and Alyssia offered us food. FOOD! Glorious food. The Devil-Girl, who was acting suspiciously cat-like, clearly wanted to eat, but was extremely timid. I tried offering her my father’s jerky, but she wasn’t having it. In retrospect, I may have knelt down and gotten a little too close when I offered.

After some convincing, the Hooded Mystery Woman convinced the Devil-Girl to eat. Later Valzan, the Mystery Woman, and myself descended to the basement to question our “guest”. Valzan asked if I wanted to be a “good cop or bad cop”, but I had no idea what that meant. He then asked if I wanted to hurt the captured criminal, and I obliged. I’m not a bad guy, but this man clearly was, and I’m pretty decent at hurting things.

Valzan poured water on the unconscious fellow, so I poured the whole barrel. Apparently that was not the way to go. Valzan payed the man a compliment, so I called him beautiful. Again, that was wrong. I could hear Usarus laughing at me, so I decided to let Valzan take the lead. The Hooded Mystery Woman held back, just watching.

The man was hired to “bring the Tiefling back to his employee”, but she had fought back and escaped. Fiery, that one, which is funny, what with her being a Devil-Girl and all. The man pleaded with Valzan and had decided to repent of his crimes and wanted to serve his time and be turned over to the authorities. I was stunned, but held my tongue, when Valzan went along with this. I mean, in the Forest, justice is decided by the strong and able creatures, and those who were weak and in the wrong suffered. But, Valzan was showing mercy. It was refreshing, honestly. I had shed quite a bit of blood in the name of “Justice”. So Valzan took the man to the proper authorities.

Upon his returning, Valzan and Alyssia explained what this church was, a place for the wronged where they could find peace and justice. They offered to let the Devil-Girl a home there. They assured her that she would be safe, fed, clothed, and that she would have her justice. The Devil-Girl seemed uneasy, and then the Hooded Mystery Woman spoke up and approached her, and for the first time, I could see the Devil-Girl resting easy, or at least somewhat. This Hooded Mystery Woman was helping her feel more comfortable.

So for the next week we all stayed together.

The Hooded Mystery Woman, or Strive as I found out her name was, seemed to have an affinity for caring for this Devil-Girl, who we took to calling her Shadow since she was glued to Strive like she was her personal Shadow. Valzan and Alyssia continued to be hospitable and accomplidating to us, as well as patrolling the streets to find evidence of the wrong-doers who descended on our little Shadow.

As for me, I just rested. I had been on such a long journey and constantly on the move that it was nice to just sit and catch my breath. Usarus finally spoke again and told me to stay put. “This group will help you find answers.” At night I would sift through the memories of my ancestors with the aid of Usarus, searching for any answers there may be for the plague that is descending on my home.

We eventually decided to leave the church and spread our wings. Alyssia stayed at the church, but Valzan served as our guide. He led us to an axe throwing game that I technically won, but decided to be chivalrous and neglected to accept the prize.....

Valzan accepted the prize offered which came in the form of free drinks at a near by tavern, which apparently is where a woman works that Valzan desperately needs to speak with. Shadow also stumbled upon some shiny glass. She liked shiny things. She reached for the glass, but Strive stopped her and Valzan offered a shiny bauble instead.

We first went to a library, which was recommended to stop at by Strive. I was happy to go, actually. I was able to ask the librarian about plagues and magics that affect plant life, and found a book on the history of plagues. I over heard Strive ask about herbalism and curitive properties and turned to Usarus. I said that she could help us, and he agreed. Finally, something to go on!

I approached her and asked about her help with my quest, and told her that I felt she was key. I blushed as I realized this may sound like I was courting her. I then stumbled over my words and finally walked away. I turned and yelled Usarus, exclaiming that he could’ve stopped me. He laughed. She laughed. I walked and check out my book, hanging my head in embarrassments shame. There was something about that woman, and it left me with my words tangled and trampled on the ground.

We then found an exotic pet store, but soon left after finding out that the OWNER WAS AN EVIL MAN! No bears?! Fine. But hedge-hogs are bear like?? USE SQUIRRELS AS BAIT!?! What a monster! I turned to Shadow and said we should leave! It was traumatic for us all.

We finally made it to the tavern on the top of the hill. We entered and Shadow immediately went to a table. The rest of us followed and soon the very woman Valzan had saught after came to take our orders. I ordered all of the sweets they had in an attempt to win over Shadow, and after Valzan asking to speak to the woman alone, we had our food and Valzan was asked to wait until things weren’t as busy. We sat and began to enjoy our food, but suddenly an elderly unkept man burst through the door, exclaiming that his daughter had been taken. Our group began to ask for details, when the entire tavern erupted in laughter.

Things are getting strange.....

[composereggwrites]

Imprint Zine: New Creators’ Spotlight

This is my full article for the twewy @imprintzine!!! There’s still digital copies available of the full zine, and some merch left too!!! It was a blast to write and work with the other participants!

If you like this and wanna chat with me about it hit me up here or in my twewy discord!!!

Ao3

NEW CREATORS SPOTLIGHT

Hello again readers, and welcome to this month’s New Creator Spotlight! We find up-and-coming artists of all types to highlight! From fashion, music, and art, we know how to find the hidden talent in Shibuya and illuminate them all for you to see!

Mr. Mew Creations

First up is Mr. Mew Creations, a new fashion brand led by the fabulous Eri and Shiki Misaki. This duo has taken the fashion scene by storm with their innovative ideas and inspiring designs. From dresses to bright three-piece suits, these two push the boundaries of how we define outfits.

The star of their debut collection is a marvelous dress suit! It’s a dress, and a suit, combined into one! The top half is styled as a silken tuxedo jacket in bold fuchsia, with a pale lavender undershirt and iridescent pearl buttons. The bottom half, however, is a skirt designed to evoke the image of an elegant ball gown. The slip is comfortable enough to wear all day, while providing a backing to the outermost layer, which is a cascade of feathers dyed a stunning cobalt blue.

They have a myriad of other pieces in this lineup, going beyond the binary while staying fashionable and comfortable. From a simple purple shirt with embroidered orange foxes along the hem, to a yellow sweater with a detailed pink squirrel on the front, there’s a wide variety to choose from!

We sat down with the girls for an interview in their studio to talk about their threads, and they had a lot to say!

Thank you for interviewing with us. Could you both introduce yourselves for our readers?

Eri: Yeah sure! Thank you for interviewing us! I’m Eri, the lead designer of our two-person team, Mr. Mew Creations! I do most of the conceptual work, putting ideas down on paper and seeing where that gets us. Shiki definitely helps with that, but her talent shines in, well-- She can tell you!

Shiki: Hah, yeah! I’m Shiki Misaki! I’m the seamstress, so I made all the outfits you can see here in our workspace! Taking what Eri gives me, I bring our ideas to life! We’re both good in each other’s field, but together it feels like we’re unstoppable. She’s handed me some amazing designs to work with, and some I never thought I’d be able to turn into reality. The star of our show, the dress, was one of those. It almost ended up in the trash on more than one occasion, actually. We had to completely redesign it multiple times because we’re both perfectionists, and because someone sees the laws of physics as a challenge to beat. Eri likes to see how far we can push things past their limits, but we work best together because I can reel her back in if it goes too far.

We’re glad you two make such a good team! What led you to make the half-dress, half-suit outfit?

Eri: We wanted to design something that ignored gender norms. Something that defied them, without defaulting to a vaguely-masculine, androgynous look. The fact that clothing is gendered is ridiculous, and there’s this idea that men’s clothing is the default when you want a “gender neutral” item. We decided to go in the opposite direction, and add as much gender as we could, without being limited to one gender.

Shiki: It, like most of our line, is inspired by one of our friends. This dress was originally designed for him, before we decided to use it as part of our lineup. Gender is weird, and the society we live in makes navigating it more confusing than it needs to be. To be able to wear what you want, without worrying about the perception others have of you, without worrying about the way you’ll be labeled? That’s the ideal we strive for, and we hope our work can make a difference.

You said your friends inspired your line. What can you tell us about your creative choices?

Eri: Our friends are unique individuals, and we are too, so we know how to take a look at what people want, and what they need. Not everyone has the perfect model body. Not everyone wants to wear the high-fashion bling, or keep up with all the latest trends. The trick is to find what people want to wear, and design that, instead of chasing what’s trendy. If it’s stylish, people will want it, but it has to look nice and fit right.

Shiki: Just because something is comfortable, doesn’t mean it can’t have style. People are going to notice if you’re not at ease in the clothes you wear, and that unease ruins otherwise perfect appearances. We custom make everything here, and as the seamstress it’s my job to take what Eri gives me for the design and bring it to life. Doing that, while taking sensory issues into account, and ensuring nothing irritates the person who will be wearing it, is of the utmost importance.

Can you tell us a bit about  yourselves and your brand? How you got started, or where your mascot came from?

Shiki: Oh! Our mascot, Mr. Mew, was the first thing I ever made. I still have the original, and I carry him around with me. My quality of work has improved a lot, but he’s a big comfort item. He helps me face all the big scary monsters of the world, and I want him to be there to help others too.

Eri: We met when we were younger, back in middle school. I’ve always been good at making friends, but Shiki was a lot more shy then. Actually, we got in an argument, once when we were 15. I was so worried, I thought I was going to lose my best friend forever over a misunderstanding. Thankfully, we worked it all out, and here we are now! She’s a wonderful seamstress, and all of our friends are so supportive, so it’s nice. I don’t think we’d be where we are today without each other, and the help of everyone in our lives.

 It’s clear that these girls put lots of effort and dedication into what they do!

These girls offer more than some great threads! The namesake of their brand, Mr. Mew, is an adorable cat, and you can get merchandise of him too! Show off your love by picking up one of their plushies, cat ear headbands, and more!

Check out their full line at https://MrMewCreations.Com

 Neku Sakuraba

The artist of the month is none other than Neku Sakuraba! If you’ve taken a walk around Shibuya, you’ve already seen his stuff! This graffiti expert has been gaining a name for himself with stunning displays of color and intricate designs. If you frequent 104 or Molco, you’ll have seen his stylish bold lines on ads for some of the stores!

He first started making waves in the art world last December, when he put up a mural in the Miyashita Park Underpass. Dubbed Hachiko’s Guardian Angel by the public, it features a glowing figure standing over Hachiko, with white feathery wings stretched out over Shibuya’s night-time skyline. There are people at the base of the statue, and musical notes fill the outer space. We reached out to Sakuraba himself for commentary, and managed to secure an interview in his studio!

The space was big, half-finished paintings and sketches scattered across the room. Cans of spray-paint, colored pencils, and charcoal were everywhere. Interestingly, we also spotted a couple Mr. Mew plushies laying around. A second guest, a friend of Sakuraba’s who insisted on being called Joshua, was also in the studio.

But without further ado, the interview:

Thanks for welcoming us to your studio! Can you give us an introduction?

Neku: Right, hi, thanks for interviewing me. I’m Neku Sakuraba. Music geek, CAT fanboy, unwilling follower of fashion trends. That one over there [he gestures toward his friend] is Joshua. Please ignore everything he says. He decided to be here for “moral support,” but I think he just wants to tease me.

[Joshua, at this, gasped, and said, “I would never!” but as requested, his further commentary has been cut from the interview.]

Got it! What inspired you to start making art?

Neku: I’ve always been a doodler. My mom has artwork from back when I was six. The big moment of inspiration for me, when I went, I want to do this, was when I saw CATs art. Looking up at the mural in Udagawa for the first time, back when I was ten, I felt a spark, and I haven’t let go of that feeling since. It’s been rough, I’ve struggled with mental health issues, but art has always been a solace in the dark. I never thought I’d make it this far, or get as much recognition as I have. It’s amazing, and wonderful, and terrifying all at once.

You first got popular because of the mural you put up last December, in the Miyashita Park Underpass. Can you tell us anything about it?

Neku: Oh, yeah! It was the first mural I’d ever done, and I drew a lot of inspiration from Shibuya. In my head, I’ve nicknamed it Shibuya’s Composition. The piece is loosely based off a dream, if I’m being honest. The glowing white figure in the center, with the wings, is meant to be a guardian of Shibuya. Someone who helps the city grow. Meanwhile, the people at Hachiko are waiting for their friend to show, but he can’t, because he’s watching from above, protecting them from afar.

Fascinating! Do you feel like there’s a story you can make from that, one you might tell in the future?

Neku: I don’t think this is ever going to be a story or comic, unfortunately. It’s more of a personal piece. A few years ago, I only had one friend, my first friend, but I lost him. When he died, I isolated myself, and it took a lot from some special people to draw me out of that shell. Even now, I wish I could see him again, and the idea of him still being out there, watching over me and my new friends, comforts me when I miss him the most. I guess I’m like Hachiko, waiting for a dead person to come home.

I’m sorry for your loss. Can you tell us anything about your other artwork?

Neku: I do a lot of graffiti-style works. There’s no other big murals out there by me yet, but I’m working on a few designs right now. People have commissioned me to do stuff ranging from tattoo designs to album covers and store promotions. One of my favorite things to do when I make art, though, is to take the mundane and re-imagine it as something mystical. Why can’t you make foxes purple? Who says there isn’t danger lurking in the shadows? What’s stopping me from adding fire and lightning as weapons, from creating fantastical fights?

Another big source of inspiration is Shibuya. I’ve grown up in this city, it’s my home. If I can look around and see things others don’t? Then I can put that down on paper. Whether it’s as simple as catching the neon lights illuminating the Scramble, or the leaves falling around Hachiko, I can see that, pull it apart, and let my imagination run wild.

That’s pretty cool. You mentioned doing album artwork earlier, so can you tell us what it was like to design the cover for the latest album by The Albatross?

Neku: It was fun! I can’t tell you anything about them, obviously, but it came as a shock when they asked me if I could take on this project. In hindsight, it makes perfect sense. But what I can say, without getting myself vaporized on the spot, is that it was enjoyable, and they’re fun to work with. Even if they’re kinda a priss. The amount of artistic freedom I had was nice, and I think we collaborate well together. So there might be more partnership between us in the future, but nothing’s certain yet.

Wonderful! With that, one last question: what motivates you to create?

Neku: Art has always been an escape for me. It can be pretty, or loud. It can shout your thoughts from the rooftops or disguise them under the rustling of leaves in the wind. You can influence others with it, if you’re lucky. I create art for myself, first and foremost. But if I can provide a glimpse into my own secret garden, and let others see pieces of who I am in my work? Then I’m glad. I want to share it. I want to make my mark on the world, and provide others with the escape I once sought.

 This up-and-coming young artist is going to be a big name someday! With his talent, dedication, and heart, Neku Sakuraba might just be the next CAT!

If you want to support him, you can find information about him, his store, and his commission prices at https://nekusakuraba.com

 The Albatross

Our final creator of the month, someone a bit less new, but never interviewed, is The Albatross! Their first album, Noise, featured CAT artwork on the cover: an albatross in flight, with TV static cutting through the image. These two are a mysterious duo, but The Albatross takes the title of most elusive. Despite gaining fame from fans latching onto CAT art, The Albatross has never given the public a single word.

Until now, that is! With their second album, Pulse, set to release in a couple of weeks, they have consented to an interview for the first time!

The album artwork was done by Neku Sakuraba, and it features a feathered white wing, sprouting from the right-hand side of the image. Some of the lower feathers have been replaced with graffiti-like designs.

As for the music itself, their first album featured orchestral tracks, heavy on the violin, alongside electro-punk tunes! Some were instrumental, while others had lyrics. Pulse is looking to be the same style, but rather than the dark themes of Noise, it contains brighter, more hopeful songs.

We went through a lot of paperwork, involving multiple non-disclosure agreements, and the interview took place over a call while they utilized a voice changer, but it was worth it! And we’re happy to share what we’ve learned with you!

Thank you for choosing to have your first interview ever be with us! Can you give us an introduction? Nothing too personal is required!

Albatross: You were the only ones I felt were trustworthy, and the only ones completely willing to honor my anonymity. Also, a friend may have bribed me into it with promises of ramen. As for introductions… I am The Albatross, composer of music, avid Tin Pin fan, and a nerd when it comes to all things Shibuyan. History, culture, the trends. I thrive off her, it’s like the city’s got a pulse that matches my heartbeat.

Shibuya is amazing, we agree. Can you tell us why you chose your alias?

Albatross: There’s a lot of symbolism in the albatross. The bird can be a sign of good luck for sailors, historically. In the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, though, one of the sailors kills an albatross, and thus it becomes a curse. He bears the burden as the other sailors hang the bird around his neck, reminding him of how he’s doomed them all. I’ll let fans keep speculating on why I picked it, though. I can’t give away all my secrets here.

Of course. We wouldn’t want you to spoil all the fun! How do you make your music?

Albatross: It’s amazing what you can do with technology! I know how to play the violin and piano, so any parts in my songs with those are actually me playing, but for the rest I use a few different music programs! For vocals, I outsource it to Shibuyan singers, but all lyrics are still written by me. In the end, I weave everything together, and finagle it so it fits.

Sounds like a lot of work. Where do you get your inspiration for it all?

Albatross: From Shibuya! This city has a life of her own. Feet tapping against pavement, voices reaching through the air, all the beeps and honks and the myriad of noises that resound in every corner; it all creates a rhythm, it creates music. Sometimes I’ll sit and let it all wash over me. The city holds so much, a million stories fighting for attention. They echo in my head, begging to be told, so I write them. I turn them into music in the hopes of expressing their messages for everyone to hear.

The tone between your first and second album has changed a lot, from what the previews are showing. Is there a reason for this?

Albatross: Yeah. I’m going to be blunt. When I wrote and released my first album, I was suicidal. Completely isolated from the rest of humanity, with no friends or good experiences to fall back on for comfort. My only outlet was music, and because I was so depressed and misanthropic, my work reflected this. I saw the world as poisoned, felt like people would never change, and thought my existence contributed to the negativity.

But now? I have friends. Someone entered my life, not quite of their own free will, but they stuck around. They dragged me into the sun, undoing all my self-sabotaging attempts, and they helped me grow. Helped me learn to see the good in humanity again. Shibuya is full of life, full of creativity, of people trying to do their best and help others. I wasn’t able to see it before, vision clouded with my own preconceived notions, but they… Removed the tinted glasses from my face, so to speak. And this is why my new album is more hopeful and lighthearted.

You mentioned mental health, just now. Are you able to elaborate on any of that?

Albatross: Mhm, I can. It’s not pleasant, but… Mental health isn’t talked about enough, even though it impacts so many people. I’ve had depression for years now. I still do. Some friends and a few bonding experiences doesn’t magically cure everything. There is no magic cure. What helps is finding people you can rely on when things get tough. If I lock myself in my apartment, I used to hide away for weeks. Now, though? One of them comes knocking after a few days, with ramen and orders to shower. Sometimes it can feel like you’re going to shatter into a million pieces. But instead of falling apart in secret and cutting myself on the shards of glass, I have people who hold me as I break, minimize the damage, and help me piece myself back together.

Recovery is not a straight line, and there’s no end to the winding trail you take. What’s important is having friends there with you. People who help you stand up when you stumble, who help you make camp when you need to rest. Find someone who makes you feel safe enough to fall apart. Someone who can be there to pick up the broken shards, and help you create something new and beautiful with the pieces.

 The Albatross is still a mystery to us all, but hopefully their words and music have reached those of you who need to hear them!

They don’t have an official website, but you can find The Albatross on your preferred music streaming service, or head to a local music shop to pick up their stuff! Don’t forget to pre-order their newest album, Pulse, and if you haven’t grabbed Noise yet, be sure to snag that too!

And that’s all for our New Creators Spotlight this month! Be sure to get next month’s issue for all our latest stories, and to discover the up-and-coming talents of Shibuya!

[ebaeschnbliah]

M O N S T E R S   I N C

________________________________________________________________

... and it’s stunning similarities with Sherlock BBC

MONSTERS, INC  is a computer-animated comedy from 2001, produced by Pixar Animation Studios and distributed by Walt Disney Pictures. A modern fairytale, so to speak. I stumbled across this movie by accident while researching the ‘221b door’ tag on my blog and found an old tweet from Arwel Wyn Jones (x) posted during the filming of Series Four.  Watching the movie turned out to be quite the eye-opener.  :)

It’s not so much the plot of that movie but rather certain images which remind me strongly of Sherlock BBC. A lot of images, to be precise, but also some dialogues and one distinct voice. Watching MONSTERS, INC really left me speechless at times.

Related posts:  The Monsters are loose  (initially I’d chosen to name this post ‘Monsters Inc’ but that was before I watched the movie)   Overlaps    Playing with skulls (soon)   Laughs or Screams, additional informations

The ‘monster post’  is waiting below the cut for the fearless  ….  :))))

For anyone who hasn’t seen the movie:  MONSTERS, INC mostly plays in Monstropolis, a city in a parallel universe. The only places where the monster- and the human-world can connect, are the closet doors in children’s beedrooms. Here skilled monsters - the ‘scarers’ - appear at night to harvest the screams of terrified kids. Just like in the human world, the majority of the monsters aren’t evil, nor mean they any harm to the children. Monsters are actually more scared of human kids than the kids are of them. The harvested screams are badly needed because they provide the energy which is necessary to power the monster’s world. And because children are constantly becoming less easily scared, the screams decrase more and more, which means that an energie krisis threatens.

Initially the storyline for MONSTERS, INC  had been a different one though:

Pete Docter's (director and writer) original idea revolved around a 30-year old man dealing with monsters, which he drew in a book as a child, coming back to bother him as an adult. Each monster represented a fear he had and conquering those fears caused the monsters to eventually disappear.  (X) 

The logo of MONSTERS, INC,  the powerstation where screams are harvested to light the Monster’s world, combines the symbol of the eye and the letter M. I simply can’t help unsee a certain similarity with the logo for TheGameIsNow. That’s quite thought provoking, to say the least. 

The two leading characters in the monster world are scarer James P. "Sulley" Sullivan and his best friend and roommate Mike Wazowski, who is also his assistant at work. A big blue, fluffy guy wearing horns and a short, one-eyed, green guy who prefers to sit in a green egg-chair …. a bit similar to the one from the stagnight scene inTSOT.

Sulley holds the top position among all the scarers of Monstropolis. With military-like training Mike takes care that his friend stays in best form. 

Hey! Less talk, more pain, marshmallow boy! Feel the burn! You call yourself a monster?

The most successful scarers are celebrated like stars. Everyone knows them. They can’t go anywhere without being recognized and asked for autographs. And when they enter their company it looks like a hero parade. 

Future scarers have to undergo a special training in a high-tec simulation room. Here they are taught everything of importance, including the art of scaring children most efficiently in order to get the perfect scream. 

Listen to the lady in front of the surveillance screens who teaches screaming (at 01.40) …. but beware … she sounds an awful lot like Eurus Holmes ….

And this is the big boss, the chairman of MONSTERS, INC … Mr. Waternoose. He is very proud of his job, which has been passed down through his family for three generations. He acts as Sulley’s mentor and holds great faith in him as a scarer. Additionally …. he reminds me very much of Mycroft in TAB.

The monsters believe that harvesting screams is enormously dangerous, because children are deemed to be toxic, that their touch could kill them. Agents of a special task force - the Child Detection Agency - are on constant alert to neutralize any contamination with objects belonging to the human world. 

As soon as anything suspicious has been detected, the ‘big bad bouncy red alert’  goes off, cameras zoom in and then CDA agents enter right through the skylights to take care of the problem. Like AGRA in Tiblisi , really! I couldn’t help a yelp watching this little scene below ….

And then ..... shaved by AGRA … sorry, by CDA, of course ….  :))))

The day comes, however, when the unimaginable happens and a human child enters the monster world. And Sulley, the most famous scarer of all, is almost scared to death. I’m really tempted to call this an ‘Eurus-efffect’ ...

Thankfully, Sulley also has a heart of pure gold. He overcomes his fear - a little bit - and takes the human child home. His partner Mike is definitely not amused but helps anyway. Courageously, the friends prepare for the worst case scenario ...

Sulley, the Viking, with shield and horned helm and Mike, who seems to have ransacked the kitchen Cabinet instead. The little ‘killer-girl’ though is completely unimpressed ...

The evening starts rather chaotic, which results in some remarkable accidents …   I guess I know now where the idea of shoving a big pack of cigarettes into Sherlock’s mouth comes from …. and maybe Sherlock’s spraying attack on the CIA agent in ASIB as well.

Finally the situation calms down. Sulley beginns to supect that human kids might not be toxic after all. The little girl has a real crush on the fluffy, blue monster. She believes Sulley is a big cat and starts calling him ‘Kitty’. Looks like ‘killer girl’ is a cat lover. :)  Against Mike’s advice, Sulley decides to give the girl a name as well. He settles for ‘Boo’ because she likes nothing more than to scare him.

And Boo likes to draw …. Spoiler: Boo doesn’t burn down the house.

Eventually Boo gets tired. A trace of goodies (not breadcrumbs) leads the little girl to bed.

By the way: The book based on the film gives Boo's "real" name as Mary Gibbs, the name of her voice actress. (x)

The architecture of Mike’s and Sulley’s flat … the wide arch in the living room and in Sulley’s bedroom (Mike’s bedroom is never shown) … instantly reminded me of the very similar structure chosen for the 221b Baker Street livingroom set in PILOT.

What would any fairytale be without a good old-fashioned villain. In this case it’s a villain who looks suspiciously like a Chinese dragon. And naturally, where there is a dragon there needs to be a dragon slayer as well.   

Randall, the dragon-like monster is one of the most wicked characters in Monstropolis. He works as scarer but holds only the second place on the company’s success-list behind Sulley. Randall’s envy is huge. He is driven by his desire to displace his opponent from the top of the list. One can safely say that ‘murderous jealousy’ is a good description of Randall’s motivation. But his plan to capture the all-time scare record, only scratches the surface of his sinister agenda. 

But before it comes to the ‘slaying’, the nasty reptile tries to torture Mike, to find out where the missing human child is hiding. 

Randall:  SAY HELLO TO THE SCREAM EXTRACTOR!   (Jim in TAB:  Well, say hello to the virus.)

This is what Randall has created in a secret lab to prevent the looming energy crisis of his world … a machine to harvest the screams of children by force and not through the acting skills of trained scarers. Mike’s unimpressed answer to this realisation: 

Mike:  WELL, SOMEBODY'S CERTAINLY BEEN A BUSY BEE    (Mycroft in TEH:  You have been busy, haven’t you? Quite the busy little bee.) 

That’s not a joke … and the way down to the secret lab looks strikingly familiar as well ...

Needless to say that Sulley arrives just in time to rescue his friend … but that’s not the end of the story and also not the end of similarities with Sherlock BBC. 

Some nice little images in-between:  a fish mobile from Boo’s bedroom in which Sulley gets tangled up in, a toy train, a toy ship and a toy plane from the high-tech simulation room. Rater similar items can be detected in Sherlock BBC as well (TST, MHR and TFP). Especially the plane reminds me of the one Eurus’ plays with near the brook.

More familiar images:  

the prominent display of the letter M - often in combination with an eye 

a precious littel thing ... Boo, who wears pink underneath her disguise as monster, hides in a bin

a rather ‘big G’ painted on a wall

And there are eyes wherever one looks ...

Even contact lenses can be found ...

Mike’s love interest is a lady with hissing snakes for hairs, who works as receptionist in their company …. 

At one point the hero’s life is threatened by a deep fall, caused by his opponent, Randall, the nasty ‘dragon’. 

Seeing Sulley’s life threatened, Boo overcomes her fear of the reptile-like monster. She attacks him violently. This gives Sulley the time he needs to get out of the critical situation. 

And WOW!!! What changeable creature this villain is ……. even Jim ‘I’m so changeable’ Moriarty would be inmpressed. 

Randall’s exceptional talent for any kind of masquerade is also demonstrated in a little scene involving a portrait of the company’s chairman, Mr. Waternoose.   

The face of a chairman, covered by something related to a dragon … this reminds me instantly of TBB and Sir William, the former chairman of the bank, whose face had been covered with the yellow spray-paint, applied by a member of the Yellow Dragon Circus. 

To their dismay, Sulley and Mike discover that Randall isn’t just a jealous colleague. What is far worse, the changeable villain doesn’t work alone. His partner in cirme turns out to be none other than Mr. Waternoose, the big boss of the company. The two of them intend to use Boo for their experiments with the scream extractor, while Sulley and Mike get banished from Monstropolis and are sent into exile .. to the Himalayas. No return expected. 

There is no plane involved as in Sherlock’s case, but strictly speaking, the way in which the ‘sending into exile’ happens, can indeed be seen as a variation of ‘flyihg’ … 

Snow falls at the place where they land, somewhere in the Himalayan mountains.

While the Himalayas, more precisely Tibet, is closely connected to Sherlock’s hiatus after Reichenbach, the falling snow can also be found in TAB, the place Sherlock finds himself in, as a result of his ‘going into exile’ at the end of HLV … London in the winter 1895. 

And it doesn’t take long before the dark shadow of a scary creature falls over them … a seemingly monstrous creature which is covered all over in ‘bridal white’ fur  ….

May I introduce you to ….  Yeti, the ABOMINABLE snowman!

"ABOMINABLE"!  CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?  DO I LOOK ABOMINABLE TO YOU?  WHY CAN'T THEY CALL ME THE ADORABLE SNOWMAN OR...OR THE AGREEABLE SNOWMAN, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD?  I'M A NICE GUY. 

He is really a very nice guy and helps Sulley and Mike to get back where they came from and where they are badly needed by Boo. Randall is not amused but this time it is him who looses the game.

Yeti’s nickname was inspired by the Abominable Snowman from the 1964 animated special Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (X).  Knowing this, one could view that bridal-white character also as a sort of Christmas connection. :))))

And have I mentioned those horns?

Some more lovely images:  a shot from the inside out of a small box (without a severed head in it though), no fire-extinguisher but it looks like one, silhouettes behind glass, safety helmets (X) and ... flickering screens ….

At the story’s finale, the simulation room from the beginning - a bedroom on a stage with a ‘fake’ victim lying in it and with a moving wall - I’m not kidding - becomes the ‘confession room’ for the main culprit. And of course, every word of his confession gets recorded. Somehow this reminds me strongly of another scene … another film … what was it again? It’s on the tip of my tongue ….

It turns out that chairman Waternoose had already been under close observation by CDA undercover agent 001 - code name Roz (not AMO). An elderly, quite steely lady, who turns out to be his superior. Waternoose gets arrested and Sulley becomes the new chairman of MONSTERS, INC.

Now the time has come for Boo to return to the human world. Sulley takes the little girl back through the closet door into her room, where they part after a big good-bye hug. 

Then the closet door which leads to her bedroom gets shredded, to prevent any future contact. But Boo’s short visit to the monster world had a huge impact. It proved that a child's laugh has ten times the power of a child's scream. The energy crisis of Monstropolis is solved. From now on laughter is harvested instead of screams and the power generated this way, is enormous. Mike turns out to be best harvester for laughs ever. 

Because Mike knows how much Sulley misses the little human girl, he collects and secretly reassembles the pieces of Boo's shredded door so that it can be activated again. 

The End

The song "If I Didn't Have You" won the Academy Award for Best Original Song.

Mike: ♪ But I must admit it. Big guy, you always come through. I wouldn't have nothin' if I didn't have you. ♪ Mike and Sulley: ♪ You and me together. That's how it always should be. One without the other don't mean nothin' to me. Nothin' to me. ♪

Sulley: ♪ I don't have to say it. 'Cause we both know it's true.♪ Both: ♪ I wouldn't have nothin' if I didn't have... I wouldn't have nothin' if I didn't have... I wouldn't have nothin' if I didn't have you. ♪ Mike: ♪ You! You! A-E-I-O... That means you. Yeah. ♪

And doesn’t this almost sound like …. ‘just the two of us against the rest of the world’? 

Hopefully you enjoyed the rather long ride. I can highly recommend this movie to anyone. It’s so much more fun watching it with ones own eyes than just reading a summary. This said, I leave you now to your own deductions. Thanks for reading that far. :)

August, 2019

[gryffindorcls]

Chat For a Day:  Chapter 2

I’m Gonna Kill Him

Adrien woke up thirty minutes before his alarm was set to go off.  He tried to go back to sleep, but the knowledge of what his day had in store made him vibrate with excitement.  He felt extremely awake.

Much to Plagg’s chagrin, Adrien sat up mulling over his plan.  Everything was ready.  Last night, Adrien spent hours looking up new puns and jokes.  Before going to bed, he had messed with his hair in the bathroom mirror to find the perfect balance between his usual style and Chat Noir’s.  Even his clothes were laid out on the couch.  He found it amazing (and a little sad) how effortless his personality shone through when he was transformed and how difficult it was to execute in his civilian form.  Nonetheless, he was ready.

“Kid,” Plagg grumbled, “go back to sleep.  It’s too early for all this nonsense.”

“I’m already up, Plagg,” Adrien responded, “Besides, you’re just going to sleep in my bag all day.”

“It’s not the same as the bed and you know it!” the Kwami shouted as Adrien shut the door to the bathroom.

As Adrien got ready for the day, he could feel a slowly building nervousness settling in his gut.  After showering, he pulled on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black overshirt.  He carefully styled his hair and sprayed it into place with plenty of product.  Once he was satisfied with his look, he slipped on a pair of bright green converses and sauntered out of the bathroom.

“So, how do I look?” Adrien asked hesitantly.

“You look like you should have already gotten me some cheese,” Plagg said crossing his arms.

Adrien glared at his Kwami.  “Plagg!”

The tiny being scoffed.  “Ugh, fine.  You look like you, Adrien.  I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”

“I just want to get this right.”

“Isn’t the whole point of today for you to have fun?”

“I want to look the part.  I want to be authentic.”

Plagg threw his hands into the air.  “You are Chat Noir!”

“Yeah, but everyone else doesn’t know that,” Adrien responded with a snarky tone.

“Whatever, kid.  Just let loose and be yourself.”

“I’m trying!”

Plagg flew away and landed on Adrien’s desk.  “Today is definitely going to be an interesting day,” he grumbled.

Adrien walked over to his Kwami.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see,” Plagg teased.

“Well, that’s annoyingly vague.” Adrien rolled his eyes.

“I am thousands of years old.  I don’t need to be clear.”

“It doesn’t matter.  We need to go.  Could you get in my bag?”

“Is there cheese in there?”

“Yes.”

Plagg zoomed into the bag without responding.  Adrien gathered his belongings and walked out the door.  He was ready for this.

***

Marinette was NOT ready for this.  She spent most of the previous night panicking amidst Tikki’s pleas for her to go to bed.  Sleep evaded her almost the entire night.  While laying under her comforter, she played out hundreds of scenarios in her mind.  After sleeping for about four hours, Marinette woke up frazzled, nervous, and bleary-eyed.

“Tikki,” she groaned, “I think I’m dying.”

“Oh, Marinette,” her Kwami sighed, “You’re not dying.  Just come home and take a nap during your lunch break.”

Marinette yawned.  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

Tikki flew over to her chosen and patted her comfortingly on the cheek.  Marinette’s eyes suddenly grew wide.

“Except I can’t come back here!” she exclaimed, “I have to talk to ADRIEN.  Why did I let Chat talk me into this?”

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do,” Tikki stated.

“No, that’s not it.  I WANT to do this.  Do you know how badly I just want to be normal around Adrien?  It’s going to take a miracle though.”

Tikki turned her head and mumbled, “Yeah, be careful what you wish for.”

Marinette gave her Kwami a confused look.  “What?”

“Nothing, Marinette,” Tikki brushed it off, “Let’s just try to have a good day.”

The teen squinted. “O...kay.”

Marinette walked over to her mirror and attempted to smooth out her bedhead.  She applied some eyeliner and a pop of lipgloss.

She then opened her closet and scanned her choices.  As an aspiring designer, Marinette knew how the right clothes could give you a much-needed confidence boost.  She decided to channel her inner Ladybug and put on a red, knee-length dress.  She paired it with black leggings and black flats.  She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath.

“You can do this,” she thought to herself, “You are Ladybug.  You just need to be YOURSELF.”

“You look great, Marinette,” Tikki broke through the silence, “but you should really get going because if you wait any longer…”

“You’re going to be late!  It’s time to go to school!” a distant third voice cut off the Kwami.

Marinette looked at the time on her phone and gasped.

“Oh, no!  Not again!” she exclaimed.

Tikki zoomed into her purse.  She then picked up her belongings and bounded down the stairs.  Finally, she grabbed a pastry without stopping and ran through the door.

***

Adrien opened the car door and stepped out.  He took a deep breath, stood up straight, and walked up the stairs leading into the school’s courtyard.  He saw Alya and Nino engrossed in conversation.  They didn’t notice him...yet.

“Here goes nothing,” he thought.

Adrien quietly padded up behind them and said, “Good morning, fantastic friends!  I hope you two are feline good today.”

Alya squealed and Nino jumped almost a foot into the air.

“What the freak, dude!” Nino glared at his best friend, “Where did you come from!  And, bro, we talked about the puns!”

After taking a moment to compose herself, Alya cocked her head to the side and asked, “Are you method acting right now?”

“Am I what?” It was Adrien’s turn to be confused.

She squinted at him.  “Is there another Ladybug and Chat Noir movie coming out or something?”

“No,” he replied.

“Then what’s with the getup and the puns?  Are you trying to channel your inner Chat Noir today, Agreste?”

“No, I’m just trying to be myself.”

“What are you talking about?  You’re never like this.”  Alya gestured to all of Adrien.

“Actually, babe,” Nino said clearing his throat, “He does this sometimes.  I’ve heard him attempt probably some of the worst puns on the planet.  Seriously, sometimes I question whether he’s Chat Noir’s long lost twin brother or something.”

Adrien chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.  He offered Alya a toothy smile.

“Uh huh,” Alya scrutinized, “That still doesn’t explain the outfit, sunshine.  Do you have a photo shoot today?”

“No,” Adrien grinned, “I wanted to try something mew.  I for one think it looks paw-sitively purrrr-fect.”

“Dude.” Nino’s hands rested on his temples as he shook his head.

“You know what,” Alya put her hand on Adrien’s shoulder, “Whatever makes you happy.  I think this is one of the first times I’ve seen you with a genuine smile.”

“Really?” Adrien asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, bro,” Nino chimed in, “The puns may make me groan, but it is nice to see you looking happy.”

Adrien beamed and put his arms around Nino and Alya’s shoulders.

“Thanks, you guys,” he said with joyful tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly, Adrien felt himself being ripped away from the tender moment with his friends and into the tight grasp of something unwanted.  He looked up and saw Chole dragging him across the courtyard.

“Adrikins!” she shouted in his ear causing him to wince, “What an interesting look today!  Ugh...I just had to get you away from those losers.”

Adrien planted his feet firmly on the ground causing the snobby blonde to stop in her tracks.  He then proceeded to remove her hands from his arm and take a step away from her.

Once he deemed there was a healthy distance between them, he stated, “Actually, Chloe.  Alya and Nino are my friends, and I would appreciate it if you stopped saying hurtful things to them.”

Chloe looked stunned.  She tried to speak, but the only sound she made was an offended huff.

“Also,” Adrien continued, “I really don’t want you hanging on me like that anymore.  It kind of makes me uncomfortable.”

“Adrikins,” Chloe choked out while shaking her head, “I don’t understand.”

“Okay,” Adrien rolled his eyes, “Allow me to clarify.  Please respect my personal space and my friends.  Being polite and considerate never goes out of style.”

Before letting her respond, he bowed, turned on his heel, and walked away.  Upon returning to Alya and Nino, he was met with disbelieving stares and gaping mouths.

“What?” Adrien questioned.

“Dude,” Nino responded, “that was...wow.”

“Wow is right, sunshine!” Alya noted, “I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Not wanting to dwell on the past few minutes, Adrien quickly changed the subject.  “Come on.  Let’s get to class.”

Nino and Alya looked at each other and shrugged.  The trio then walked up the stairs and into their first classroom for the day.

***

Marinette ran into the classroom with five minutes to spare.  She rushed to her seat without greeting anyone, flopped facedown onto the desk, and groaned loudly.  She was exhausted.

“Girl, what happened?” Alya asked with concern lacing her voice.

Without lifting her head, Marinette mumbled into the desk, “I barely slept last night.”

“Is something bothering you, Princess?” she heard a voice say through her fatigued haze.

It took a moment for her brain to process what was happening.  

“There is only one person in Paris who’s called me ‘Princess’ before,” she thought.

Marinette looked up and squinted.  Her eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the bright lights of the classroom.  The sight before her was still a little blurry.  She could just make out a mop of blond hair and a glint of green.

“No…” she whispered, “it’s too early for this.”

The blond mop turned it’s head to the side.  “Too early for what?”

She rubbed her eyes and focused on the person in front of her.  Her eyes turned into saucers when she realized who she was talking to.

“ADRIEN!” she panicked, “Morning is good...I mean...it’s morning...I MEAN YOU’RE MORNING….I MEAN...ugh nevermind.”

Marinette slammed her head back on the table and groaned.

Adrien chuckled, “Cat got your tongue, Princess?”

She slowly raised her head again and looked at the boy in front of her.

Without a hint of nervousness in her voice, she stated, “That’s what I thought you called me.”

“Well, at the risk of sounding too fur-ward, it only seems proper to address someone as paw-sitively purr-ty as you with a fitting title,” Adrien remarked with a smirk.

“Holy…” Alya murmured.

“Dude,” Nino bumped Adrien’s shoulder.

Marinette squinted...hard.  She knew her mouth was agape, but she didn’t bother to close it.  She was too busy trying to solve the jumbled Rubix Cube in her brain.  Surely she was hallucinating.  It was just a trick her sleepless brain was playing on her...right?  

Then, it hit her like a wrecking ball on drywall.

“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly.

“Marinette,” Adrien gasped with worry starting to pool in his eyes, “are you okay?  You look a little pale.”

She took a deep breath and looked at Alya...who was recording with her phone.  Her best friend had documented the entire thing.  Marinette decided that she couldn’t deal with this right now.  She needed a moment.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said to her friends with the steadiest voice she could muster, “I’m not feeling very good.  I’ll be right back.”

As Marinette stood to leave, Adrien got up, as well.  

“Please, let me help you,” he offered.

Marinette held up her hand to stop him.  “No, no.  You stay here.  Please, you need to stay here.  I just need a second.  I’ll be right back.”

“Are you sure?” he asked gently.

She nodded her head quickly.  “Yes, I’ll be back.”  

She turned on her heel and walked briskly out the door.  She passed Miss Bustier as she walked through the threshold.

“Marinette!” her teacher exclaimed worriedly, “Class is about to start.  Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Bustier,” Marinette responded, “I’m not feeling too well at the moment.  I was just going to go to the restroom for a minute.  I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, but let me know if you need to go to the nurse.”

“I will!  Thank you!”

Marinette sprinted to the bathroom.  She slammed the door behind her and scooted into a stall.

“Tikki,” she whispered loudly once the door was locked, “I know something I don’t think I’m supposed to know.”

“Oh, Marinette,” her Kwami said with remorseful eyes.

“Did you know?” she asked hurriedly, “Did you know that Adrien is Chat Noir?”

Tikki hung her head low.  “Yes, I did.  I’m sorry, Marinette.”

“So it’s true.”

“Yes, Adrien is Chat Noir.”

“Adrien is Chat Noir,” Marinette repeated.

Tikki flew up to her chosen’s face.  “Yes, I believe we’ve already established that.”

“No, Tikki,” Marinette stared blankly at the stall door, “Adrien isn’t just Chat Noir.  No, no, no.  This means that Chat Noir is Adrien.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, it’s not.  Because now this means that Adrien is one of my best friends and my trusted partner.  And this also means that...oh God...I’m in love with Chat Noir.”

“That is technically true.”

“That stupid cat is never going to let me live this down.  He knows I have a crush on him.  I told him last night!  One day when we have a house and three kids he’s going to look at me and say, ‘See, didn’t I tell you that one day you would wake up and realize that it’s me you’ve been in love with all along.  Look how great everything turned out’.”

“I’m sure he’ll treat you nicely once he knows.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong.  I know he’ll treat me like royalty.  I mean, did you see that set up he had on that roof?  There were candles and rose petals...BUT that doesn’t mean he’s not going to tease me for the rest of my life.  And...OHMYGOD, TIKKI.  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?”

“Marinette, you’re spiraling.”

She ignored her Kwami and continued.  “This means that freaking ally cat ACTUALLY voiced his own alter-ego in a movie.  Was he even trying to keep this a secret?”

Tikki put her paw on her chosen’s cheek.  “Marinette, calm down.  It’s okay.”

“I’m gonna kill him, Tikki.”

“No, Marinette!”

Marinette turned her head to the side and pursed her lips.  “You’re right.  I can’t do that.”

The red Kwami tapped Marinette on the nose in an attempt to get her attention.  The red-faced teen finally looked up.

“Are you going to tell him the truth?” Tikki asked firmly.

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, of course, I’m going to tell him.”

“You won’t have trouble talking to him about it?”

“It’s Chat Noir.  Why would I have trouble talking to him?”

“Because it’s Adrien.”

“Who just so happens to be Chat Noir.  

Her Kwami offered her a sympathetic look.

Marinette huffed.  “Look, I’m compartmentalizing right now.  You should be proud.  I’ll freak out about it being Adrien later.”

Tikki smiled.  “So, you’re going to tell him?”

“Oh, yeah.  I’ll tell him today,” Marinette shot Tikki a mischevious grin, “but I’m gonna mess with him first.”

<—Previous    Next—>

AO3

Fanfiction.net

[seromat]

What We Can Become

We are warned every day about the horrors in our reality. Women have to carry pepper spray or stun guns in fear of masked men in dark parking lots. Children have to stay in their yards because of strangers who claim to have candy in their vans. Men have to stay out of that part of town in order to avoid weapons and ill intentions. Given the modern times, most people choose to believe that all monsters are figments of imagination or symptoms of mental illness. This would be dangerously incorrect. All of the monsters that people encountered in ancient times have not disappeared. They merely have become better at hiding. As with all things, they too can adapt to their surroundings. 

It was a quiet November morning in a small town in Colorado when the lives of its people would be forever changed. Unknown to its inhabitants an ancient evil had taken a new form. This evil was on the prowl, and it wanted to inflict pain and suffering. It would accomplish its mission. 

 It was 5am when Monica Bloom was walking to her nursing job at the local doctors office. It was only a few blocks, and she did it every day. The air was crisper than usual, there was frost on the ground, and winter was fast approaching. Monica would never make it to work that day. Her office called her home phone and tried her cell. When those failed they tried her emergency contact number which was her husband Cameran. He had seen her leave for work, and knew she had not returned home. 

Cameran knew something was wrong, so he called the police. He received the usual response of waiting 24 hours to file a missing persons report for an adult. He argued with them saying that his wife was never late for work a day in her life. He knew she wouldn’t just disappear. It was no use. Cameran wasn’t happy, but he knew protocol was protocol, and if he wanted results, he would be on his own. Cameran left work and started his search at home. He looked throughout their house, and with no results, he grabbed his flashlight and began to trace her path to work. 

Cameran walked down the dark sidewalk he knew his wife took to work every day. He had his flashlight aimed at the ground several feet ahead of him. He cursed under his breath for the town not putting in street lights. He hoped for the best. Maybe his wife had slipped and hit her head. He hoped to find her alive and okay. Those hopes began to fade when his flashlight caught crimson red droplets on the cold pavement ahead of him. They were small and circular, and there was just a small gathering of them at first. He took a few more steps, and there were a few more droplets. Then More steps and even more blood. Camerans pace quickened, and the faster he walked the greater volume of blood he found on the ground. He didn't want to accept what he knew to be the truth. That it was Monica’s blood on the ground. Suddenly, he came to an area where the blood stopped. He knew she had to be close by. Maybe she had been robbed and  hurt by someone. He needed to find her. He shined the flashlight around, and looked left and right, but there was nothing. 

“MONICA!” Cameran shouted. 

He heard nothing

“Honey, where are you?!” He yelled pleading.

He heard nothing.

“Please, Please, let her be okay” He whispered to himself and looked up. 

Cameran felt a warm drop hit between his eyes. He rubbed it with his hand, but another drop fell on his hand as he did so. He shined the flashlight up and saw Monica’s body stuffed 30 feet high between branches in an oak tree. 

He screamed, and took out his cell phone to call the police and an ambulance. He kept the flashlight on his wife hoping to see her move or cry or something, and she did, sort of. Her body began to tremble and shake. Cameran hoped at first that it was her fighting and still alive, but those thoughts were quickly replaced by fear. Cameran saw a creature hunkered on top of his wife's body. He saw its eyes shine bright back at him like a cat when the flashlight reflected off them. The creature had Monica's blood dripping down it’s mouth and down its naked chest. A dog tag necklace swung as it moved. The creature looked almost human, but not. It’s teeth were sharpened to points like needles, and shoulders seemed too jagged as if there were railroad spike under its skin. Clumps of long dark hair clung to its scalp in patches.  The hands clung to Camerans wifes body with bony joints and claws caked in blood. Blood also was coagulating on what appeared to be the remains of hunting camo pants. 

This was the last image Cameran would ever see. He was full of terror, but also despair at the same time. Moments of grief for his wife's death, and fear for his life. His last moments were full of greater horror than most people will ever know in their life. Cameran screamed, but it was no use.

The paramedics and police traced a phone call to the location of the Blooms last location. They soon realized there would be no ambulance rides. No one had answered the dispatcher when the call was placed. The operator only heard some muffled screams and grunting. They had no idea what they were walking into. 

“This ones not for the faint of heart” An investigator told the Officer arriving on scene. 

“Thanks” Officer Victoria Stark said ducking under the cation tape. 

“I’ve never seen so much blood” One of the other officers said

“What the hell happened here” 

“It doesn't look like an accident” another officer said

“I thought there were two bodies” Stark commented looking at the corpse of Cameran Bloom

“They have to bring it down” The other officer said

“Down?” Stark questioned.

The other officer pointed up to a nearby tree. There, Stark saw what was left of Monica Bloom’s body. It was covered in drying blood. 

“How the hell did she get up there?” Stark said

“No person could do that” The other officer said.

Stark agreed.

“Maybe it was an animal” The officer suggested.

“I’ve never seen an animal do that. Especially not in the middle of town” Stark said.

“This is going to be a tough case” The officer scoffed.

The cherry picker arrived to bring the body down for investigation. They loaded her onto a stretcher and brought her down slowly. Once the body was down investigators took forensic photographs, and Stark headed over to get a look. The body was worse up close. It didn't seem   that there was much of a body left. You could see there were hunks of flesh, muscle, and even bone just missing. 

Three weeks later, and six more gruesome deaths, Officer Stark was at her wits end with the case. These last few deaths in town had been the worst scenes she had ever seen. The wounds were inconsistent with any predators in the area, and they couldn’t match any weapons to the murder. She decided to head outside of town to speak with a man named Kevin Rane. It was a long shot, but he was the only convicted criminal in the next three towns who hadn't been questioned. He was convicted when he was twenty, but this was ten years ago now. Stark figured questioning him wouldn’t hurt. She was out of leads.

She had the case file on the passenger seat beside her, and she glanced over to its manilla envelope. She decided to pull over and re-read it before confronting Rane. She pulled the paperwork out and set it on her lap. The first page was his criminal record. It had the usual stuff some traffic violations, one DUI, but also some dropped assault and sexual harassment charges. The final charge on the page is what he was convicted of. It was the rape and kidnap of a young girl. The police report on this case was next; it contained details and photographs from the crime. The girl was grabbed while on a hike through the woods. She was dragged into a cellar beneath Rane’s cabin. She was then raped, and in the process Rane bit and swallowed a chunk of flesh out of the girls shoulder. The bite was so deep, it took out chunks of muscle. There were photographs of the injury which made Stark sick to her stomach. It reminded her of the crime scene of the Blooms. There was just missing flesh and missing hunks of organs. No human could bite another human that deeply. There had to be another explanation. She couldn't shake off an eerie feeling it gave her.

She approached The cabin prepared for him to refuse to talk. His last crime was a decade ago, and there was no real connection between Rane and the recent deaths. She couldn’t make him talk is he didn’t want to, and she didn’t have a warrant. She was only hoping to get a feel for the guy. She knocked on the cabin door, and he didn’t answer. Stark was not surprised, but she knocked again anyway. This time she announced herself. She still didn’t get a response. She peered through his front window. The inside of the cabin looked a mess. More of a mess than a usual bachelor. Furniture was overturned and there were papers all over the floors. It didn’t look good. She wanted to enter, but she knew she didn't have permission, and she could lose her job. She decided to go back to her car and head back to the station

“Is there a missing persons report on Kevin Rane?” Stark 

“I’ll take a look at the records” The records keeper looked through some files.

“Nope, I don't see any” The keeper said.

“Well, is there a phone number or anything on him” Stark asked

“There's an address for his niece Willow, but that's it” The records lady said.

“Alright give it to me, I want to speak with her” Stark said.

She wrote down the address, and it was easy enough to find in town. It was only about a mile away from the police station. Stark wanted information on Kevin, and Willow Rane was looking like her only option.

Stark walked up to the small white house and knocked on the door.

“Hello” Willow said from behind a screen door.

“Hi, Willow Rane? I’m Officer Stark, if you don’t mind I have a few questions about your uncle” Stark said.

“Oh, of course, come in” Willow opened the door. 

“When’s the last time you heard from Kevin” She said

“Oh I don't know years ago; is he in trouble again” Willow said

“I don't know about that, I just can’t find him” Stark said

“He probably doesn’t want to be found” Willow said

“What makes you say that” Stark questioned

“He wasn’t a good person” Willow said

“You know about the crimes?” Stark asked

“I probably know more than you know” Willow said, “my dad lived with him a few years back before he went missing”.

“Your dad is missing?” Stark asked

“Officially missing, but he’s not missing, he’s dead” Willow said

“You couldn’t know that” Stark said

“Kevin Rane killed his brother because he knew too much” Willow said

“What did he know?” Stark asked

“Kevin was hurting people again. That celler of his was a one man tourture dungeon. My dad found out about it. He called me and told me, but I never heard from him again.”

“The police were never told of this” Stark said

“It’s hearsay. I didn't see it. It was reported, but when it was searched, the cellar was empty” Willow said.

“What exactly did your dad say?” Stark asked.

“He said Kevin had gotten into bad stuff. My dad found a womans head in the freezer with what looked like a bitten hunk out of her cheek” Willow said.

“A bitten hunk? He was biting them?” Stark asked

“Or eating them, who knows” Willow said, “he loved to hunt, maybe deer got too boring for him”.

“Was he always like that?” Stark asked.

“No, as a child, he was a very loving and caring uncle. He changed after his rape conviction” Willow said.

Stark Thanked Willow for her time and left. This new information made her want to question Rane even more. She felt that Willow was telling her at least what she believed to be the truth. This did not explain the recent crime activity though. No human could do that to another human. Stark knew this had to be something worse. She just didn’t know what.

Stark called in to the precinct to get a go ahead to perform a wellness check on Kevin Rane. It was a false claim, but her office didn’t need to know that. She drove back out to Rane’s Cabin. This Time she didn't knock on the front door. She went around to the side back of the house to find the cellar. The door was wide open, so she yelled down.

Kevin Rane, Police department, I need to speak with you” She said

There wasn’t a response

She pulled out her gun and flashlight and started to descend the stairs. It was cold in the cellar, and it smelt very damp. 

“Mr. Rane, This is the Police department” Stark yelled again.

She still didn't get a response, and she reached the bottom of the stairs. The cellar smelt horribly of rotten decay. Starks flashlight caught A pool of blood on the cement cellar floor, and she followed the light up to see a dead body dangling from the ceiling on a meat hook. She panned the flashlight around and saw several more bodies. It looked like pigs strung up in a butcher shop. The bodies were bloody and all were missing chunks of flesh. 

“Shit” Stark cursed under her breath and grabbed her radio to call for backup.

She turned to leave the cellar to wait for backup.

She heard a very low gurgling growl. She turned back to see a creature just a foot away from her. It stared down with reflective eyes and needle pointed teeth. Drool dripped from its blood covered mouth that was curled almost into a smile. The last thing Stark saw was the dog tag necklace around its neck that identified it as Being Kevin Rane. It was never apprehended or put down. Mysterious Deaths continue to occur. Kevin Rane transformed from a human that did terrible things into a real monster

People who do horrible acts can, and will always, become monstrous things.