#but I personally would like to look at fewer frogs

[dingbatnix]

Squish

I accidentally stepped on a baby frog the other day, (i know, I'm a horrible person) and all of it's guts were smushed out of it's side. Unfortunatly, it was stil alive, so I had to kill it :(

But! It gave me this Idea! (plus from one of Roman's (baka-monarch's) posts that I can't be bothered to find right now)

Found it!

Anyway, it's short, but do enjoy!

Word Count: 542

Warnings: Death, gore, blood, general angst, that sort of stuff

Dream glanced around. He knew the hunters were in this cave somewhere. He had seen them go into it.

He shifted his stance, scanning around the massive cave. His mind was focused solely on luring them out into his trap. Something crunched wetly and then screamed underneath his foot, and a nasty squelch sounded when he accidentally slipped on whatever it was before he managed to jerk away. 

Oh no…

A heavy lead weight of dread dropped into his gut at that horrible sound. There were few things in this world that wouldn't be dusted instantly from damage like that, fewer still that had enough body composition to be gooey. And there were very, very few creatures that could scream like a person.

Dream had a horrible feeling he knew what that had been. He immediately fell to his knees and leaned down, trying to get a better look at who he had just stepped on.

"Ant? Oh fuck," he hissed, internally cringing away. Ant wheezed out a strangled gurgle, blood starting to dribble from his mouth.

Ant's guts were smushed out of his side, mashed and smeared from where Dream slipped over them, and his legs were mangled and crushed beyond repair because Dream had stepped on him.

Dream had to forcefully push down the wave of nausea that hit him before he threw up over the smashed body of his friend. 

The poor cat hybrid's hazy blue eyes slid up to meet Dream's. The giant hurriedly shoved his mask to the side and met the cat's eyes.

"A-Ant, I-I," Dream forced down a choked whimper, hands twitching as they hovered uselessly over his mangled friend.

Dream swallowed. At this point, he thought it would be better to kill him. The pain of a respawn would be more merciful than this, this slow death of–of being crushed.

"I-I'm gonna have to kill you, Ant. You'll respawn just fine, okay?" Ant managed to stutter out a gurgle, which Dream chose to interpret as an 'okay.'

"Okay, so, I'm just going to break your neck. It'll be the quickest and most painless." Another choked sound from his friend made the giant wince.

Gently, he took Ant's head between his fingers. Blood-matted ears flicked against his skin, and Dream had to push down another wave of nausea.

With a quick twist of his fingers and a haunting snap, it was done, and Ant's smashed body puffed out of reality. The only evidence left was the thick smear of blood on the stone ground from where Dream had slid over his hapless friend’s body.

With the deed done, Dream sat back on his heels with a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face and through his hair.

"I-I'm calling off the hunt," Dream's voice shook as he spoke into the comm on his wrist. "I–we gotta go check on Ant."

His friends' concerned voices crackled over the comms, but he ignored them as he pushed himself to his feet.

Something about the way he had killed Ant disturbed him greatly. He just had to make sure his friend was okay.

He left the cave quickly, the remaining blood smeared on the stone floor weighing heavily on his mind as he started his trek to their current camp.

[emblazonet]

I have no idea why everyone in the universe suddenly seems to be OBSESSED with frogs. 

I missed something again.

[quirkwizard]

Are there any mutant type quirk's that don't have a visible change to the user?

For the most part, no. With a majority of the Mutant Quirks, the changes are usually quite overt, resulting in major changes to certain body parts or to the body as a whole. Some Quirks have fewer notable changes, at least when put next to the rest of the character designs. For example, Quirks like "Chronostasis", "Zoom", and "Food" aren't exactly obvious when you compare them to how other characters look in this series, given the where and how of those mutations manifesting. There are a hand full of exceptions to this. "Frog" might count as one that isn't as obvious, at least at first glance. "High Spec" might be applicable as well, though we can't say for certain as that was given to a non-humanoid and we don't have a frame of reference on whether or not it would alter a person. The only ones I can say with confidence are "Life Force", "Super Regeneration", and "Shock Absorption". None of these Quirks have any notable changes to the characters in question, at least as far as we can tell.

[khalixascorner]

Flirting Frogs

RSummary: Peter is trying a new spell when he gets unexpected results in the form of a unicycle riding amphibian with an over the top personality. Needless to say, Tony isn't impressed.

Read on AO3 Here

Tags: Starker, HP AU, Ravenclaw Tony and Peter, Dorks in Love, totally FF

Prologue

All of the professors thought Peter and Tony were an odd pair. Frankly, they were odd in general, especially for Ravenclaws. Peter's shyness and loyalty was more reminiscent of a Hufflepuff while Tony's boldness favored Gryffindor, and yet, the two of them were geniuses and the house of Rowena claimed them both.

And yet, Dumbledore's eyes would always twinkle when the other professors brought up the pair's latest escapade and remind them that the sorting hat didn't make mistakes. They belonged in Ravenclaw, even if no one else could see why yet.

Of Frogs and Men

If you asked Tony or Peter which house they belonged in, they'd simply shrug. To them, it didn't matter what colors they wore, only that no one interrupted their latest experiments. Their classmates never did understand the fascination a wizard could have with science, but very few of them were born to muggle families, and even fewer had the intelligence to realize what could be accomplished if you could combine the two.

However, in order to do that, they first had to master them both. And like the true scientists they were, they approached it methodically, one topic at a time, one new spell at a time, until they had learned all that the library could provide. Then they started trying to make their own.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Tony asked, reading through Peter's notes again. "Normally, you need a connection to summon anything."

"The connection is knowing the composition of the creature, its base components, and its key traits to lock in on the nearest one," Peter retorted. "It's not like wild animals have complex souls or personalities we're looking to quantify."

"Ok, but if this goes wrong, who knows what you'll get."

"My summoning circle specifies exactly what size, shape, and composition I'm calling to me. At worst, I'll get a different lizard," Peter said, triple checking his circle and spell one last time. "Now shush, I need to get this right."

Tony snorted but stepped back and held his wand at the ready. They were a team, always watching each other's backs, and it had been that way since first year potions with Professor Snape. They'd ensured their schedules matched ever since. Why ruin a good thing after all?

"Ok, here goes nothing," Peter said, drawing in a breath. "VENI RANAE!"

There's a small poof of smoke, and amazingly enough, in the center of all of it, is a frog. Of course, that's the only thing right with the picture.

"Um, Pete, darling, love of my life, is that frog on a unicycle?" Tony asked, trying to hold back his laughter, because of course Peter would somehow summon a frog on a unicycle. In a tux no less, and holding a miniature rose.

"Not a word, Stark," Peter bit out as he looked frantically over his notes. "I just don't understand."

"Understand what, mon cherie?" the frog asked, startling them both.

"The fuck-?"

"Holy shit, Tony! It talks."

"Excuse you, sir, I am not an it," the frog interrupted. "I am most decidedly a he, and I would appreciate it if you would close your mouths. You hardly look like you have the appendage for fly catching and the view is rather ghastly otherwise."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Peter said even as Tony snorted in the background. "I wasn't really expecting to get a frog with a personality and it's a bit shocking. If you'll give me a moment, I'll reverse the summons."

The frog stops and looks at Peter more carefully before bowing gracefully from his unicycle.

"Not to worry, fair prince," the frog said smoothly. "An easy mistake to make. I am Mercutio, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Tony eyed the frog with an odd look on his face as Peter continued reading his notes while absentmindedly answering the frog.

"Nice to meet you as well, Mercutio. I'm Peter. That's my boyfriend, Tony."

Tony waved his wand but was dismissed by the frog, causing the older boy to huff.

“I’m sure there’s no need to rush, dear prince,” Mercutio said. “Perhaps we could get to know one another. Go for a night on the town. Dancing, dinner, romantic candlelight?”

That made Peter stop and look at the frog dead on.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”Peter asked, because surely he didn’t hear the frog flirting with him.

“A date, my prince, I’m trying to ask you on a date,” Mercutio said, offering up his miniature flower. “It has been so long since I’ve laid eyes on one who shines like the very moon brought to life.”

“Alright, that’s enough out of you, Leggy,” Tony said, striding over. “For one, that’s my boyfriend you’re hitting on there, and for two, this isn’t the Princess and the Frog, so don’t be expecting a kiss, Fly breath.”

“Cad! How dare you try to speak for the prince!” Mercutio retorted, turning back to Peter. “Fai, don't let such a scallywag order you about!”

Peter just chuckled and leaned into Tony.

“Sorry, Mr. Frog, I’m afraid even if this was the Princess and the Frog I’d be of no help,” Peter said with a small grin. “Tony’s already stolen my heart and is the only one I kiss.”

“Of all of the ridiculous things,” the frog muttered. “How dare you summon me here and not at least allow me the pleasure of a date. I am a man of needs and fine tastes, and yet you would seek to deny me?”

“Yeah, I think I’m seeing how you pissed off a witch or wizard and got yourself cursed into a frog,” Tony said with a huff. “How long will it take to send him back, Petey Pie?”

“I’m still looking. It should just be the reverse order but I used the latin for come instead of bring, so now I’m not sure if I should use go or return or leave to send him back.”

Peter looked quite contrite but Tony just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, babe, I got it,” Tony said, an evil smirk crossing his lips. “I know just where to send this thing.”

Tony picked up the loud mouth frog in one hand and had his wand at the ready. Then, before Peter could argue, he opened the window and flung the frog as hard as he could, yelling “VOLITO!” at the last second before the frog was totally out of sight.

“Tony, what did you do?!?!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said, dropping a kiss on Peter’s cheek. “I just flung him towards the Forbidden Forest and cast a float spell on him. With any luck, he’ll drift right into one of the watery parts where he can flirt with lady frogs for the rest of his days.”

“Tony-” Peter tried to chide him but the other boy just stole another kiss before heading back to their workbench.

“So you love me, huh?”

“Of course I do, you idiot.”

Epilogue

Dumbledore chuckled as he read the latest reports from Hagrid. Apparently they had a new resident in the Forbidden Forest, though he seemed to be an unwilling one if the long line of complaints the groundskeeper reported were true. Perhaps he’d reach out to the local witches and see if anyone was missing a frog familiar. It could probably wait though. Much to do and so little time.

[fatehbaz]

The time I met the nicest snapping turtle and the most furious softshell turtle. I was a child. I was forced to go visit some far-removed extended “family,” the kind of passive-aggressive and authoritarian people who took in a distant cousin for a weekend and treated you like an obnoxious dog or something, people who I was only slightly familiar with, which made me uncomfortable. “Family” not being something that I ever consistently had access to, “family” not a concept I was (or am, honestly) used to, “family” being something I only knew less of as time passed. They had a job which they were contracted to do that day. They brought me to a decaying industrial site in northern Appalachia, a paragon of Rust Belt gothic, to clean out the junk from a riverside lot that was scheduled to be redeveloped. My impression:

It felt like that stereotypical scene of pulp Americana, where a middle-aged man sits in a construction job-site trailer, flies buzzing, an old outdated fan from the 1970s unhelpfully churning warm air, and he, face half-obscured in shadow, hires a bunch of 19-year-olds to go to a post-industrial site to “take care of things.” Despite it still being morning, everyone is sweating, nobody is happy. A developer, dealing under the table in cash only, who despite owning several private properties is somehow always on the verge of bankruptcies and calls you from a landline after midnight on Tuesday night to offer you $150 to spend the next morning chugging gas station coffee before clandestinely salvaging some rusted metal from an overgrown property he may or may not actually own.

You wouldn’t know how far you were from Morgantown, Pittsburgh, or Zanesville because of the nature of the hills, hills everywhere, always obscuring the horizon, and the density of western Appalachian slopes’ deep green foilage drunk on late spring rain. I was the youngest person present, like a fragile goofy dainty pre-teen stowaway, barely tolerated on their Gruff-and-Serious Mission to tromp through the stagnating mud to reclaim bent rusted metal in the oppressive humidity. Pungent vernal pools. Too many toads and frogs to count. And in the flooded oxbows, and where the rain puddles collected in gravel, there were two turtles, and both of them were tiny little babies that could fit in the palm of your hand. One was a snapping turtle, the other a spiny softshell.

I almost saw this as a spiritual experience, because: (1) I actually lived far away, nowhere near this kind of humidity, where there were much fewer reptiles and amphibians, in a region at the extreme range limits of both of these turtles, where these turtles were rare. Acres and acres of degraded cattle rangeland or barley monoculture. Not very friendly to streams. There was also yucca-covered badlands, shortgrass prairie, sagebrush steppe. Friendlier to reptiles generally, but not generous in providing streams for the turtles. However, if circumstances aligned, and you paid attention to the humidity and the insects and the goings-on of the prairie, you might be lucky enough to sometimes see a snapping turtle or spiny softshell in little stock ponds and vernal pools in the “wide-open” prairie. They were like harbingers of ... something special, I guess.

And it was also a “spiritual” experience because (2) they were my two favorite North American turtles, at least at that time, partially because they both had interesting distribution ranges on the edge of their range, and I often went out looking but could rarely find them, so the auspiciousness of seeing both species together was cool.

And both turtles are so unique. The snapping turtle is like a dragon or dinosaur, full of personality and charisma. The serrated shell, the rough skin, the mass of muscle escaping bursting out and escaping the shell’s confines, the long dragon-like, almost-horned tail. And spiny softshells are almost alien. The dramatically long neck, the unique flat pancake shell, the leathery soft texture of the shell, they’re highly aquatic even for a turtle, etc. Softshells can sit at the bottom of a river, and extend their neck up to the water’s surface, so that they can breath, like a submarine’s periscope. And they’re very skittish, very fast when you encounter them and they retreat, just a blur, like an apparition.

So these, like, dudes in their twenties, seeing me watch the turtles, they all wanted to either (1) take the turtles home as “pets,” or (2) kill and eat them. (!!! But don’t worry, everything was fine, I eventually convinced them to save the turtles, to re-release at the river nearby.) But for a while, these people placed both turtles together, each in a pail with some water, the pails side by side.

You know how snapping turtles have a reputation for being fiery, grumpy, dangerous to handle?

This little snapping turtle was - to this day, still - the most passive and pleasant turtle I’ve ever encountered. Just completely calm and charming. I swear she was smiling. The dudes “babysitting” me were insisting on handling the snapping turtle to demonstrate their fearlessness or some other bullshit. I don’t like handling reptiles and amphibians unless its necessary for their own safety (remove them from the road or residential yard, transplant amphibians from a dangerously drying vernal pool, transplant a rattlesnake to somewhere it won’t be killed, etc.). But this time, to keep these dudes from harassing the snapping turtle, I was the one who would take it, and place it back into the wet pail after each of these guys had Proved Their Courage or whatever. This snapping turtle, not once did it appear agitated or aggressive. Nervous and uncomfortable with the harassment? Yes, but not a violent turtle.

But the softshell? Violent turtle. In the best way. The two turtles were polar opposites.

To this day, that was the angriest turtle I ever met. Hissing, clawing, wriggling, biting. I was 110% vibing with this softshell, because I shared its righteous fury. This turtle didn’t want to be harassed by these guys, treated like garbage. I myself was not enjoying being teased and harassed by these guys. They had spent their down-time that day fishing for and arbitrarily/sadistically killing carp and catfish to toss to the crows.

The softshell, the snapper, and I, all hostages.

To this day, I still love these two “alien” turtle species.

The turtles ended up being transplanted somewhere safer. So did I, when I returned “home.” The turtles lived. So did I, I guess.

[cosmicpines]

OTGW Dream-Unknown Comic Lore

Hey! Thought I’d make a post about the “ongoing” (now finished) post-series OTGW comic and the implications it has to the lore of the show, since I’m not sure everyone has read them.

Big Note: these comics are only dubiously canon! None were written by Pat McHale.

Other Big Note: I think assigning hard “mechanics” to how the Unknown works defeats the purpose. It is mean to be loose, fairytale like, shepherded by emotion. Putting a stamp on “this is how they get in and out” and “this is exactly what happened” doesn’t make sense -- part of the point is we, Greg, and Wirt don’t know exactly what the Unknown is.

That being said, i still think it’s fun to look at the facts presented in the comics and see if we can figure out a bit of what’s going on. This post is long because this is who I am as a person, apparently.

TLDR: Wirt and Greg can be brought to the Unknown during their dreams, potentially for multiple days in one night. They are there until they both realize they are dreaming and they solve the problem they were brought there for.

Right off the bat, in issue 1, we find out that Greg can go to the Unknown in his dreams -- in this case, because Jason told him that there was a “new case” for them to solve.

He briefly wakes up and goes back to sleep (probably because they wanted to show Wirt in issue 1.)

Greg doesn’t seem surprised to find himself in the Unknown; quite the opposite: Jason is telling him about a “new” case, implying that this has happened before, possibly multiple times. We have no idea how long after the series this takes place, only that it’s either fall or winter, judging from their pajamas.

Greg doesn’t offer us any other insight to what’s going on, but, eventually, Wirt shows up in issue 4.  He asks Greg what he’s, and later they, are doing here, implying he did not choose to come and they don’t always come here at the same time.

Wirt is particularly interesting that he seems to think they may not be able to leave again, as he brings up on 2 occasions.

However, this may just be because he doesn’t know he’s dreaming.

(Yes, that’s Sara. More on her later.)

A detail that I think is important from the show here -- then, Wirt also couldn’t remember entering the Unknown, since he seemed to think he and Greg were lost and not, you know, drowning in a river. I think it’s very possible that when you enter the Unknown, you forget how you got there. Remembering that is key to being able to escape.

Sara tells Wirt he’s dreaming, and from that point on, he no longer waxes about being trapped: he instead tells Greg he wants to go home, as seen in issue 12.

When Greg and Wirt split up to solve the last mysteries:

This implies that they don’t have to go home together and, at this point, they are more or less capable of going home whenever.

Issue 16 brings them both home, Greg after revealing Hero Frog’s intentions and getting Jason elected mayor:

And Wirt after he and Sara defeat the Shapeshifter.

(poor wirt lmao)

I think these puzzle pieces can lead to a conclusion: They can only go home from the Dream Unknown once they are both aware that they are dreaming and they solve whatever problem they were brought here for. Once they do, they can go back whenever they want. 

After waking up, Greg immediately checks on his brother.

Solidifying that they remember what happened, and, implying at least, that they don’t always get home at the same time. I can see scenarios where one sits in the other’s room, waiting for them to wake up...

We ultimately don’t know how often this happens, what triggers it, and how aware they are of the whole thing. Judging from their reactions to being there and going home, I feel like this sort of thing happens often enough, but not so often that it’s exhausting and/or terrifying... once a month, maybe?

If that rate increases, though... well, that’s just some fun fanfiction fuel.

Some other observations:

1. Greg and Wirt may not experience things exactly the same in the Dream Unknown.

When Wirt first shows up, he makes this comment:

“A bunch of nightmare stuff” seems a little... extreme, for what Wirt was doing, as said ghost was a beaver in a sheet. 

Issue 6 offers a potential explanation. The framing device for this issue is a tavern keeper asks them why they look so tired, and Greg and Wirt both tell the story of having to sit in a location all night to meet someone, but their stories vary wildly. For Greg, they were on a stage. For Wirt, they were in a graveyard.

Both stories have seriously different levels of Wirt’s enthusiasm,

and how creepy it is.

I won’t pretend that this is canon that they’re experiencing it differently; it’s definitely possible that one or both of them are unreliable narrators. Certain details, like Wirt singing, point more to that, but others, like Wirt getting eaten by a demon horse, is... a lot more extreme, haha.

This is also partly refuted later in the comic, as Greg and Wirt get separated but visit the same places, which are largely the same.

But still, it’s a fun idea.

2. Sara is here

Yeah, so, this can either be adorable or terrifying.

All Sara really says about her being here is that she thinks this is a lucid dream where Wirt is a person in it, which Wirt never presses her but come on Wirt please press her cause what the fuuuuuuckkkkk????? Sara ultimately doesn’t seem to know what the Unknown really is, since she only refers to it as a lucid dream.

Three explanations I can think of:

1. Her line “I’m having a lucid dream and you’re a part of it” could be meant to imply that the opposite: Wirt is the one having the dream and has dreamed up a Sara to adventure with him.This Sara is just something Wirt has created to join him in the Unknown, and the real Sara isn’t involved or aware of this at all. This isn’t the first time the Unknown has created a Sara, if you consider Distillatoria canon (which... ehhhhh......  I have Opinions about that lol)

2. Sara has been to the Unknown before. If that is the case, it either happened recently, since Wirt is surprised to see her there, or Sara has been doing this for a while and they just haven’t run into each other. Her saying it’s just a dream isn’t incorrect, and if she doesn’t think Wirt is really Wirt (that the Unknown created him), there’s no reason for her to be like “hey, we’re in a dream recreation of purgatory that apparently has a grasp on my soul for all eternity.”

3. This is the first time Sara has been to the Unknown, and Wirt unintentionally brought her along. This one has the least evidence towards it, but I think it’s interesting. Greg is able to bring his stuffed raccoon with him to the Unknown, so why can’t Wirt bring the consciousness of his crush and/or girlfriend?

Another thing to think about when considering this: Wirt and Greg are in the Unknown in their Halloween costumes. I like the idea that whatever you wore to the Unknown when you go is what you always wear when you’re there. Sara is all dressed for an adventure, with a cute green cape, a huge backpack, and a bee mask (specifically to trick the shapeshifter).

So I’m not sure what she might have been doing to be wearing this and then end up in the Unknown... Either she’s into LARP, she got into a hiking accident while wearing a sick cape, she changed clothes after arriving in the Dream Unknown, or her outfit is part of Wirt’s dream.

No idea which explanation is “correct;” I think they’re all interesting to play with!

3. Jason has relatives in the Unknown

Apparently the Hero Frog is Jason’s dad???

Which is... fascinating, considering they found Jason before going into the Unknown.

I think I read ages ago a theory that Jason is originally from the Unknown and got out somehow, as he is a lot more intelligent than a real frog should be. Who knows, though.

It’s probably also of note that Jason is the one who instigates them entering the Unknown, “telling” Greg there’s a mystery to solve.

4. Multiple days pass by in the dream

This is “fun...”

Day 1: Issue 1 (Greg’s arrival) - Issue 4 (Wirt’s arrival, diverging story)

Day 2: Issue 6 (morning after diverging tale) - Issue 7 (Greg sneaks around bird town, Wirt encounters a ghost)

Day 3: Issue 9 (Greg goes over a mountain. There’s a very fast day-night cycle here, but I think it’s for comedic effect. Wirt arrives in bird town and meets up with Sara.) - Issue 11 (Greg joins some “highwaymen”) /12 (Wirt and Sara help a sick goose)

Day 4: Issue 12 (Greg, Wirt, and Sara meet up in frog town) - Issue 14 (Greg spies on Hero Frog, Wirt and Sara get taken by an orphanage)

Day 5: Issue 15 (Greg/Wirt/Sara make their plan, Greg goes home before nightfall in 16) - Issue 16 (Wirt and Sara defeat the shapeshifter)

This is 5 full days they spend in the dream. Some of them are a lot fewer events than would happen in a day, and it’s very likely time is moving faster in the dream, but... jeez. That’s got to screw with your mind if this happens too often. Like, imagine the worst case scenario where they go to the Unknown every night and spend 5 days there every time! I doubt this is the case, but holy shit.

5. Beatrice, the Woodsman, Lorna, and the Beast are nowhere to be seen

This is more of an observation, but there is not even a passing mention of any of these three. Either they were all checked in on their first dream adventure, or they can’t remember that first adventure while in the dream too clearly...

There’s a ton of fun theories that you can make out of the Dream Unknown. Is the Dream Unknown the same as the Halloween Unknown? Are the boys souls claimed by the Unknown forever? Will it keep calling them back, night after night, until they go back permanently? How does this effect their healing from their trauma? Are these dreams going to increase or decrease in frequency? Do they always last exactly one night? Can Wirt fall asleep in class, spend a week in the Unknown, and wake up before the end of the period? Can Greg go to bed for the night and not wake up all day, but only have been in the Unknown for a few minutes? Does time pass in the Unknown without them there? In the Dream Unknown, will they always be the age that they originally were when they entered the Unknown? Does anyone else in the Unknown do this? (at some point, I want to do a theory post about who is from the Unknown and who is from the “real” world...)

Anyway... this post completely ran away with me. Hope you enjoyed! Send me your theories; I’m itching to hear them!

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 9

3rd Person POV

Hermione, who had come back with (Y/n) the day before term had started, takes a different view of things. She is torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row - "If Filch had caught you!" - and disappointment that he hadn't, at least found out how Nicholas Flamel was.

(Y/n) had opened her mouth to say something, but Fred and George had darted across the Common Room and dragged her away and towards Oliver Wood, her three friends staring after her, and catching her apologetic gaze before Oliver snaps at her to pay attention.

Oliver seems to be working the Quidditch team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood is becoming a fanatic, but Harry and (Y/n) are on Wood's side. If they win their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, they find that they has fewer nightmares when they're tired after training.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Oliver Wood gives the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall of their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" Wood orders. "That's exactly what'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George Weasley really did fall off his broom at the words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he splutters through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going go be fair if me might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of team - besides (Y/n) - land next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," says Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Which is all well, thinks (Y/n), but I don't need a repeat of what happened last time, whoever did it.

The rest of the team hangs back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry and (Y/n) sprint straight back up to the Gryffindor common room, where they find Hermione and Ron playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron though was good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," says Ron when Harry sits down beside him and Hermione shifts to make room for (Y/n).

Then Hermione catches sight of (Y/n)'s face. "What's wrong?" she asks, a worried look on her face and Ron looks over at (Y/n).

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry tells the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," says Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron offers.

"Pretend to break you leg," Hermione says.

"Really break your leg," at Ron's words, everyone turns to him.

"I can't," says (Y/n), then she signs. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville topples into the Common Room. How he had managed to climb through was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone but (Y/n) and Hermione laugh, and (Y/n) leaps up an performs the countercurse. Neville's legs spring apart and he gets to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" (Y/n) asks him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Malfoy," says Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urges Neville.

"Report him!" (Y/n) agrees with the brunette.

Neville shakes his head. "I don't want more trouble," he mumbles.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Harry says.

"He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier," Ron says.

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville chokes out.

(Y/n) feels around in the pocket of her sweatshirt and pulls out a chocolate frog. She gives it to Neville, who looks as though he is about to cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," (Y/n) says.

"The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin?" Harry finishes.

"Thanks, (Y/n), Harry ... I think I'll go to bed ... D'you want the card (Y/n), you collect them don't you?"

As Neville walks away, (Y/n) looks at the Famous Wizard card.

(Y/n), reading the card, smacks herself in the face and everyone turns to her. "I found him!" (Y/n) hands the card to Hermione and she sprints upstairs and grabs a alchemy book from her nightstand.

"I never thought to look in here," (Y/n) says, sprinting back downstairs and over to her friends. "Snape gave me this a few weeks ago to read."

(Y/n) opens the book and flips through the pages. "Nicholas Flamel is the only know maker of the Sorcerer's Stone."

This doesn't have the effect she had expected.

"The what?" ask Harry and Ron.

"Honestly, don't you read?" Hermione asks.

"The Sorcerer's Stone," (Y/n) begins pacing back and forth, her friends watching, "it was a legend, but I guess now it's true." (Y/n) runs a hand through her (H/C) hair. "It can transform any metal into pure gold and can produce the Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker immortal. If I remember correctly, Flamel just turned six hundred and sixty-five."

"The dog must be guarding the Sorcerer's Stone!" Harry begins.

"I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone removed out of Gringotts!" Hermione finishes.

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" exclaims Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it!"

At Harry's mention of Snape, (Y/n)'s mouth spreads into a frown.

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," says Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

. . .

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron are still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that (Y/n) remembers about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," she tells the other five. "If I don't we'll be behind in the cup. If we win, I'll show them ... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Ron comments and (Y/n) shoots him a incredulous look.

As the match grows closer, however, (Y/n) becomes more and more nervous, whatever she told her friends and sister. The rest of the team isn't very calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it in seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?

Harry doesn't know whether he is imagining it or not, but he seems to keep running into Snape wherever he goes. At times, he wonders if Snape is following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons are turning into a sort of weekly torture for Harry, Snape seemingly getting worse in each class. Harry didn't see how he could - yet sometimes he had to horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

(Y/n) knew, when they had wished her and Harry good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see her alive again. (Y/n) hardly hears a word of Oliver's pep talk as she pulls on her Quidditch robes and picks up her Nimbus Two Thousand.

Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did (Y/n) know that her friends had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They had gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any signs of wanting to hurt (Y/n).

Back in the locker room, Oliver Wood had taken (Y/n) aside.

"Don't want to pressure you, (Y/n), but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

(Y/n) nods, a determined look on the Seeker's face.

"The whole school's out there!" says Fred, peering out of the door. "Even - blimey - Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry and (Y/n) exchange looks. "Dumbledore?" Harry asks, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred is right, there's no mistaking that silver beard.

Harry could have laughed out loud with relief. (Y/n) was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare hurt (Y/n) if Dumbledore was watching, Harry thinks. Maybe that's why Snape is looking so angry as the teams march onto the field, Harry thinks, which Ron notices as well.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," the ginger tells the other girls. "Look - they're off. Ouch!" Malfoy had poked Ron in the back of the head.

"Oh, sorry Weasley, didn't see you there," Malfoy grins at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long (L/n)'s going to stay on her broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron doesn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, is squinting fixedly up at (Y/n), who is circling the came like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they chose people for the Gryffindor team?" says Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awards Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter and (L/n), who've got no family, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money - you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville goes bright red but turns in his seat to face Malfoy. "I'm worth twelve of you Malfoy," he stammers.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howl with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves are already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about (Y/n), "I'm warning you, Malfoy - one more word -"

"Ron!" says Hermione suddenly, "(Y/n) - !"

"What?! Where?!"

(Y/n) had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which draws gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stands up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as (Y/n) streaks towards the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, (L/N)'s obviously spotted some money on the ground!" says Malfoy.

Ron snaps. Before Malfoy knows what's happening, Ron is on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitates, then clambers over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, (Y/n)!" Hermione screams, leaping onto her seat to watch as (Y/n) speeds straight at Snape - she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione watches to see Snape turning on his broomstick to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches - the next second, (Y/n) had pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in her hand.

The stands erupt; it had to be a record, no one could remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! (Y/n)'s won! We've won! Gryffindor's in the lead," shrieks Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging a beaming Pavarti Patil in front of her.

(Y/n) jumps off her broom, a foot from the ground. She couldn't believe it. She had done it - the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors come spilling onto the field, Harry sees Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped. Harry lands beside (Y/n) and they feel a hand on their shoulder and they look up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," says Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry and (Y/n) could hear.

The Gryffindors run to lift (Y/n) onto their shoulder; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed.

Harry leaves the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He leans against the wooden door and looks up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. (Y/n) had done it, she'd shown Snape. . . .

And speaking of Snape . . .

A hooded figure comes swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walks as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Harry recognizes the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner — what was going on?

Harry jumps back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he sees Snape enter the forest at a run; he follows.

The trees are so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he hears voices. He glides toward them and lands noiselessly in a towering beech tree.

He climbs carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stands Snape, but he isn't alone. Quirrell is there, too. Harry can't make out the look on his face, but he is stuttering worse than ever. Harry strains to catch what they are saying.

". . . d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus . . ."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," replies Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Harry leans forward. Quirrell is mumbling something, but Snape interrupts him.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I —"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," says Snape, taking a step towards him.

"I-I don't know what you —"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hoots loudly, and Harry nearly falls out of the tree. He steadies himself in time to hear Snape say, "— your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't —"

"Very well," Snape cuts in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."He throws his cloak over his head and strides out of the clearing. It is almost dark now, but Harry can see Quirrell, standing quite still, as though he was petrified.

. . .

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaks.

"We won! (Y/n) won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping (Y/n) on the back."And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin!"

"Everyone's waiting for you and (Y/n) in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens," Ron continues.

"Never mind that now," says Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this. . . ."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus'— I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through -"

"So you man the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" asks Hermione in alarm, (Y/n) shifting thoughtfully on the desk she was sitting onto of.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," says Ron.

Hermione glances over at (Y/n), who is sitting silently, a thoughtful expression on her face. "What is it?" (Y/n) asks.

"The thing about the loyalty confuses me," (Y/n) says, jumping off the desk. "Who would Quirrell need to prove his loyalties lie to? Dumbledore right, what if Quirrell is trying to get the stone? What if that whole stuttering thing is an act? I've never been a hundred percent about him myself."

Ron shrugs her off, "It must be Snape."

"Not necessarily, not to be rude or anything, but I'm his favorite student," the others nod in agreement. Then (Y/n) turns to Hermione. "Who was sitting behind Snape at the first Quidditch match?"

"Quirrell," Hermione says.

"My point exactly," (Y/n) says but Ron and Harry shrug her off again.

"It's definitely Snape," Harry says and (Y/n) shakes her head and walks back to the Gryffindor Common Room alone.

Despite herself, she grins when she portrait whole swings open and the Common Room erupts into cheers as she steps through. Oliver and Fred come over and lift (Y/n) up onto their shoulder and everyone begins to cheer:

"(Y/n)!"

"(Y/n)!"

"(Y/n)!"

Word Count: 2963 words

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Ch. 4

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you're in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family's past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn

A/N: This is also posted on ao3 under @allie_win. I’m transferring it over here, pls let me know if you like it! I love your comments! Just a note that any italics means thoughts.

(series masterlist)

~~

“You will divide into three groups of your choosing. Although you don’t always get to choose who you work with, I would like to see how you young students create your own best possible team.” All Might continued to explain.

A couple of students already grouped together. You saw Uraraka, Midoriya, and Iida smile at each other as if already thinking about possible strategies in their head.

“For this game, your team will have 10 minutes to hide your flag on your part of the city. We have played this game before with only two groups, but adding a third team will help create confusion and randomness to the game.”

You looked toward the large city, wondering how you would be able to navigate something so big. You didn’t see any street signs, which meant you had to purely go off of image memory.

“After 10 minutes, an alarm will ring, and the game will begin. If a team collects all three flags and hold them for over 10 minutes, then the game ends. If this class struggles to finish the challenge, we will end the game early and determine a winner based on the strategies and abilities used.” All Might finished his speech and smiled at the class again. “So, please arrange your teams.”

You gulped. There was no way people would want to team up with you. They already knew everyone and you were the outsider. Not only that, but your power was not very offensive and wasn’t the best option for a game like this. You stood there, watching as groups formed. Your heart raced, wondering what team would have to take you after everyone decided.

Iida, Midriya, and Uraraka were practically attached at the hip as they joined Tsu and Tokoyami. You also saw Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari walk up to Bakugou as if the team was destined from the beginning. Jirou and Mineta followed Momo onto a team with Shouto.

Everyone was forming teams so quickly and you stood, sweating and anxious. A few people smiled kindly at you, but you couldn’t get your nerves up to actually walk over and join them. Ashido had joined with Kirishima and Toru was finding a team with Orjirou which meant you couldn’t even cling to them considering they were so willing to separate.

However, just as you were about to give up hope on actually being chosen, Mina smiled at you and waved you over. “Y/N! Over here!”

You found the courage to walk over to her, surprised she actually called you over.

When you arrived, Mina began talking to the boys again. “Like I was saying, with Y/N being able to hear our thoughts, she can help us communicate. Bakugou always runs off on his own, not talking to anyone, but with Y/N, Bakugou can run around all he wants without fear of screwing us over.”

You were surprised how technical she was, seeing as she had always been more cheerful and almost ditzy in everyday activities.

“On top of that, if Y/N were to go after a flag, she could make all the opposing people just fall asleep!” Ashido added, getting excited at the idea.

Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima all smiled and nodded to each other, also getting excited at the idea.

You smiled down to your feet, happy that Ashido was able to add you to a group. You looked up to see Ashido grabbing Aoyama and the boys smiling at you.

“Nice to see you again,” Kirishima greeted.

“Yeah,” You mumbled back.

Kaminari was next to greet you. He grabbed his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Kaminari Denki,” Kaminari kissed your hand and winked at you.

“I know.”

Everyone looked at you as the words slipped through your mouth. So far, the only people who knew you watched the sports festival were Mina and Toru. You didn’t know why it made you so nervous to tell the group of men surrounding you. Maybe it’s because Sero and Kaminari did so badly during their sparring rounds. I don’t want to embarrass them.

“I saw you at the sports festival. It’s pretty popular in America,” You mumbled a response to the confused looks. “But it’s nice to meet you too, Kaminari-san.” You responded, taking back your hand that was still holding. You weren’t one to touch people often because it was hard not to get a glimpse into their emotions and it felt invasive when they didn’t know.

And you were right, he did get embarrassed knowing you saw his fight against that girl.

Finally, Sero greeted you. He smiled brightly and waved. “Hi, Y/L/N-kun, I’m Sero Hanta, but I guess you know that from my horrible fight against Todoroki.” Sero chuckled at himself and scratched the back of his head, similarly to Kirishima from that morning.

“Hi, Sero-san,” You replied. “And don’t feel bad, Todoroki is very strong.”

Behind the three boys was Bakugou, who looked at you briefly before turning his head away to look into the sky. He was analyzing the city, trying to memorize every turn and any possible pattern.

With Aoyama, your team made seven. So, you and Ashido walked over to All Might where he had orange, green, and blue armbands and headbands, made to differentiate between the teams. You carried the orange bands back to the team, everyone put on a headband and an armband onto their left arm.

Orange meant that you would be in section three. Tape outlined the three sectors, so it was easy to make your way to the sector. Once you arrived, your flag was front and center. It was orange and placed in a stand that you could move.

“I think we should put the flag on top of the highest building. That way no one can surprise the people guarding it.” Kaminari spoke. Sero and Aoyama nodded in agreement

“If we put it up high, it will be easier to see from the other sectors,” Kirishima responded, looking up to which building would be the tallest.

“Hmm, well, where else could we put it?” Kaminari responded.

“Can we move the flag as we go?” You asked, looking at the city around you.

“I guess so,” Ashido responded. “All Might had never said anything about not being able to move it once you place it.”

“I think we should have a couple of people guard the flag towards the back, keeping it low to grab the least attention. Like, literally lay it on the ground and don’t even keep the stand because it’s useless if we are mobile. If it gets too crowded, you can call me for reinforcements. While waiting for us, go up to the skies and I’ll make my way back with whoever I can,” You spoke, looking around to see where to hide it initially. “Back there would be good.” You pointed at a spot with a wall and two buildings surrounding it.

“I like that idea,” Sero responded.

“Me too,” Kaminari added.

“Let’s do it, then,” Ashido commented. “How should we split up?”

“I can guard,” Kirishima said.

“So can I,” Sero started. “I can set up traps to catch people.”

“Mineta might have the same idea, so we need to watch out for him,” Bakugou mumbled, finally joining the group. “Aoyama, you should stay with them, guarding. Kirishima can block, and Sero can trap people so we need someone more offensive to stay behind. The rest of us will go together.”

“Who should we target first? Midoriya, right?” Kirishima asked.

“Let me think,” Bakugou mumbled. “Who is with Deku and who is with Half-and-Half?”

"Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, Tsu, Tokoyami, Kota, and Sato are on a team. Shouto, Momo, Jirou, Hagakure, Ojirou, Mineta, and Shoji are on the other,” Aoyama responded.

Bakugou gave a confused look to Aoyama.

“Deku is with big eyes, speedy, frog girl, dark shadow, rock head, and sugar rush. Todoroki is with tall girl, earphones, invisible girl, tail guy, purple weirdo, and arm guy,” Kirishima responded with a sigh.

“Ahh,” Bakugou mumbled as he thought.

“Does he seriously not know anyone’s names?” You whispered to Ashido.

“He still calls me Pinky because he thinks Ashido Mina is too hard to remember,” She responded, rolling her black eyes in his direction.

When Bakugou started speaking again, you looked back at the temperamental blond. “I think Midoriya’s team will be harder to beat, depending on who is guarding. I think we could outsmart most people on Shouto’s team that would guard. I want to fight Deku, but I think he is gonna be going after flags. And it might be easier to take the flag from Shouto first. After we have his flag, we are going to be a bigger target and will need more people guarding.” Bakugou wasn’t really going anywhere with his analysis and he was more talking to himself than anyone else, but it was all incredibly well thought out. Everyone paid attention to him, waiting to see if he would create the perfect plan.

“So, we attack the blue team first then? Because it’s easier?” You asked, tired of waiting for Bakugou to come to a conclusion. You only had so much time before the game would start and you would hate to not even have a plan made up.

“No,” Kirishima responded. “Shouto’s Blue Team will be easier to defeat. With fewer people to attack, we can still defeat them. We will need more people defending against our flags once we have Deku’s.”

“Exactly,” Bakugou added. “It doesn’t really matter anyway though. We are going to win regardless because we have someone as great as me.” He smirked towards his team.

You could almost hear the crickets echoing in response to Bakugou’s confidence. It seemed like everyone was used to Bakugou acting like this in games and completely ignored it.

“Okay! Sero and Aoyama, let’s go get set up,” Kirishima spoke, disregarding Bakgou’s ego. Kirishima grabbed the flag and walked toward where you had originally pointed.

You, Ashido, Kaminari, and Bakugou made your way towards the Green Sector. Bakugou flew up to fly across the buildings and get a better look. Ashido slid around, leaving slippery acid in her wake. You and Kaminari casually walked and chatted up a plan on how to split up as you made your way to the line. You pulled out your earbuds and placed them into a secure pocket on your belt.

You wished you could use your knives and swords, but tried to forget about it. You needed to learn how to only use your quirk anyways. The weapons helped, but they didn’t help you and your quirk get better. Maybe I should remove the sword from my costume and just keep the daggers and boots for now. That way I can’t just rely on it during my fights.

You four hung out around the barrier for a few minutes until the round started. Ashido and Kaminari chatted with each other while Bakugou perched himself onto a building to get a better look at the city. You kept to yourself during this time, instead of listening to Bakugou’s thoughts. You were sure he was going to run off as soon as the timer went off and knew you needed to listen to his thoughts to keep your team together.

Bakugou jumped down from the building and landed in front of you. Can you hear me? He asked you.

You nodded in response.

Honestly, you were shocked and trying your best not to look scared at his sudden appearance. You still weren’t over what happened a couple of days ago and it made you even more nervous than he seemed to not even remember, or maybe care.

Good. You need to trust me in this battle, okay? You can’t talk back to me if we are far away so I may just need you to do as I say.

“What if your plan isn’t good?” You responded. Bakugou may make you nervous, but you still wanted to win.

“Hey! Shut up, idiot! Of course, I’m going to have a good plan!” Bakugou glared at you. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he saw your skeptical face. “I want to win just as much as you. If not more. I’m not going to sabotage us.”

“Fine, but I’m not just going to blindly trust you. Don’t run off too far, okay?” You responded.

Bakugou didn’t respond, he just grunted at you, turned away and used his explosions to push himself back up the building.

When the buzzer went off, Bakugou and Mina pushed ahead, going in opposite directions to look for the Green Teams flag. They were much faster and could cover more ground than you and Kaminari who followed behind, running together. Once the flag was located, presumably by Ashido or Bakugou, they would tell you and you and Kaminari would follow them. Then you would use Kaminari to create a big enough reaction to attract whoever was missing.

You and Kaminari ran through the city, staying towards the middle to cover as much ground as possible. You looked down each street, trying your best to see anything that seemed off or weird.

The first thing you saw was Iida running down a few streets down towards the Blue Team’s sector. It was only for a second, but you knew it was him and you were relieved to know that they weren’t targeting your team. Unless they were splitting up.

You focused your mind to hear the thoughts of those close to you. Mina and Bakugou hadn’t seen anything yet. You heard Uraraka, Tsu, Koda, and Sato thinking about their flag and realized they must be guarding it. They have more guards than you guys set up. Worst of all, you didn’t know that much about anyone’s quirks, excluding Uraraka who you saw fight in the sports festival.

“Kaminari, I think the flag is in the sky. Uraraka is guarding it, she probably put it all the way in the sky. Even if we find them, we might not be able to find the flag,” You spoke, regulating your breath while running through the streets.

“You serious? You could at least use your quirk to hear their thoughts if they think about where they put it.” Kaminari responded.

“Yeah, hopefully.” You both went silent again. You tried to focus harder to hear others' thoughts. Your suspicions about Midoriya’s team targeting Shouto’s team first were right. You heard them thinking about how to beat certain people on the Blue Team. However, something that confused you was when you heard Ojirou.

Ojirou was on the Blue Team, but your radar of thoughts only went to the Green Sector and Kirishima in the Orange Sector. That meant that Shouto’s team was also going for Midoriya’s team.

Shit. You really wished you could share your own thoughts with others.

“The Blue Team is also targeting the Green Team,” You told Kaminari. He looked towards you and nodded, noticeably more panicked than before.

“Can you tell who from the Blue Team is here?” He asked you.

“Gimme a second,” You mumbled, concentrating on distinguishing all the voices you were hearing. Although the voices flowed naturally into your mind, it was more work to keep certain voices out, create ranges, and distinguish voices when you couldn’t currently see them. “It’s Ojirou, Hagakure, Todoroki, and Shoji.”

“So they are probably going to use Ojirou and Hagakure’s quietness to try and sneak it away while Shoji’s and Todoroki’s power distracts everyone,” Kaminari responded.

Honestly, you were quite surprised by his analysis, especially considering he didn’t come across as very intelligent. Nevertheless, he knew these people better than you and probably learned their strategies from other Hero Course Days.

“I can use my hearing to locate Ojirou and Hagakure to take them out, but this fight may come down to just pure power,” You mumbled. Fear started coursing through your veins, worried that Todoroki’s power might take you out. He was so strong and his long-range attacks in the festival were faster than you could predict. Fighting him head-on might ruin you. You couldn’t get close to him at all. There wasn’t anyone else who could refrain from close combat.

Just then, a green blur hopped across the street a block down from you. Both you and Kaminari stopped in your tracks, worried that the green blur might attack.

Just as we predicted, ribbit. Both the Blue and Orange Teams are targeting us. It will be difficult to defeat two teams. I should go get Midoriya or Tokoyami.

You couldn’t let her get more people. No way. You needed the Green Team to be as weak as possible. “We have to stop her,” You told Kaminari. “Follow me.” You ran after her as fast as you could. She wasn’t too far, but she was faster than you. “Kaminari, can you electrocute her?” You asked, as you both rounded the corner and her green image came into view.

He nodded and sped up just slightly. “My aim isn’t as good when I’m moving, but maybe I can trap her .” Kaminari bent down and glided his hands across the ground as he continued to run towards Tsu.

Tsu was completely unaware that you and Kaminari were following behind her. She wasn’t even hopping as fast as she could, making it easy for you to catch up. Maybe this would actually work.

“Electro-Trap!” Kaminari shouted. Sparks of electricity traveled through the ground towards Tsu. Once they caught up to her, the sparks shot up and surrounded Tsu at all angles. Kaminari stopped moving at this point but kept his hands on the ground. He couldn’t stabilize the move and had to constantly be producing electricity in order to keep her trapped.

Tsu stopped hopping just before she would have run into the electricity and stopped. Uh-oh, Tsu thought as she watched the moving electricity that surrounded her. Maybe I could shoot my tongue out to him. No, he’ll probably shock me if I shoot my tongue out.

You walked towards Tsu and stood just far enough away that you could dodge an attack from her. Her thoughts rushed over all her possible moves. Alas, she knew the moves would be fruitless considering you knew exactly what she would do.

As Tsu contemplated her next move, you debated how to finish Tsu off. Eventually, you decided it would be best for you to put her to sleep and for Kaminari to shock her, ensuring she would stay asleep.

You turned your back to the girl encased in electricity to make you way back to Kaminari and tell him your plan. “Listen, I’m gonna get closer and make her shoot her tongue at me. If I can grab it, I can make her fall asleep. Once she is defenseless, you need to shock her so she passes out,” You whispered, kneeling close to Kaminari, so Tsu couldn’t hear you.

Kaminari nodded in response. You stood back up and made your way towards Tsu. You stayed as focused as you could, knowing she might take this opportunity to attack, and her actions could be fast enough to catch you off-guard.

Her tongue shot at you when you were 10 meters away. It was quick and you only had a chance to dodge before she had to retract her tongue in fear that the cage would shock her. You walked closer to her and she shot again just a few seconds later. This time, you grabbed her tongue, but it slipped from your hand just before you could get a strong hold.

She’s trying to grab my tongue, Tsu thought as she stared at you. Should I stop shooting it at her? No, I need to grab her, it’s the only way to get Kaminari to release his trap.

At that moment, you realized that your powers would still work if she grabbed you with her tongue. Just as before, her tongue shot at you and you let the slimy muscle grab you, smirking to yourself. She purposefully didn’t bring you into the cage, too afraid to shock you, but the cage’s power stuttered for a moment and you looked back at Kaminari.

Oh my god, what do I do? I need to help her!

You winked at Kaminari.

What? What was that? God, I should just trust her.

“Tsu-chan,” You looked back at the girl who finally looked you in the face. “Sleep.” Her grip on you immediately faltered and she let you go. You only had a moment to get over to her and make sure to keep her sleeping. “Drop the trap!” You yelled to Kaminari as you rushed over to her sleeping form. Just as her eyes opened, you grabbed onto her shoulder and made her sleep once again. You waited as Kaminari rushed to your side. “Can you shock her just enough to make her pass out?” You asked him.

“Uh, yeah, I can. But you can’t be holding her or else I will shock you too,” Kaminari responded.

“Okay, I’ll let go and you shock her right after. Then we should put her in one of the buildings just to make sure she doesn’t wake up to a battle going on around her,” You said. Kaminari nodded and you let go of Tsu.

Kaminari touched Tsu and sent a shock through her body. She shook for a moment but then stilled. When Kaminari let go, you grabbed Tsu’s wrist and checked her pulse. It was slow, and she was already sleeping soundly. You motioned to Kaminari to pick her up by her feet. Right before you were going to pick up the small girl, a sound shocked you.

Towards your right, you heard the echo of Bakugou’s thoughts ringing in your ear.

Y/L/N! Get over here! I need back up.

Just then, an explosion rang out from the same direction you heard Bakugou’s thoughts coming from. A wall of ice shot up into the air right after the explosion.

“We need to hurry and get over there,” You told Kaminari. You both grabbed Tsu and moved her into the closest building, setting her down gently on the floor. Without speaking, you both began running towards the sound of explosions.

Where the fuck are you? Todoroki’s team is here and they teamed up with Deku’s team against me. That’s some fucking bullshit!

“Kaminari,” You spoke, grabbing his attention. “Bakugou says the two other groups are teaming up against him. Are you ready to fight?”

“Yeah,” He responded. He smirked at you and you heard his excited thoughts run through his head as a few sparks flew from his palms.

Within your head, you focused as hard as you could to locate Mina. She had noticed the explosions but wasn’t heading that way.

Y/L/N-kun, I’m not sure if you can hear me right now, so I will keep repeating myself. I found Uraraka and the flag. I’m sure Bakugou is in a fight right now. I don’t need help so just help him and I will let you know when I have the flag.

You stopped running just before you would have run into the battle. Your head hurt immensely after locating Mina. You never spent this much time focusing on using your telepathy to locate people and exclusively listen to only a few. Kaminari, who was trailing behind you, stopped next to you and looked at you with a questioning appearance.

You took a deep breath in and ignored the ache of your head. You moved in close to him, worried someone might hear, “Ashido found the flag, and she is nowhere near us. She just has to beat Uraraka.”

“What? That's amazing. Should we go kick some ass then?” Kaminari responded.

“Yeah,” You breathed out. Your tenfold emotions rushed through your body, tiredness, and excitement battling against each other. You tried to use the excitement to push you farther as you started running again, ready to face anything in your way. Your headache was no longer something you needed to focus on, this battle was more important.

You turned the corner to be greeted by the scene of an ice wall being exploded through only for the person exploding through the wall, Bakugou, to be greeted with a punch to the face.

He looked beat up.

Very beat up.

His hair was messier than usual and he had scratches littered across his body.

Most obvious though was the fact that some of his clothes were burned away. The sides of his pants were no longer there, something that probably happened when he used his explosions to fly up. His jacket was completely gone and there were burn marks that trailed from his wrist to shoulder. Most likely given to him by Todoroki.

He looked horrible.

And yet what you found most noticeable was the sweat dripping down the curves of his muscles. He was still standing even after being pounded on by multiple people. If anything, his thoughts showed you that he was more awake and more determined than ever.

That was something anyone could find incredibly attractive.

Goddamn . This guy is gonna be the end of me.

You spent a moment admiring his muscles and the way the black tank top clung to his sweaty skin. He looked past the people attacking him to see you. He smirked and wiped some blood from his split lip.

Finally, he thought. You grinned back at him, ready to pounce on the competitors.

However, instead of fighting the other teams, you watched as Bakugou’s eyes widened. He started sprinting towards you.

Move, move! You heard him. “Move you, idiot!” He said aloud, but you didn’t have enough time to process his words.

Your headache came rushing back, you presumed from all the thoughts surrounding you. You quickly realized that the headache wasn’t because of your quirk when everything went black and your body was slammed against a concrete building.

[lil-writer-cosmic]

Missing weapons

Loki x reader

Warnings: bad language.. I guess

Author’s note: Wrote this a few years ago. I posted it on another account of mine, so here it is on this one :) let me know what you think !

Prompt: Do you really want to argue with me ? Bad choice.

Loki has never been someone easy to talk to. Thor knows this better than anyone. When they were little, they never really had real discussions, Loki finding them boring, uninteressing, a waste of time. When it comes to argument, it’s the same, except that it always ended with a knife deep in Thor’s chest. Now that they are grown-ups, or are supposed to be, nothing has changed. Loki discovered the silent treatment, learned more tricks to disappear in the middle of heated talks, perfected his facial expressions to use fewer words and trained himself to stab faster. Because words convey emotions. And emotions are not for the god of mischief, the frost giant. Emotions are not for Loki. But he is one kind of person to attract problems. He creates them, he plans them. They grow in his mind and come out of his mouth like the air he breaths. Yes, Loki is a master at getting in trouble and at escaping the talks that come after those. Fortunately for his habits, he met you. And you don’t like to argue with people.

«Loki !»

Your loud voice could be heard by anyone in the building. In the room next to yours, the avengers were already exchanging annoyed looks, all of them waiting to see what he had done this time. Did he turn your TV into a big frog ? Did he steal all your socks ?

«Loki ! Where is he ?»

The doors flung open as you entered the room, already sighing of exasperation. It was a rather calm period for the Avengers. The supervillains were obviously taking long naps, probably dreaming about taking the world in their hands and crushing it. And the Avengers were all bored. Not really bored, useless. But Loki was the one bored, since he is practically always useless or doing bad things. When Loki is bored, stuck in a building with only good people, with good intentions, it is normal that he played tricks on everyone. Lame tricks these days, but still.

«What did he do this time ?»

«He took my weapons. This f-»

A scoff interrupted you before you could disrespect the Asgardian. Loki, in all his glory, was standing right behind you, all the way across the room, a smug look on his face. Your blood was already boiling in your veins as you stared at him. He must have been patiently waiting for you to discover his new trick.

«Give them back.»

«Maybe tomorrow.» 

The way he looked at his nails like a teenage boy made your internal temperature rise.

«I need them to train with Natasha in an hour. Please, just give them back.»

«Sorry, can’t do this.»

You had fought so hard to be an Avengers. You had worked so hard to not get killed through each mission. You desperately needed to be better, faster, stronger. And this wasn’t helping. You asked more than once to put him in a cell or to get rid of him but Thor wasn’t okay with that.

«Loki.»

 You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. This guy has the ability to make you angry in no time.

«Please. I need to train.»

«Obviously.»

He laughed a little. At this moment, you wished that you were Banner to turn green, grab his ankle and smash him against the ground. But Tony wouldn’t like to have his tower demolished. And you just don’t have the ability to do so.

«If I don’t train properly, I can’t fight properly. If I can’t fight properly, I can’t be useful. Just stop your game.»

Your blood was absolutely boiling at his lack of reaction, like lava running through your veins. Oh, how nice it would be to see Loki in a pool of lava. No more tricks. Just no more Loki. 

«Fu- If I don’t train, I can die ! Do you want me to die ?»

As he opened his mouth to probably say something not nice, you raised your hand, ordering him not to speak.

«Tut ! Don’t answer, I don’t want you to answer ! Just give me the weapons back for fuck sake ! It’s not that complicated !»

You were aware that you could have just ignored him and it would have made him angry. That way, his trick would have been useless. But you weren’t the wise one in here.

«I really am trying my best to stay calm and nice and to discuss with you. Do you want to negociate ? I can tell you where are all of Tony’s tools !»

«Hey !» Tony said, finally paying attention to the fight.

«Just turn them into flowers, snakes, whatever you want but give me my stuff back !»

In a second, one of your missing weapons appeared in his hand. It was a small blade, the one usually around your thigh or on your back. A nice weapon, light and easy to use, to throw, to put in someone’s belly. Why not his ? He played with it in silence. That was clearly a provocation.

«You really want to argue with me ? Bad choice.»

You hissed through your greeted teeth. It was only a matter of seconds before the knife you suddenly threw struck the wall as it flew right through Loki’s trick. He stood there, mouth hanging open at your sudden change of behavior and your ability with blades, the illusion getting back together where the knife broke it.

«She just tried to stab me.»

«Don’t be overdramatic brother, you’re not even here.» said Thor as he threw a plastic bottle at him in a nonchalant movement.

«She does not know that.»

On this, you took big, loud and angry steps, grabbed your blade stuck in the wall, took the other one in your shoe and stormed out of the room.

«LOKI ! YOU BETTER COME OUT NOW.»

[blackbatsnwitchshats]

New Opportunities Ch. 6

Chapter 6

Chapter Summary: Ichidai's first day back to school, and the following weeks after.

______________________

"We found your runner."

"And?"

"He's dead."

"Well then, we'll proceed as planned. Operation 'Infiltrate U.A.' is officially a go"

______________________

All For One stood still as Kurogiri tightened the tie around his neck, fighting the urge to rip the abhorrent thing off and hurl it out the window of his new apartment.

While the petulant action might have matched his appearance, it still would have been a highly childish thing to do and he didn't want such things to become a habit. Tomura might have been prone to such fits, but he wasn't Tomura. He had more patience than that.

Most days anyway.

Today would be his first day at Aldera Junior High though, and he wasn't one to forgo first impressions. He wanted to get there on time, preferably earlier, and scope out the place he'd be haunting for the next two years. Yes, haunting, because he fully intended to make his teachers' and peers' lives as much of a living hell as he possibly could throughout the duration of his education there.

All For One nearly snorted out loud at that thought. Aldera was the bottom of the barrel in terms of schooling. Its reputation -if anyone could say it had any at all- was so deep in a trench it wouldn't ever be climbing out. There wasn't anything they could teach him that he didn't already know. The only thing they could provide him with was a proper alibi for his new role.

He might have never finished his schooling as a child the first time around, but All For One was fairly certain he was in for doing a whole lot of nothing for the next two years. Outside of building up some muscle to properly wield his quirk, which he could do just fine on his own, there wasn't a whole lot he needed to do. His body would be ready when it was ready and forcing it would only cause issues in the long run.

The best thing for him to do right now was lay low and attract as little attention to himself as possible.

He'd more or less managed that for well over a century. It'd be a piece of cake.

"You have your new phone?" Kurogiri asked, "Both my number as well as Tomura's are in there should you need us."

All For One nodded. "Yes, I double checked last night."

"Good. Let's head out. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have to deal with the morning rush."

"Ditto."

As they passed Tomura on their way to the door, he waved without looking up from his game and said, "Have a good day in Hell, S- Ichidai."

All For One quirked an eyebrow at him as he pulled his shoes on. "Kurogiri homeschooled you. How do you know whether it'll be Hell or not?"

Tomura shrugged. "I don't, but everyone in my game servers says it is or was for them."

"Well, ...I suppose you're not wrong. I'll see you when I get back."

"See you then."

______________________

Unfortunately, because something had gone wrong in the administrative process while filing his papers, All For One didn't get to do any sort of roaming before classes. That alone annoyed him. What really got under his skin, though, was the fact he'd had to fill out important paperwork he'd already completed again.

Now, standing at the front of a room filled with snot-nosed brats, he was just barely resisting the urge to strangle someone.

"Morning, class. Today we have a new student. Introduce yourself, kid."

Internally scathing the teacher's lackadaisical attitude, All For One plastered a polite smile on his face despite the scorn writhing in his chest. "Hello! I'm Suzuran Ichidai!"

Short and simple. To the point. Done.

Apparently not.

"And?"

All For One, or rather Ichidai, directed a raised eyebrow to the sad excuse of a teacher. "'And,' what?"

"Your quirk. What is it and what does it do? Why don't you show off a bit, get it out of your system before we start class."

Ha! Yeah, no. That'd be a very bad idea.

"Ichidai" leveled the man with an unimpressed stare. "Do you want to be the one to explain to the principal and police why there's a ginormous hole in the side of the building? Because I just got here and I'd rather not get expelled on my first day."

The color in the teacher's face vanished like water down a drain. "Ah, ...In that case, feel free to take a seat. There should be an empty one at the back, next to the window."

"Thank you."

The words themselves were polite, but -had they been a tangible thing- the sheer amount of sarcasm laced within them could have killed the entire class.

Various students eyed him warily as he made his way down the isle leading to his seat and he rolled his own eyes. Clearly he'd made quite an impression. Good. Intimidated was better than curious. The fewer people he had around him, the better.

He didn't need anyone getting nosy and snooping around all up in his business.

As class finally started, he took his sweet time carefully assessing the quirks he could see around him. He knew what they were, of course; gaining access to Aldera's student records had been laughably easy. However, reading about something on a computer was very different from seeing said thing in person. More often than not, people tended to embellish or downplay things whenever they thought they could get away with it. Regardless of whether that was the case or the kids simply not knowing what their quirks were truly capable of, taking things at face value would have been incredibly foolish.

Out of twenty-nine quirks, twenty-two of them were heteromorphic and unusable to him anyway. Frog-throat, luminescent skin, and stretchy eyes? Unique, but certainly not useful.

Only seven quirks barely caught his interest. Pyrokinesis, wind manipulation, bodily evaporation, rapid muscle growth, explosions, telekinesis and molecular solidification; all of them had potential given the right conditions. Taking them now would only cause suspicion though.

Perhaps another time...

For now, he tuned out the miserable teacher's useless droning and gazed out the window. He was in for a boring year...

______________________

Or not.

The kid with the explosion quirk was loud, and not just because of his quirk either. His entire personality shouted, "Hey! Look at me!" in an arrogant, infuriating way. Sneering at people, taunting and degrading them, even going so far as to physically assault them; he was a class A example of a bully who thought he was God's gift to Man.

All of it -combined with the fact he never shut up about becoming the next Number 1 Hero- almost made All For One want to steal his quirk out of spite.

Though the kid certainly wasn't there yet, heroes just like Bakugo Katsuki were exactly the reason why he hated the current social climate. People glorified anyone with a conventionally strong quirk; they put them on a pedestal, dubbed them a "hero," and believed they could do no wrong when it couldn't be further than the truth. Sure, there may be a few genuinely good ones, but -at the core- Hero Society was as currupt as could be. Even now, after centuries, people still considered those with heteromorphic or so-called villainous quirks to be less than human.

Goodness forbid someone end up quirkless in this time period, because it might as well be death sentence.

Case and point being Midoriya Izuku's existence.

For the first few weeks, "Ichidai" bore witness to the systematic debasement and abuse his lone quirkless classmate went through. Day after day, people left ill-willed flowers on the timid boy's desk, destroyed his personal belongings, and shoved him around like an unwanted plaything. All while the teachers turned a blind eye to everything.

It stirred a fury in his gut he hadn't felt in a long time.

Wasn't this what he'd fought against, once upon a time? Perhaps not for the sole purpose of the vulnerable and less fortunate, but it'd been a rather large part of it... No one deserved to be harrassed over something they had no say in.

Everyone deserved to exist without feeling like they had no right to.

All For One's tolerance eventually ran out, and he snapped, "Good grief! Do you ever shut up?"

"Ha?"

Bakugou, as well as several startled others, turned to him upon realizing he was the one who'd spoken. Their reaction wasn't surprising, considering he'd barely said a lick of anything to anyone in the entire three weeks he'd shared classes with them so far.

"You wanna say that again, newbie?" Bakugo suggested threateningly, ditching Midoriya to sneer in Ichidai's face instead.

Ichidai wasn't impressed, sneering right back at the blond without issue. "No, I don't think I will. You heard me just fine, didn't you?"

He gasped and held a hand up to his chest dramatically as he widened his eyes in false surprise. "That is... unless you're deaf."

After all, an immunity or tolerance to one's own quirk was never a guarentee. Given what Bakugou's quirk was, it very well may have been the case for why he was so loud. If it was, ...well, All For One had never had any issues taking potshots at people, especially people he didn't particularly care for.

Unfortunately for Bakugou, he fell into that category.

Grinning smugly, Ichidai watched the blond briefly freeze before he was roughly grabbed by the collar and jerked out of his seat.

"You wanna die?" Bakugo snarled, "'Cause that's what's gonna happen if you go around spouting shit like that!"

"What are you; a rabid dog?" Ichidai asked condescendingly, grin transforming into something more akin to a baring of teeth. "Oh, wait- I take that back. You're more of an attention hound, aren't you? You're so used to having others cater to you and what you want that anything less than complete submissal rubs you the wrong way."

The sound of Bakugo's teeth creaking as they ground together was music to Ichidai's ears as he smiled wider. "Anything to say? Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong."

"Yeah! You are! Big time!"

"Really? Because I don't think I am."

Popping and crackling sparks burst from Bakugou's clenched fist and Ichidai laughed, "Oh no! I'm so scared! What're you going to do? Use your quirk on me?"

Bakugou went to swing his fist at Ichidai's face, only to be caught by the teacher's extended hand.

"Alright kids, that's enough," the poor excuse of an educator chastised them, "Back to your seats. Class is starting."

Ignoring the teacher, Bakugou sneered and ripped his arm out of the teacher's grip. He shot Ichidai a glare and Ichidai smiled innocently right back, like their entire spat hadn't just happened.

The sheer incandescent rage that encompassed Bakugou's face was almost enough to make Ichidai giggle.

However, the realization that the teacher had once again stopped a fight between two kids seemingly on the same playing field yet had let Bakugou rip into Midoriya like a primary schooler would a Christmas present soured Ichidai's mood.

Come lunchtime, Ichidai didn't bother leaving his seat. So busy brainstorming little ways he could inconvenience the people who'd annoyed him, he didn't even hear the bell. It was the feeling of being stared at and the sound of someone clearing their throat that caught his attention.

Ichidai looked away from the window and found Midoriya standing at his own desk a few feet away.

Midoriya fidgeted and stuttered, "I -uh, thanks for stepping in earlier. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Ichidai shrugged. "Happy to do it. His voice was getting annoying, and the teacher didn't seem in all that much of a hurry to put an end to it."

"Do you...uh, want to get lunch together?"

Ichidai thought about it. While he didn't intend to make friends with anyone, it would seem strange if there wasn't at least one person he talked to on a regular basis. He guessed Midoriya would be as fine as any -if not better- company than the rest of the loud-mouthed children in their class.

At least he knew how to be quiet.

"You know what? Sure. I brought my own lunch, but I can meet you wherever you want once you get yours."

Midoriya deflated, likely mishearing him before he jerked back up. "Wait, ...yes? You said yes?"

"I did, yes," Ichidai assured him firmly.

Midoriya smiled at him so genuinely it almost took his breath away. Truly, his grin was so bright Ichidai had no doubt he'd have been blinded again had the other boy been capable of producing light with it.

"Great!" Midoriya swung his backpack over his shoulder and raced to the door, looking back to wave at him before he left the room. "I'll meet you by the koi pond in the front courtyard!"

Ichidai waved back as the door closed, slightly bewildered by his sheer enthusiasm.

"Yeah... I'll see you there."

[jjkfire]

Preydator

Reader x Jungkook // shifter!AU, raccoon!jk // 6k words

Summary: Neither of you are quite the predator the two of you claim to be. + “I wonder what the people would say if they saw big mean lion predator tending to my wound right now.” raccoon!jk & (surprise (; hehe)!reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Okay I know scientifically raccoons aren’t exactly preys bc they eat rodents and frogs and etc. but… for the purpose of this fic, they are classified as preys. Predators in this au refers to… tertiary consumers, like top trophic level dudes. Also, football = soccer. Sorry, calling it soccer is very awkward for me!

You’re no stranger to late nights at the library. In fact, you love them. Your brain just works better at 1 am than it does at 1 pm. You also like it when there’s far fewer people in the quiet section of the library. The scent of all the others in the room can get a little too overwhelming for someone like you so, you’re truly at your happiest when there’s only a handful of people around.

Most people don’t like to stay at the library past 2 am because that’s when the campus buses stop running but you don’t really mind. Walking home at 3 in the morning after a long study session when the streets are eerily quiet, doesn’t faze you at all. It’s calm, peaceful and it makes you feel at ease. Your walks are usually uneventful and that’s probably a good thing. You have a small handheld can of pepper spray just in case of anything but in all your semesters here, you’ve only had to use it once and that had been a while ago, but perhaps you spoke to soon because tonight you find yourself gripping that small can in your hand, heart thumping loudly against your chest.

There’s the sound of a loud tortured squeal and you can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from. You pick up your pace attempting to get away from the source, but you don’t really know where to go. You know the sound is coming from a hurt animal and just that thought alone makes you sweat, because it probably means that a predator shifter that’s out of his or her senses is on the loose. Sure you should try to help whatever it is that’s making that noise but you reconsider the fact that you are but a tiny prey shifter and that if you do stop to help, you’ll probably be the next victim.

The squeals seem to echo no matter how far you walk, in fact they get louder and you start to run, your hand fumbling for the can of pepper spray in your pocket. You stumble, the loud clang of metal ringing through the night as you trip over a misplaced manhole cover. You whine, groaning in pain when you end up on the floor. The squeals are more urgent now, as if it was warning you of what’s to come and god, you shut your eyes, hoping that whatever feral predator that’s lurking will hopefully end your life quick, unlike its previous victim that’s still screaming in pain.

You’re waiting and waiting and waiting but the fatal bite to your neck never comes. You can still hear the squeals, less urgent this time, almost like there’s no effort in them. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, dusting off the dirt on your knees after you had taken a quick look around to make sure you were safe. You let out a whimper when you press at your injured toe. Surely it was going to bruise, you sigh, mumbling to yourself. At that sound, you hear the loud squeals again, accompanied with the sound of water being sloshed about. Odd.

Just up ahead, you see a hole in the ground, presumably where the manhole cover you just tripped over was meant to go. You inch towards it slowly, carefully, unsure if it was just a trap. If you were being honest, all of this seemed eerily like the opening of a horror movie. Despite your gut telling you to just take off and run, you risk a peek down the hole in front of you and in there you see the source of all your panic tonight, a poor little raccoon, limping around and squealing as it peered up at you.

“You poor baby,” You frown, as you watch the raccoon try to reach for the metal rungs on the side of the wall, attempting to climb up towards you. “Just wait down there. I’ll come get you!”

You take one last look around you, ensuring that the injured raccoon wasn’t being used to bait you because yes, you’re that paranoid. You remove your backpack and slowly make your way down into the sewer, nose wrinkling at the awful stench. When you reach the bottom, the raccoon stands aside timidly as if it was afraid of you and you offer it your hand, to show that you meant no harm.

“I’m no predator, don’t worry,” You laugh as it comes up to sniff you. “Let’s get you home, huh?” You murmur as you attempt to pick it up, making sure you avoid the large gash you see on its side.

“You still want these?” You ask, pointing to the clothes that are drenched in sewer water and it shakes its head no. Thank god. You didn’t want to touch it in the first place. With that, you attempt to climb up the metal rungs with just one available hand. It’s a bit of a struggle and you can tell that the little raccoon is attempting to muffle its pained squeals, burying its head in your shirt.

When you finally get back to ground level, you see that the gash the raccoon has is much worse than you had thought. It seems weak, tired, and when you ask if it could point you the way of its house, it only blinked at you. You can see the poor animal shivering in the light breeze, whimpering as it attempted to limp closer to you. You guess you had no choice but to bring it home with you.

When you finally reach your studio apartment, you quickly got a towel, helping the raccoon to dry off as best as you could without touching the wound.

“So… now what?” You ask out loud but you’re mainly talking to yourself because you know the animal has no capacity to answer you. “I think this will be easier to treat in your human form,” You point at his wound. “What’s your trigger?” You question.

Shifters mostly stay in their human form and only turn into their animal form when they experience any one of their specific triggers. For some it’s when they get angry, a very common trigger for large predators. For some, it’s when they’re hurt, for others it’s when they feel threatened and for the raccoon that you’ve just rescued, it’s apparently food because it’s limping towards your fridge, trying to nudge the door open.

“Food?” You ask as you catch up with it. “Okay, but first we gotta clean your hands,” You smile, as you bring the bottle of hand sanitizer down from the counter to sanitize its tiny little hands. An audible coo leaves your lips as you watch it rub its small palms together. Raccoons, you sigh lovingly. How could anyone hate them?

You open the door to your fridge, humming as you look at the contents of it, or perhaps lack of it.

“Sandwich?” You ask. All you had in your fridge was one half of the grilled cheese sandwich you had made last night. “I mean that’s all I have anyway, so the answer is going to have to be yes,” You chuckle as you pop it into the microwave.

“Just wait here,” You say as you move towards your closet to grab another towel. A cleaner and much larger one because you know once the raccoon shifted back, it was going to be stark naked and you didn’t want any… surprises. The microwave dings, and you hear the raccoon let out excited squeals, attempting to climb up onto the counter despite its injury.

You laugh, bringing the plate down to the floor before you watched it grab the sandwich with its little hands. The raccoon was absolutely adorable, munching on its sandwich and you’ll admit you’re quite a fan of the animal, if it wasn’t already evident from the numerous raccoon plushies sat on your bed. It’s a guilty pleasure but you often watch cute raccoon videos in your free time. Raccoons just have those cute tiny hands and that adorable little face and some of them are so chubby that all you wanted to do was pick them up and cuddle them. You’re sort of lost in your own thoughts about raccoons that it takes the tugging of the towel to bring you back to earth. When you look back down, you realise that in those few minutes your new raccoon buddy has finished the sandwich, which meant it was going to shift back soon. It’s probably why it had pulled at that towel with such urgency. It doesn’t get too far, just out of your small little kitchen before you hear a loud thump and a subsequent groan.

You quickly move towards the sink to wash the plate, trying to pretend like this was totally normal. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you like an oncoming train and so you continue pretending that your heart isn’t beating at 1000 miles per minute, that you didn’t have a complete stranger in your house and maybe you realize how naïve and stupid you are now that there’s a full grown human that you don’t know in your apartment. What’s worse is that it’s a man and you know that because that voice is way too deep for it to be a woman’s and—

“Hello.”

“Umm, hi,” You mumble, looking up from the plate that you have just set aside to see a half-naked man staring back at you. It takes you a second, maybe two before you go, oh because you’ve got the campus’ prized fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook, in your apartment... wearing nothing but a towel on his hips.

“Oh my god,” He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I sort of realized in the sewer, but I digress. It’s you! Y/N the meme girl!” He laughs. “You know the uhh that—” He stops his sentence halfway, drop-kicking the air in front of him. “—that girl.”

“Yes,” You sigh. “I’m that girl. All thanks to you, Jeon Jungkook the professional meme maker.”

“I just edited funny text on the video,” He shrugs. “It’s basically all you… and Choi Junho of course. That sucker,” He laughs.

God, if there was one person you didn’t want the raccoon to be, it would be Jungkook. Scratch that, there’s two people you didn’t want it to be and one of them is Jungkook and the other would be Choi Junho, but you are well aware that Junho is no raccoon.

Junho is a beloved player on the college basketball team. People worship the ground he walks on and everyone, and really everyone loves him. He’s the reason your college’s basketball team has been doing so well. Back in freshman year, like everyone else, you liked him too. When you found out you were sharing a discussion section of one of your classes with him, you were ecstatic. You just wanted to be able to say ‘Oh yeah Junho and I are in the same discussion section. He’s pretty nice.’ at parties to make others envious and not really anything more than that. You never expected to know him any more than the usual classmate whom you would talk to in class and then smile politely at if you were to bump into each other in public, and for a long time, it was just that.

Then, one night at some Halloween house party, you bumped into him while you were pouring yourself a drink. He seemed sober for the most part and so were you. A few glasses later however, neither of you were sober and in some dark corner of the house, he had his tongue down your throat, his hands roaming all over your body. He kept asking if you wanted to go upstairs and for a moment you felt... good, because look at you, you were just seconds away from sleeping with arguably the most popular guy on campus. Yet, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Maybe it was the contents of your stomach that was threatening to come out any second now. So, you said no, respectfully, and told him you were comfortable right there. Honestly, you thought after that he would move on to someone else, his next prey or whatever, but he hung around, asked if you wanted to head back to his place, asked if he could walk you home, asked if you wanted to reconsider going upstairs. You got away from him somehow, you couldn’t remember how but you do remember dreading the fact that you would have to see him in discussion after the weekend.

You hoped that it had been the alcohol that made Junho so… creepy, that perhaps he would have forgotten everything and gone back to just knowing you as that person in his discussion section, but come Monday, you realised he had no intention of forgetting. He flirted with you shamelessly, pressuring you to go out on a date with him, always repeating himself even when you had respectfully declined, numerous times. Eventually, hes seemed to get the hint and instead, he would ask to meet at the library on the pretext of getting some work done, but then halfway through studying you could feel his hand on your knee. Although you guessed that could be a friendly gesture, it made you uncomfortable and so you would always find an excuse to leave. 

The worst part of all of it though was the fact that he didn’t feel guilty or bad or any sort whenever he saw how uncomfortable he made you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was some sick game for him. He would text you all the time, find ways to sit next to you in lecture and discussion, show up at parties you were at, tried to befriend your friends. You felt like you couldn’t really tell anyone about the situation because Junho was well, Junho. He was popular, well-liked and if you were to say that you felt like he was borderline stalking you, you would be labelled as pretentious or an attention seeker.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, because his aura in general scared you. He was a predator. You knew just from his scent. Predator shifters are rare, they are revered and Junho was rather proud he was one. He was a panther and when he was toying with you, you could see it in his expression, the mischievousness and power that he held. Whenever you were near him, you felt like you were in danger. You felt like if you said no one more time, he would just find ways to make you say yes. So, you tried your best to isolate yourself and you tried to find excuses so you could attend a different discussion section. You even changed your phone number. You did everything you could to get away from him. It did nothing to deter him though and he even bothered you well through winter break and into the following semester.

Then came the fateful day. Valentine’s Day. He had stopped you in the middle of the quad, with a box of chocolates in hand, handing it to you so everyone could see, so you were under pressure to accept. You didn’t want to. You knew that if you did, he would get the wrong idea and so you said no thank you, soft and quiet so nobody but him could hear. He insisted and put the box into your hand with that sick, sick smile on his lips. Everyone was cooing, smiling and you didn’t want that. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that all eyes were on you, all the attention was on you and most of all you didn’t like the way he was looking at you like he had won, that you were his prey for the taking now. You wanted to run, your prey instincts told you to, but you know doing that meant that he would still be the winner so, you did what you thought was best. You took a deep breath, stretching your hand out, you dropped the box of chocolates and kicked it as high and as far as you could. You could hear gasps of horror, the look of surprise on everyone’s face and in the commotion of it all, you took your chance to escape. You were still shaking even when you went to bed that night.

The aftermath of it all was uncontrollable. There were so many videos of it online, from numerous angles. It was starting to get out of hand and you were receiving messages from strangers, half of them cussing you out, wishing you misfortune and the other half congratulating you on your— in their words— big dick energy. It was absolute chaos but you had achieved what you wanted and Junho was nowhere to be seen… until of course Jungkook came into the picture.

See, it was all fine and dandy until the ever wonderful Jeon Jungkook decided to produce numerous meme edits of the incident. They had titles like me @ my responsibilities and me @ my money, with accompanying music and video effects. What was a video that was popular campus wide soon became a viral video that had spread all across the world. Everyone and really, everyone recognized you as the girl who drop-kicked some loser’s gift… which meant now everyone recognized Junho as the loser who got his gift drop-kicked.

There was a shift of attitude on campus and suddenly people either feared you or wanted to be your friend. You were rumoured to be either a poisonous prey, or the more popular theory, some predator, perhaps a lion. That could not be any further from the truth, but in any case, you liked that. It meant that people feared you so, you played into that belief, made people around you think that you were in fact a predator when you were a prey. Lion shifters were extremely rare, the rarest of the rare and so you achieved that stay away from her status that you could have previously only dreamed of. You bought some predator scent spray online and you had the resting bitch face to match too and so that’s how sophomore year went for you. Good, quiet. People admired you from afar, kept their distance. It was nice and you didn’t have to fear walking around campus at night because you knew that people knew not to come near you. All except one, of course.

Choi Junho was not one to back down and so he came up to you when you were on your routine walk home from the library, alone and vulnerable. First, he appeared apologetic, head bowed down, shifting his weight from one feet to another, but the next second, he had you pinned against the wall, hand on your throat.

“You poor little thing,” He smirked. “You may have everyone fooled but oh, not me.”

His grip on your throat tightened and you could see it, his eyes beginning to change, that familiar feral glow beginning to show.

“I knew you liked playing games. You like being hunted, don’t you?” He licked the corners of his lips. “You want me to chase you, you want to feel powerful, but in the end you want me to put you in your place, don’t you?”

You struggled against him, gasping, your hand trying to loosen the grip he has around your neck.

“I love it when you look like this,” He grinned, wiping away your tears with his free hand. “All desperate and weak for me.”

Your fingers finally closed around the can in your pocket and with the little strength you had left, you sprayed it in his eyes, hoping to god that it actually works. The boy in front of you cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground as he wiped his eyes. You took the opportunity to kick him right in the gonads, a few times too many. People like him should never be allowed to reproduce. You told yourself it was in self-defence, but you knew it was mostly for revenge. That was the last time he bothered you. You never tried to report the whole incident. You had no proof anyway so, you continue to pretend like it was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. Junho’s still the campus’ beloved basketball star and you’re only one of the many girls he had tried to get with. You wonder if there are other girls like you out there, girls who had to suffer under his hands. That’s a thought you keep locked far, far away.

“Seems like I uhh, brought up some bad memories,” Jungkook mumbles when he notices the grimace on your face. You realize you’ve been silent for way too long and so you shake yourself out of it, bringing your attention back to the boy in front of you.

“Something like that I guess…” You murmur. “Anyway, so, you umm want to get cleaned up? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants that you might fit. Might.”

“As long as they’re not Junho’s,” He jokes and all that garners out of you is a sneer.

“They’re mine,” You mumble, walking towards your closet to pull out some clothes. “Not fashionable in the least, but it’s better than walking out there naked.”

“Uhh debatable but okay, fine, true,” He nods as he looks to see if the clothes would fit. “Thanks… for the clothes and for umm everything, really. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck down there... and with the gash and all, it could’ve ended badly for me.” He points to the cut on his chest which is considerably less menacing than when it took up almost half his body when he was in his animal form.

“It’s no big deal,” You mumble. “And yeah we’ll get that wound sorted out after you shower. Make sure to clean the area when you’re in there.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes, before you point him in the direction of your bathroom.

This surely wasn’t the way you imagined meeting the guy who propelled you to meme stardom. You expected it to be more hostile but then again, he’s injured and you can’t beat someone when they’re down can you? But, perhaps what surprised you more than anything was the fact that he was your kin, a prey like you and also, a liar.

See, Jungkook is a forward on the football team, a college athlete and that meant two things. One, he is a predator and two, he’s well-liked. Though the latter is unfortunately an undeniable truth, the first one however, considering what you’ve seen tonight is definitely false. This is important because only predators are allowed to be athletes and a major perk of being an athlete is the scholarship that comes along with it. No matter how good prey shifters are at a certain sport, they would never get to be an athlete and would instead have to compete for academic scholarships which are extremely hard to obtain. So the big question here is how did that fluffy little raccoon book his spot on the football team?

You guess he looks the part of a predator shifter, with a lean body and a fair amount of muscle mass… (not that you were looking at his body at all that is). Also, the fact that he doesn’t cower away from social interaction helped with the predator persona as most prey shifters tend to keep to themselves. Maybe you ought to take a pointer or two from him.

To you, it’s odd that he’s on the football team. He wasn’t an exceptional athlete as per se, in fact if you remember correctly, he spends most matches on the bench. Though you’d argue that even so, he seemed to be more popular than the guys who usually made it onto the first team.

He’s known on campus for being that guy, you know that 10/10 boyfriend guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your parents because you know they’ll love him, but he’s also the kind of guy that would fuck your brains out... but also the kind of guy that would take you on cute little dates. Yeah, you know, that guy. You’re not sure why you know all of this. Probably because in your first year at the dorms, those around you would not shut up about him, ever. From what you know, he got around but was always clear that he never wanted anything more. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget names or lead someone on. He was always respectful. From the short flings he had, they always seemed to end... well, on mutual terms and the girls never had anything bad to say other than that he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Rather, a wholesome fuckboy, if one ever existed.

You could definitely see it. He’s nice, charismatic, that much you deduce as he attempts to make small talk with you now that he’s done with his shower, but you realize he is also definitely trying to avoid getting his wound tended to. You’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to be half naked just a little while longer to garner a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely afraid of the pain that comes with applying antiseptic cream to a raw wound.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine,” You sigh, from where you’re seated on your bed. “I’m not your mother, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know it has to happen, but it… it stings,” He frowns, joining you. “Cleaning the area with water was already painful enough.”

“Well, just say whenever you’re ready then,” You sigh, turning away from him to turn on the TV.

“Okay, fine, just do it now,” He mumbles. “But— but be… gentle.”

You almost laugh at the way he looks in front of you right now, all timid and afraid. It was a huge contrast to how he appeared on the banners around school, all proud in his football jersey with his arms folded across his chest.

He winces every so often as you apply the cream to his wound, soft whimpers leaving his lips. You’re trying your best to be delicate, and you think you’re doing quite a fine job because halfway through when you look up at the boy, he’s smiling.

“I wonder what the people would say if they saw big, mean, lion predator tending to my wound right now uwu,” He coos, when your eyes finally meet his.

“Did you actually just say uwu out loud?” You gawk, pulling your focus away from his wound. “You know it’s an emoticon right?”

“Yes, but it’s also a feeling. See, uwu,” He coos again, his voice pitched higher. “It’s a feeling,” He reaffirms, grinning, as if what he had just said made perfect sense.

“Maybe I’ll just stick this cotton bud into your wound, and we’ll see how uwu you’re feeling.”

“Please… please don’t do that,” He grimaces.

Though the wound is not deep, you do think he should at least go get checked for the numerous bruises that litter his skin. He’s in pain, you know that for sure and he’s trying to downplay how much exactly, but you are no fool. Considering that it was a bad fall, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hairline fracture on one of his limbs. Jungkook waves your concern away, simply thanking you when you bandage his wound. He finally, finally puts on his shirt and you expect him to dash out of your house, but he seems to linger, as if he had something to say but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I see you’re a fan of mine,” He smiles, pointing to the numerous raccoon memorabilia that decorates your bed and side-table.

“Don’t read too much into it. I like the animal, yes, but I didn’t know you were one so, not to worry, I am not a member of the Jungkook fanclub.”

“That’s a shame. I hear the club has nice perks, like you know, quality time with me,” He smirks. “Which honestly speaking, is a rare commodity.”

“My, now I’m just dying to be in the club,” You huff, rolling your eyes. “You know, wouldn’t your fans be disappointed to find out that the guy they’re fawning over is not in fact a predator but a prey instead.”

“About that…” He sighs, hands nervously tugging at the ends of his shirt. “You know we’re in the same boat, don’t you? We’re both sheep in wolves clothing.”

“Nice twist on the idiom, I like it,” You nod. “But, I feel like you’re trying to make a point here. What is it?”

“That if you tell on me, then I’m telling on you,” He mumbles. “I’m not a fan of blackmail but I really, really need this scholarship.”

“Nice to know you think so poorly of me even after all I’ve done tonight but just so you know I have no interest in revealing your secret.”

“That’s not… that’s not how I meant for it to come out,” He sulks. “I just needed to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“Yeah, I understand,” You murmur. “I am curious though. How did you cheat the medical test? How did you get them to believe you’re a bear when in fact you’re a raccoon? Shouldn’t you have gone for a more believable animal like say… a fox?”

“Well, for someone who’s such a huge fan of raccoons I’m disappointed by the fact that you aren’t aware that raccoons are more closely related to bears than to either the cat or dog family,” He mumbles. “Thus, I did pick the most believable animal.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” You hum. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain how—”

“I hired someone to change the results for me.”

“You can do that?”

“If you know the right people, yeah.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people,” You mumble. “And your scent… how do you work around that?”

“I can’t use the spray because I’ll basically sweat it all off so I use that supplement… you know the one you see sketchy ads of on TV?”

“Preydator! Tell your fears, see ya later!” You sing-song, imitating the ad you often saw on TV. The jingle was rather catchy. “That one? It actually works?”

“Yeah, for now, but who knows maybe in 20 years after they’ve done adequate research, they’ll tell me that it’s killing me slowly.”

“That’s very disconcerting to hear…” You frown. “If you’re a quote unquote certified predator then you could’ve avoided this by just applying for the academic scholarships. Why didn’t you do that? The requirements are extremely low if you’re a predator.”

“Because I’m good at football,” He says rather nonchalantly. “And I have a bone to pick with the athletic department. Preys should be allowed to be on the team if we’re good enough.”

You almost say but you aren’t that good at football but you guess making it on the bench of the first team is still a feat, so you decide to hold off on that thought.

“So, now that you know all my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me one of yours,” He smiles. “What are you?”

“Hey, I never said we were going to trade secrets. You just decided to tell me all of yours.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” He frowns. “At least let me guess. Then you can just say yes or no.”

“Go ahead,” You smile. You were positive he wasn’t going to get it right.

“Rabbit? No?” He queries and you shake your head. “What’s… what’s a prey with attitude? Because that’s what you are.”

You only gawk at him. This guy just says whatever he wants. You’re starting to think that everyone else sees a different side of Jungkook or maybe they just excuse his sass just because of his good looks.

“A… frog? Or oh… don’t tell me you’re an insect shifter,” He grumbles with mild disgust.

“You know, that’s really mean but no, I am not an insect shifter.”

“You sure? You could easily be a black widow or maybe you’re one of those poisonous animals like that poisonous sea snail or—”

“Okay,” You huff, annoyed with the boy now. You rise to your feet, pulling him along with you. “You know this was a really nice chat and a very interesting evening, but I have an early class tomorrow so if you could find your way home now, that would be great.”

“But I still don’t know what you are yet,” He frowns.

“Boohoo, neither does most of the campus.”

“See, a prey with an attitude!” He exclaims. “Come on, I’m close, I know it. At least give me a clue!”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You smile, effectively pushing him out of your apartment with a kick.

“Throwing out an injured comrade like this. You’re heartless,” He fake sobs from the other side of the door before you hear him sigh and make his way down the hallway and out of your life, hopefully forever. Perhaps that was wishful thinking because in a few short minutes you hear hurried footsteps out in the hallway. You pay it no mind, or at least you try to do so but then you see shadows dancing just outside of your door, and when you finally get up to look through the tiny peephole, you find Jungkook standing out there, pacing back and forth as he silently practices a speech.

“Can I help you?” You question after having opened your door to find a very stunned Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, it’s uhh nice to see you again,” He smiles, nervously so. “You see, the thing is I uhh lost my keys in the sewer, obviously and… you know the management office to my building isn’t open because it’s so late and—”

“Surely you have friends you could call up for help.”

“Well, firstly I doubt they’ll pick up a call this late at night and secondly, since I already shifted, I smell like prey and guess what everyone thinks I am,” He mumbles. “In case you’re struggling, the answer is not prey.”

“I’ll let you borrow my predator scent spray.”

“That’s a novel idea,” He nods, admitting. “But you can also let me stay the night.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“You know more about me than anyone on campus does. I’d argue that you know me very well,” He hums.

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, moving to shut the door on him because it was way past your bed time and you do not have the energy to have this conversation right now.

“Please. There’s a lot at stake here,” He begs, using his foot to stop the door. “You know what it’s like for us when we have to lie under pressure… We don’t do very well.”

“You’ve been lying your entire college career so I think you’re pretty good at it.”

“Listen, if there’s any inkling of me being a prey, my scholarship is gone. It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” He frowns. “The lie I tell to my teammates and my coaches, the predator act that I put on, that’s been carefully curated and I’ve gone over it ten thousand times in my head to make sure it’s perfect. I can lie, yes, but only when I’ve had time to prepare. I know you know that too.”

“Fine,” You grumble, moving aside. “You can stay, but… behave.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes once you let him through your door. “Thank you so much. Seriously.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. For everything, really,” He mumbles, shy and timid. His sentence is sincere, one you weren’t exactly expecting considering how snarky he had been earlier. He follows behind you closely, stopping beside the bed when he reaches it. You tuck yourself in from the other side and you’re turning to him, ready to deliver your whole spiel of if I find your hand anywhere remotely inappropriate I am going to saw it off, only to find him placing a pillow on your floor.

“What are you doing?” You query, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Going to bed?”

“Why are you putting the pillow on the floor?”

“Well, because I can tell you don’t really want to have me here and I’m probably overstepping some boundaries and I just don’t want to impose really so I’m good with the floor.”

Even though it’s happened a fair few times now, you still find it oddly amusing to see Jungkook behaving like a prey shifter. Always cautious, always timid in unfamiliar situations. Though you do or rather did have some reservations about him, you can tell that he’s perfectly harmless.

“You can sleep on the bed,” You murmur.

“A-are you sure? I mean really you’ve done enough for me and it’s going to be morning in a few hours so it’s okay, really.”

“Jungkook, just get in the bed,” You groan. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“I just need you to be 100% sure you’re okay with that.”

“Seriously, if you keep asking, I’m just going to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting into the bed,” He concedes, quickly picking up the pillow. “Thank you,” He whispers once he finally settles under the blanket.

If he says anything after that, you don’t hear it. It had taken you less than a minute to fall asleep. When you awake in the morning, you expect to find the boy all sprawled out on his side of the bed but instead the covers on his side has been neatly folded, the pillow and your raccoon plushies all arranged in an orderly fashion. Jungkook sure was full of surprises, you note.

Later on when you head to the bathroom, you find numerous post-it notes stuck onto your mirror, all of them filled with apologies.

Y/N, I had to use your predator spray… Really sorry about that and actually just really sorry about the whole of last night. Thank you for being so kind and considerate and though I can’t see you right now, I know you’re making that face. The one you make when you think I’m being sarcastic but really I owe you. Big time. I’ll make it up to you… Though I have a feeling one way you want me to make it up to you is by just never having to see me again haha. If that is so, consider it done.

Love, the biggest member of the Y/N fanclub.

You almost laugh when you reach the end of the note. There’s even a poorly drawn raccoon to punctuate his sign-off. You guess he deserves an A for effort. What surprises you about the note though is how well he had read you from just that one night alone. Perhaps you’re more of an open book than you thought. In any case, you’re glad that last night would be the one and only interaction with him because judging from your past experiences with athletes, you know they only leave you with headaches so, you’re glad that both you and Jungkook are on the same page. In some way, the previous night seems like a fever dream, the whole entire experience so outlandish that you would have never even thought to dream it and for a week or two, you forget that it even happened until you get a reminder of the day, much belatedly.

You come home one day to find a box in front of your door. It has no address and has nothing to indicate the contents of it, until of course you flip it to find a drawing of a raccoon, this time a much better one. In fact it seems like he spent quite some time on it. When you open the box, you find the clothes you had lent Jungkook, washed and even ironed. What makes you smile though isn’t that but rather the small raccoon plushies you find, along with keychains and a phone case. A little note in the box tells you that Jungkook felt odd buying stuff that resembled him but he did owe you and that he hoped this in some way evened out the debt he owed. You think you’re starting to see why everyone goes on and on about how nice he is. At the core, he really is a sweet person. Annoying at times, but sweet nonetheless. In any case, the passing interaction you had with him was nice though you think this will probably be the last you hear from him.

As much as you liked to believe that, you’ll come to find out that the universe seems to have other plans. Because you keep seeing him again and again, and with each time, he seems to knock down the defenses you’ve set up with practiced ease. In fact, it takes him no longer than a week to show up on your front door, begging you for help and like the fool that you are, you oblige.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated (:

This was a self-indulgent fic and rly my version of crack tbh. Also this fic is in honour of my buddy that actually drop-kicked a gift he was given. Unlike OC, he was just a dickhead. I really shouldn’t laugh because the poor girl just wanted to give him chocolates but good god, every time I replay the scene in my head I can’t help but laugh. Man, high school was crazy.

[andiandyandee]

We Are Going to Be Friends Pt. 4

Okay I’m going to apologize in advance for this chapter It’s like the third saddest chapter in this whole story and the next one is even worse. 

Tag list: @datfearlessfangirl @cas-is-a-hunter @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking

Here’s the last part if you missed it and heres the whole series on Ao3

Here’s the Story:

  True to expectations, Remus arrived twenty minutes later, looking tired and slightly upset. He ordered a drink, stood at the counter until it was made, then headed over to the table. He glanced around, looking for an available seat, and perked up a bit when he saw the one between Roman and Logan was open. He dropped down in the chair, not saying anything, but fluffing Roman’s hair as he sat. Roman rolled his eyes, but looked at his brother with a questioning look, that clearly conveyed ‘you okay?’.  Remus nodded, then said in a hoarse voice,

      “Dr. Picani wants to try a new med. Says the current one doesn’t seem to be working right.” Roman winced sympathetically.

       “Did you already pick up the new prescription or do you want to walk over to the Pharmacy?”  

      “I have to pick it up, but I can go by myself, I know you still have homework left.” Logan glanced over at the two, debating whether or not to say anything.

      “I don’t know if it’s a great idea for you to walk over there alone, Re. You don’t look so great.” Remus went to argue, gesturing at Roman’s half-finished homework when Logan interjected.

      “I can walk with you, if you’d prefer. I’ve finished my homework for the day.” That wasn’t exactly true, but he had finished most of it, and he could do the last few questions when he got home. Roman nodded encouragingly at Remus, who glanced at Logan and gave him a small smile.

      “That sounds great, Logan. Thank you.” Logan just nodded, standing up with Remus. He dropped his mug off at the counter before following Remus out the door.

      The walk was mostly quiet, Remus humming what sounded a lot like the villain song from The Princess and the Frog. Logan was shrinking more into his jacket with each step. Was this a bad idea? Did Remus not want him to come? He should have realized that Remus wanted to be alone, or wanted one of his actual friends to come with him. Oh god, did he already ruin his first actual attempt at friendship-

      “Thanks for coming with me,” Remus mumbled. “And thanks for not asking.”

      “Asking?”

      “About what the meds are for. People tend to ask, and it always sits weird with me.” Remus shrugged, pulling the pharmacy door open for Logan. “I don’t mind talking about it but I hate the way people look at me when they ask.”

      “Remus.” Logan placed a hand on the older boy’s arm, stopping him from walking forward. Remus looked at Logan, confused. “You don’t need to thank me for respecting your privacy, and you don’t owe anyone, including your friends, or family, for that matter, answers to questions that make you uncomfortable.” Remus paled, glancing down to his feet. “And, for the record, if anyone makes you feel like you have to tell them, or like you have to do anything you don’t want to, let me know, and I’ll kick their ass for you.” Remus laughed at that.

      “Thanks, Logan. You’re a good friend.”

      “Damn right, I am.” Logan grinned, pretending to not be shocked by the softness in Remus’s voice. Or the sincerity.

      When they got back to Starbucks, Roman was arguing with a barista. The barista looked amused, arguing back casually while making drinks. When he saw Logan and Remus come through the door, he grinned brightly. “See! I TOLD you I have a twin brother!” The barista looked up, then groaned.

      “Okay, fine. So you haven’t had three drinks in an hour. You’ve still had TWO, which is more sugar and caffeine than and one person should have.” Roman pouted at that.

      “Ugh, fine. Are you ready to go? I think we’re going to head home and chill for a bit.” Roman asked, looking at his brother and Logan. “Oh, uh... I guess I didn’t actually ask if you wanted to come, Lo. Do you want to-” Logan bristled at the way Roman hesitated before asking.

      “No, thank you, Roman. I think I’m going to head over to the mall.” Remus glanced between his brother and Logan, obviously trying to figure out where the sudden tension had come from.

      “Oh, are you sure? We have plenty of room-” Logan shook his head, grabbing his bag from where he had left it when he went with Remus and waved casually as he left the building. Clenching his fists and rolling his shoulders, trying to push down the wave of disappointment at Roman’s hesitation. It made sense that Roman wouldn’t want Logan around, but it still hurt a bit to have his suspicions confirmed. He wondered if Roman had only sat with him out of pity. Poor Logan, he doesn’t have any friends, we should try to include him like some weird, ugly duckling adoption program. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the oppressive wave of apathy that was settling on his shoulders like a protective blanket. Better to feel nothing than to be drowned in disappointment, right? He walked into the mall, nodding at his brother as he passed the food court kiosk that he was working in, and wandered towards the hot topic. He wasn’t thrilled about buying anything from such a corporately owned establishment, but he figured if nothing else, they would be playing halfway decent music. He wandered around for a few minutes, finding a Nasa tank-top he actually liked on sale, and setting it up on the counter. The cashier, a teenager probably L’s age, smiled at him.

      “Is this everything for you?” Logan didn’t answer, just nodded disinterestedly. Her smile faltered at his dismissiveness, so she rang him up and told him his total- $9.10- and handed him his bag. He nodded at her, wanding back through the mall, quickly letting his brother know he was just going to head back to their parent’s house. Not home, never home, just “Mom and Dad’s place”. His brother nodded, telling him to be careful, and Logan left the mall quickly.

      With his headphones on, and his eyes trained on the ground, he didn’t notice that the crowd of preps that seemed to be everywhere he was (Perks of a small town, he supposed. It was hard to miss a crowd of twenty teenagers.) were all sitting in a yard to his left. He also didn’t notice the way several of them called him over, or the way they looked both confused and mildly offended when he walked right past them without even acknowledging their existence.  He turned the corner at the end of the block, cutting through his parent’s yard and onto the porch. He hadn’t even made it through the door before he could smell marijuana and alcohol. He groaned, knowing that while his father would almost certainly be calmer now that he was high, his mother would be drunk, which meant she would be far more aggressive than typical. He opened the door and started coughing at the smoke. His father raised his head, vaguely acknowledging his son. Logan looked around, trying to figure out where his mother was, only to figure it out when what was at one point a beer bottle shattered against the wall directly behind him. He jumped forward, turning towards his mother, astonished.

      “What the hel-” He started, but cut himself off. His mother was standing, swaying a bit on her feet.

      “Where’s your brother?” She was slurring her words.

      “He’s at work, mother. He told you that before he left.” He could feel his throat tightening when she stepped towards him. His boots crunched glass as he stepped away from her, his back now against the wall. He was trying to figure out if he could make it out the door before she made her way to him when the second bottle came flying towards him. It, like the first, hit the wall, but the glass shards flew into his face and neck, most of them harmlessly hitting him and falling to the ground, but a few scraped him, and even fewer stuck into his skin.

      “Don’t talk- don’t talk back to me!” Logan swallowed around the lump in his throat.

      “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am.” She nodded before coming forward to stand in front of him. Her eyes narrowed, and before Logan could apologize again she slapped the side of his face that didn’t have glass in it. Logan, who was admittedly not expecting that, fell at the impact, his hand that reached out to catch him sinking into the glass. “Fuck!” He groaned, the combination of blood and beer on his skin made him feel nauseous. Or, perhaps, it was the pain. His mother had already left, going back to her previous seat in the kitchen, and Logan was left on the floor, bleeding and trying to keep himself from crying.  

[groundzerobakugo]

absent // k. bakugou

  gender in this imagine will be female. if you wish for me to create this with male or genderneutral pronouns please feel free to send a message my way. i would be happy to help!

word count: 3.6k

summary: a big ass misunderstanding that leads to hella angst and an ending off fluff.

...

  if he’d done something, he didn’t know what. all of the sudden, his favorite person in the world had began fading away from him. it started with canceling hangouts, and then fewer syllable texts, and then never answering or returning his calls. and he was hurt, and he was confused, and he was upset—you had dropped out of his life without warning.

  bakugou katsuki didn’t have many friends. none that he would claim, anyway. of course, there was shitty hair and sometimes he’d admit that discount pikachu was an acquaintance.

  but the one constant, the one he never denied was his friend, the one annoying piece of shit he could never live without was you. you hanging off his shoulder as he tried to study. you shoving him in the middle of an intense video game so you could win the upper hand. you sneaking into his room late at night when the world seemed too much.

  and then you just up and disappeared.

  the phone started ringing, and the blond anxiously held it up to his ear. he felt fidgety, out of place in his own room, and he paced from wall to wall. 

  he was in love with you, the icing on the cake. kami, bakugou didn’t know when it started. you were still an annoying pest like the rest of them, just a bit of a step up, but at some point, you stopped being so annoying. he began to crave those late night moments with just the two of you, when you’d weaseled your way into his room to bug him when he should have been sleeping. and he could hear your laugh and see your smile, a private show just for him.

  it continued to ring. he plopped down on his bed and drummed his fingers along his thigh. still ringing. he let out an annoyed sigh and stood.

  he didn’t even get to talk to you during class. you’d make it there just before the bell rang for class to start, and you booked it out just as the bell rang for class to end. you’d disappear during break and lunch, the blond unable to find you in the lunchroom, in the hallways, even on that damn roof you liked to hideout on. you hid from him during hero practices, and if he tried to talk to you, you blew him off and–

  “hey!”

  bakugou jumped. “(name), i–“

  “sorry i missed your call. leave a message, and–”

  bakugou hung up and threw his phone on the bed, but it missed and hit the wall, cracked as it fell down the space between his bed and the wall he shared with kirishima. he ran his hand through his unkempt hair in frustration, and he growled a loud goddammit!

  there was a knock at the door, the shadow of someone standing in front of it showing through the crack under the door. for half a second, he had the mind to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but against his judgement he begrudgingly opened the door.

  shitty hair stood at the door with his usual carefree smile. “hey, bakugou! some of us are going down to the arcade, did you wanna come with? i know it’s not your scene, but figured i ask anyway!”

  bakugou grunted, mulling it over. yeah, he’d rather stay in than deal with the rest of the fuckasses, but what else did he have to do? the one person he cared for the most had gone missing in action. so, he shrugged, “sure, not like i’m busy.”

  kirishima’s grin widened, and the two headed downstairs, meeting up with the rest of the so-called bakusquad and walking out to the arcade.

  at some point, kaminari and sero were started playing some stupid first-person shooting game, kirishima cheering them on and ashido calling out every single target for them to hit. bakugou had stood off to the side; he was leaning on the wall, arms crossed over his chest, face pulled into a scowl. 

  it didn’t matter if he just got there. he wanted to go back to the dorms the moment he stepped into the arcade. it didn’t feel right to be at the arcade with the other fuckasses without your stupid ass.

  without you calling “versus against the winner,” without your pout when you lost against sero, without your cute ass grin when you won against kaminari, without you constantly begging for bakugou to win you a stuffed animal from the crane game because he’s the best crane game player in the whole world.

  “–ey, bakugou?”

  he blinked. sero was waving a hand in front of his face. “the fuck do you want, plain face?”

  “we were gonna go get some food, asked if you wanted to come, but you were, like, spaced out and shit,” sero replied.

  bakugou pushed himself off the wall. “i’m going back to the dorms.”

  ashido pouted, “awh, why?”

  he glared. “because i’m fucking tired.”

  “yeah, say what you want, it’s probably because you’re depressed that (name) got a boyfriend,” kaminari said casually, checking his phone.

  if looks could kill, that damn discount pikachu would have perished in his spot. bakugou had started to stomp towards the stupid fuck, but shitty hair was quick to step in between the two.

  “hey, hey, let’s handle this like men,” he said quickly.

  bakugou’s glare turned towards the redhead. “fuck off, shitty hair, and fuck you, sparky. i don’t give a fuck if (name) got some stupid boyfriend. it’s her own damn life to live, and i don’t give a damn about it. now, i’m fucking going home.”

  he stomped off out of the arcade.

  what the fuck did he fucking care if you fucking had a damn, shitty, fucking, stupid ass boyfriend? big fucking deal! it wasn’t like he even had a damn fucking chance with you anyway. you were too fucking beautiful, too fucking smart, too fucking kind, too fucking soft. you were the fucking sun and the goddamn moon and the stupid ass stars. and him? bakugou was the fucking, goddamn, stupid ass dirt compared to you.

~

  it was just before school, when bakugou was switching his shoes in the locker room and grabbing the right textbooks he needed for class. it had been a late night, he’d been studying into the wee hours of the morning just to keep his mind off of you. 

  you stared at the blond from the safety of your own locker, heart caught in your throat. 

  you’d wanted nothing more than to walk over and act like nothing had happened between you two. act like you weren’t dating someone you didn’t even like. act like you weren’t being forced to stay away from your best friend because you decided it best so you wouldn’t get hurt.

  maybe you’d been staring for too long, but suddenly, the blond had glanced over at you, his crimson eyes locking with your (eye color) ones. it startled you, and you quickly looked away, a blush on your cheeks and heart skipping a beat.

  all you wanted was your best friend, the one you annoyed to no end, the one you talked all night with, the one you were in love with.

  an arm snaked around your waist, and you jumped, turning to see your boyfriend.

  akiyama kiyoshi—sweet and thoughtful and everything anyone in your school could ever want in a significant other. he was someone you’d met during a school clean up, from the general studies course and one of shinsou’s friends. he had a decent quirk, and while he didn’t aspire to be a number one hero, he expressed his desires to help people when he graduated yuuei.

  “morning!” he smiled, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

  you mustered up a carefree smile. “good morning!”

  a locker slammed behind you, and bakugou stormed by. 

  the smile faded ever so slightly on your face as you watched him disappear up the stairs.

  “everything okay?” akiyama asked.

  you blinked, looking back at him. 

  how much longer could you hold up the façade that you weren’t dying on the inside? the boy in front of you meant absolutely nothing compared to the hothead asshole that you loved, that you pushed away.

  the boy in front of you sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “you know, (name), you don’t have to date me if you don’t want to.”

  “wh-what?” you stammered. “what makes you think i–”

  “i can see the way you look at him,” he replied. “bakugou, from your class.”

  “i don’t... i...,” but the words jammed in your mouth. 

  you couldn’t say you didn’t like bakugou, as much as you wanted to. because you did like bakugou. sometimes, it felt like you even loved him.

  akiyama smiled, soft and with a hint of sadness. “it’s okay, (name). i... i had a feeling you liked him, even when i asked you out. i risked that chance, and while i would love to continue this, i can see it pains you.”

  you looked to the floor. “sorry, akiyama-kun.”

  “don’t worry about it. i’ll see you around, okay?”

  the boy turned away from you and headed up the same stairs bakugou had gone up just a few minutes prior.

  your vision grew blurry with tears. 

  it felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, but despite that, an overwhelming sense of urgency to leave filled you. you didn’t want to have to see bakugou after akiyama broke up with you. you couldn’t deal with that. hell, he probably didn’t want anything to do with you anymore, not after the way you just blocked him out of your life like that.

  “good morning, (name)-chan!” uraraka greeted as she saw you standing alone at your locker.

  you turned to her. “tell aizawa-sensei i’m not feeling well, please.” and you brushed past her, heading back towards the dorms.

  the girl watched you leave with her brows knitted in confusion. she had half a mind to go after you and ask what was wrong, but aizawa-sensei would kill her if she was late to class again. so uraraka switched out her shoes and jogged to class, texting you an i hope you’re okay, let me know if you need to talk message before going inside.

  tsuyu waved at her upon seeing the brunette make it to class on time, and the girl headed towards the frog girl with a worried expression on her face.

  “did you talk to (name) this morning?” uraraka asked.

  but the green-haired girl shook her head. “nuh-uh. is everything okay with her, kero?”

  uraraka pursed her lips. “i’m not sure. she didn’t say much, she–”

  “you’re not in class for chitchat. uraraka, get to your seat,” aizawa said from the front of the room. he scanned the room, eyes locking on your empty seat. “anyone know where (last name) is?”

  the brunette raised her hand. “she said she wasn’t feeling well, sensei.”

  the man simply shrugged. “make sure she gets the notes from today’s class then.”

  bakugou looked over at uraraka when aizawa turned his back to the class, his brow furrowed. he’d just seen you in the locker room with that stupid dumb boyfriend of yours. you didn’t look sick, so what the fuck happened after he left?

...

  the day passed by in a blur for you. holed up in your dorm room with the lights off and music softly playing through your headphones. you were laid underneath a pile of blankets, curled up on your bed and thoughts swirling together of what had happened and of a certain blond-haired individual.

  how were you supposed to face bakugou tomorrow? he probably already suspected something happened with you and akiyama. he saw you at the shoe lockers; you two made eye contact from kami’s sake! he’d know something was up the moment uraraka said you were suddenly sick. and–wait.

  you paused.

  bakugou wouldn’t care. bakugou didn’t give a damn about why he saw you at the shoe lockers and then didn’t see you in class. he probably didn’t even notice you were missing. and why should he notice? why should he care after the way you’d treated him? after blocking him out of your life for no reason that he would ever know about. 

  the realization, while it made you relieved, it also depressed you to think about.

  you sat up and sighed, the sound wavering and shaky. the sun had long since set in the sky, and the moon had taken over. it was most likely late at night, too late for anyone else to be awake. you’d passed the entire day in the safety of your blankets, and you could have stayed in there a until the end of time had it not been for your grumbling stomach.

  the hallways were cold as you made your way to the elevator. it was deadly silent, not even a peep from ashido’s room where she usually had music playing while she studied. it took a minute, but the elevator finally reached your floor, and you took it all the way down to the common area.

  it was dark, and you held your hands out blindly in front of you, feeling your way to the kitchen. finally finding it, you flicked the light on and headed for the pantry. there wasn’t much, but you grabbed a small snack and a box of peppermint tea; somehow, the tea always made you feel better and refreshed. you turned and walked into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

  “if you’re sick, you shouldn’t be up so late, (name)-kun,” a voice said.

  you jumped and spun around, stifling a scared gasp. “ki-kiri-kun.”

  “unless you’re not sick.”

  you gulped. “i-i, uh....”

  the redhead gave you a gentle smile. “relax. i’m not here to confront you or anything. it’s your business as to why you skipped class.”

  you opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it.

  “you should really talk to bakugou, though,” he said. “some shit went down today, and things happened.”

  your eyes widened. “what happened?”

  but kirishima shrugged. “that’s something to ask bakugou. i’m gonna get some water, but i think you know where his room is.”

  “i do,” a lump appeared in your throat. “but, i have to ask. is... is he mad at me at all?”

  kirishima laughed. “bakugou? he could never be mad at you. good luck, i hope everything works out.”

  your brows furrowed. “what do you mean by that?”

  “nothing. you’ll see.”

  he watched as you made your way towards the boys’ elevator, and he waved at you as the doors shut and you began your ascent to the third floor.

  it had taken you a few minutes to gather the courage in the elevator. you stood in front of bakugou’s door, heart hammering in your chest. something had happened today, something while you weren’t at school, something that had to do with bakugou. you were worried. what if he got hurt in a mock battle or he overdid it with his quirk again?

  the anxiety became too much, and you knocked softly at his door.

  no answer.

  you knocked again, this time louder, in case he was asleep but just quietly enough not to wake anyone else up.

  again, no answer.

  you took a deep breath and placed your ear at the door to listen if he was even awake at this hour. there was the distant hum of music, but it was a bit late and bakugou went to bed pretty early.

  “bakugou?” you whispered. “bakugou-kun, it’s me.”

  but still there was no answer.

  you had half a mind to try jiggling the handle to see if he’d locked the door, but you knew that it would be. he always slept with the door locked. kaminari was too infamous for pulling pranks, and he was the only one stupid enough to try one on bakugou much to midoriya’s anxiety. so, you turned away from the door.

  kirishima passed you on your way back to the elevator, noticing your dejected expression.

  “he’s asleep,” you said and hit the button for the common room.

  kirishima knew better though, and he entered his own room, knocking on the wall he shared with bakugou. when he didn’t get a knock back, he knocked again, harder, but unlike you, he knew that the other guys were too heavy of sleepers to hear knocking on the walls. he’d found that out when bakugou had blasted an explosion at him at three am for waking him up, and no one else had heard the following morning.

  “hey, bakugou!” he called into the wall. he leaned against it, listening for a sound. “oi, bro, wake up!”

  there was the distant sound of shuffling, and then a half-assed knock. “what the fuck do you want, shitty hair?!” it was muffled through the wall, but kirishima heard it clear as day.

  “(name) wanted to talk to you,” he called back. “she might have gone back to–”

  a door slammed shut, and kirishima leaned back into his bed. his work was done.

  bakugou stormed down the hall and impatiently continued to press the down button for the elevator, tapping his foot. it took its damn sweet time, but the moment the doors open, he switched to impatiently continuing to hit the button for the common room until the doors shut.

  while it felt like years, the elevator finally fucking got to the bottom floor, and bakugou hurried out and into the common room. but, his step faltered as he noticed you curled up with a blanket on the couch, head propped up on your arm, resting on the armrest.

  you noticed the movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turned to see bakugou. your heart jumped to your throat. “ba-bakugou-kun, are you okay?” you sat up, looking him over in the dim lighting. he didn’t look hurt, but recovery girl did work miracles sometimes.

  he stomped over with his eyes narrowed. “where were you? why the fuck weren’t you in class today? and don’t say you were sick because i know you fucking weren’t.”

  immediately, you could feel the panic coming on, the fear of confessing everything to him, as you suddenly couldn’t seem to stop shaking and your heartbeat sped up and the air become thinner as your breaths became shorter from being put on the spot.

  now or never. 

  “i-i-i, well, i....” it unraveled. “akiyama broke up with me today because i don’t like him and never really liked him, and he knew that when he asked me out, but he still wanted to try anyway, and then, like, he saw me staring at you today when you left for class, and he was like, i know that you're in love with bakugou, so you should go be with him rather than stay unhappy with me.

  “so he broke up with,” you hiccuped, “with me because i’m in love with you, but i can’t because you’re my best friend, but i can’t be your best friend because i’m in love with you, and i know that you don’t return the feelings, which is why i distanced myself because–”

  you were interrupted by a pair of soft lips crashing into yours, and your mind went blank. was bakugou fucking katsuki fucking kissing you?! but, before you could even think to kiss back, he pulled away with a smirk.

  “you know, you can be such a fucking idiot,” he laughed, soft and quiet, like no one else was supposed to hear. “this all could have been fucking avoided if you’d just talked to me, dumbass. if you’d just fucking talked to me, you wouldn’t have had to avoid me, nor would you have had to gone out with that stupid punk, nor would you have had to skip school,” he said. “if you’d just fucking talked to me we would have already been fucking dating.”

  you blinked with wide eyes. “i... you... we... we kissed.”

  “we did.”

  “we should do it again, i wasn’t ready.”

  “we can,” he said. “but only if you promise not to fucking pull that shit again.”

  a blush spread across your cheeks. “i promise, so please just fucking kiss me already.”

  and without another word he did. the sweet scent of burnt sugar filled your senses again, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, his lips soft and inviting. you kissed back with fervor, and his arms wound themselves around your waist.

  you pulled back, catching your breath and resting your forehead against his. “so, we’re... dating, right?”

  “of course we’re fucking dating, dumbass.”

  “good.”

  “good.”

  “okay,” you smiled. but, then the smile faded as you suddenly remembered what kirishima had said earlier. “hey, baku-kun?”

  “hmm?” he’d rested his head on your shoulder.

  “kirishima said something happened today,” you said. “so... what happened?”

  bakugou went rigid. “nothing of importance.”

  “are you sure?”

  “yes, i’m damn sure.”

  “just checking.” a moment of silence passed. “hey, baku-kun?”

  “...what?” he grunted. “m’trying to sleep.”

  you laughed quietly. “nothing, never mind. goodnight.”

  “night....”

  after everyone had found you two in the common room and woken you up, you’d found out what had happened.

  bakugou thought akiyama had done something and went off in a rage, pinning him against a wall and demanding to know what was wrong with you. scared the poor boy shitless into admitting that you didn’t like akiyama anyway and liked somebody else. that somebody else being the blond.

...

  ...okay listen, ik yall are probably sick of all the angsty shit i post and ik ive been posting some kinda sad shit with unsatisfactory endings, but im sorry. still trying to get back into the swing of things. next fic will definitely be fluffier and happier. bakugou just radiates angst for me so

also! please let me know what you guys think. i love reading tags or replies to my lil one-shot fics, and it makes me sad when no one gives me feedback.

[sneksue]

Official Post About Lifestyle Changes

The date is January 28, 2021. 

I have not had chickens for a while. It will be 2 years in August. I have been meaning to write something here about all of it, but I either have not had time, or the willpower to go through with it. I was in grieving. 

In June of 2019, I took a trip from my shared homestead in Mississippi to Colorado to do some long distance hiking. I left all of my animals in the care of my ex husband’s mother and her then boyfriend. 

I trusted them to at least do the bare minimum in my animal’s basic care. 

That didn’t happen. They failed night after night to close and lock the coop’s door. They wouldn’t change their water during the day and they did not collect eggs. 

When I had service on my phone during the hike, I checked in with them to find out that because they had not closed or locked the coop door at night, several birds were “missing”, with more missing every day. 

Instead of simply closing the door and providing a safe space for my dear, darling animals to sleep at night, they decided to buy a game camera to see what was happening to them at night. 

Their reasoning had absolutely zero logic, and I was pretty pissed.

They found that raccoons were simply just waltzing into the coops and grabbing birds. The raccoons would drag them away into the woods and feast. 

By the time our trip was almost over, all of my ducks were gone. There were only a few chickens left, and the guinea fowl were all intact due to roosting 50ft up in oak trees. My cat was also “missing”.

I was heartbroken, devastated. I had spent so much money, time, energy, and love to build this flock. I wanted to provide my “family” and myself with sustainable, renewable food in case of a natural disaster. No one seemed to value my efforts, or even care to see what my end goal was. 

On top of grieving for the loss of my feathered babies, my then husband’s younger brother decided to GO OFF on me during our drive back to Mississippi. He claimed I was selfish, psychotic, uncaring, and manipulative. He screamed at me while we were all stuck in the car. He called me a bitch, he called me a liar, he called me a leech. I was stunned in silence. I had been struggling with my mental health for years, and had contemplated suicide more times than I could count. So, it is no surprise that while we were driving 70mph on the interstate, I seriously contemplated opening the car door and leaping out into traffic. 

I turned to my husband, my partner, the love of my life, my support system, to back me up. Defend me. Tell his brother that he was wrong. My husband did nothing of the sort. He remained silent as the verbal barrage from his brother continued. 

Everything clicked for me then. My mother in law was a complete nutcase, she blamed me for all of my husband’s shortcomings. She viewed me as a failure for not being the perfect housewife. She only saw me as a burden on her son’s happiness. My husband maintained an emotional distance from me for several years. He refused to be intimate towards me. He never showed an interest in me, my thoughts, my feelings. He never stood up for me or was proud to show me off. He never commended my strengths and triumphs, he only pointed out what he viewed were my failures. My brother in law was more of a nutcase than his mother, physically abusing his dog and neglecting his cat, leeching off of his mother and getting handouts at every possible opportunity, spending his days smoking hundreds of dollars of marijuana, drinking booze, playing videogames. 

I had no social life, I wasn’t allowed to have a social life. 

I had no friends I could hang out with, all of my friends were online. 

No matter how much I did for these people and how much I excelled at everything I did, nothing was ever enough. I was never enough. 

No wonder I struggled with mental health, eh?

I came to this realization instantaneously, and demanded to be dropped off at my dad’s house in Westminster, CO. 

I had none of my personal belongings besides my hiking and camping stuff. I didn’t care, I just had to get away from these toxic monsters. 

My husband and I loosely decided that this would be a “break” for our relationship, and that he would go back to MS to work and save up to move here with me. I agreed and I began working and saving up myself. 

We both knew he was never going to come here. We were never going to be together again. 

We remained in close contact for a few months after the separation. But the contact and our conversations became fewer and less substantial. 

One night, as I was walking home from work, I called and told him that I thought we should break up. He admitted to me that he had removed his wedding ring over three weeks prior. I was understandably hurt by that, but I did understand. 

He also informed me that all of the birds were gone or dead except for a couple roosters. 

I was more devastated by the loss of my birds than the loss of my marriage. If that doesn’t tell you enough, I don’t know what does!! 

My cat never returned. 

I asked him if we could keep in contact, and he told me he did not want to talk to me or hear from me for several years. I was once again hurt by this, but with his own mental health issues, I again, understood. He did say he can see us being friends in the future, but now that its been some time, I don’t want to be friends with him. I want the best for him, but I can’t bring myself to expose my mentality to his toxicity and negativity. 

I asked again and again, over a period of months, for him to return my belongings. He kept putting it off. I told him I was going to drive down there myself and gather everything i could and dispose of the rest. 

He agreed, initially, then banned me from coming only after I requested the time off from work and had friends to accompany me on the journey, He promised he’d send all my stuff in several shipments after he sold my car. I told him he could keep the profit from the sale of my car and use it to send me my stuff. 

He ended up sending me ONE box of my stuff. And most of it wasn’t even mine. I was appalled and disgusted that he’d be so careless and inconsiderate. 

I sent him messages and requested SPECIFIC items after I received the first box. I got no reply, and no more packages to this day have been sent. 

He and his family stole my property, killed my pets, and broke my heart. 

Thieves, liars, and extremists, the lot of them. 

I grieve daily for the loss of my animals and the torture I was put through for nearly 6 years. 

All of that out of the way, let me move on to tell you what this blog will now feature. 

I have obviously had a change in lifestyle. I no longer live on homesteading land, I live in a roomy two bedroom apartment with my AMAZING fiance. 

My love of chickens, I discovered, was a love for reptiles in general. Cuz birds are reptiles and all that jazz. 

When I met my fiance, I was already blown away by his attitude, confidence, and view on life right off the bat! He inspired me, made me want to be better to myself. 

Meeting him felt weird, at first. It felt weird because I was waiting for this amazing person to... have a catch. There’s gotta be a red flag somewhere. And if there isn’t... he is probably a psychopath who will eventually turn on me and kill me. No one is that... good. 

So I thought to myself, “Welp, gotta find out. I’ll go to his house!”

He had a couple little snakes in his room which I demanded to play with. He happily got them out and I was like “THAT’S the catch? Nah, this just convinces me this guy is... my kind of guy.” 

I’ve had a love of snakes since early childhood. Not an interest of passion, but I truly loved interacting with and watching them. I’ve never had an innate fear of any insect, (exclude honeybee, because I didn’t know better at 6 years old), or animal. I love them all and everything they do to contribute. All they experience. 

I used to catch wild garter snakes and rat snakes in nets, pet them, show them to my mother occasionally to freak her out, and release them. Then watch them. 

There were a mating pair of Oteekee Corn Snakes in my HS yard. Every summer we’d see them, out and about hunting, hiding, climbing... growing. They were bright red and jet black with specks of yellow. I could tell these guys were pretty smart and maybe there was more to snakes than I really thought about ever. 

So, being sold on this amazing guy, we up and moved in together. Nice. My paycheck kept going up and up. I was saving a ton. I wanted a car and an apartment as soon as possible. 

I got bonus after bonus for working hard at my job and everyone hitting labor targets. 

We got a place. Nice. 

Both got steady jobs. Nice. 

There’s uh, a lot of room in this new place. Nice. 

Hey it’s my birthday and I can get myself a snake. I have more than enough for supplies and the animal itself. 

I browsed on morphmarket for what felt like ages.... 

I had no idea that there were.... so many complicated genetics with ball pythons. I was highly interested, because if you know me, you know I’m interested in genetics and selective breeding. 

I found there were THOUSANDS of genetic combinations, each with unique names. It was like alien code. The animals were beautiful but I had no idea what I was really looking at. 

One night while going to our local reptile store to get feeder rats, I was looking around at all the glass window babies, as I usually do. 

I made my way around the scorpions, tarantulas, cave scorpions, frogs, lizards, the store’s companion burmese python, and my eyes landed on a little... adorable puppy-eyed baby ball python. The signage stated that it was a Puma. Seemed simple enough. Easy name to remember. I looked into the glass at the lil noodle, and talked all baby talk and shit. The sweet little thing came right up to scope at me, then yawned. 

I called an employee over and said I’d like to handle this animal right here. The employee obliged and I fell in love. Sexed as male. Easy buy. 

I cried on the way home, It was amazing. I have one picture on here of him a few days after I got him. His name is Mallow, and he is bigger now, but still just as sweet. 

So yeah. It went from there. Now, including the boa and ball python that are my fiance’s, and Mallow, we have added 3 more to our family. We are done now, as these animals may live a loooooong time. And they require space and attention just like any other pet. They’re not expensive, and they’re low maintenance care is nearly brainless if you set it up right. They’re statistically and actually safer than dogs or cats, and are absolutely therapeutic and entertaining. 

This blog will from this day forward be dedicated to snake content, reptile content, and a lot more fun, actually good pictures. I will also share genetic related stuff I find relevant. 

Not having a shitty phone camera is pretty great, tbh. 

TLDR: No more homestead. Ex is evil (yeah yeah), New place new animal new me. SNAKES! SNAKES!!!! SNAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEESSSSS!

I know this post is just for me but whatever, if I make myself laugh. Cool. G’night. 

[donneko]

One day, I’m good enough.

This is my first Short Story in English, so please be gentle. (But fair critics are welcome) After my brief thought on Jerry Baynard, I really wanted to make a little story out of it. Here we go...

Rien n'a jamais fait autant de mal ...

With the book of Frankenstein and the porcelain poodle at his feet, which lay in the dirt, the young Baynard stood in front of the bridge on which the otherwise charming Diana Barry left him standing. Jerry had lowered his eyes to the gifts he had given Diana. That's exactly how he felt. As if she lifted him up and now threw it back exactly where he belongs; in the dirt. It hurt so incredibly that he felt every breath burning in his throat as soon as she had turned her heel to stalk across the bridge. The tré charming girl left a tré blessé boy behind.

If Diana turned to Jerry only once, she would have seen that he was standing there petrified and not moving. It is like it is. She had broken his heart. You couldn't talk it over or appease it. His eyes on the floor, focused on his shabby gifts, he wiped his eyes with his arm. He wanted to keep those tears back that shone in his dark brown eyes, which tied up his throat. No, he didn't want to cry. He wanted to be strong, not let it get him down and not lose his value, as Anne might say - just with a flowerier choice of words. For a few breaths he could pull himself together until it overpowered him, his whole body trembled, that he could hardly breathe and so he gasped. And all of a sudden, he couldn't stop the warm tears that soaked his sleeves.

It wasn't like Jerry isn't used to being treated like dirt. Little frog, frog-eater, dirty Frenchman, street dog and what else came to mind for the honorable residents of Avonlea - so there was a whole list that was thrown against the young Baynard before he got his job on Green Gables, so fewer people enjoyed in humiliating him when he was on the street selling newspapers. He hated the city. Jerry has been pushed around for years and not just beaten twice, but four times. The first time for what he is; a little Frenchman with dirty clothes who hardly knew a word of English at the time. The second time because they weren't satisfied with his work. The third time because he was stupid and careless, so he got robbed. The fourth time because he wanted to stand up for someone he liked. Because he wanted to do something right, just once in his life. But none of this has ever hurt as much as this moment. Looking at his origins, it was actually only a matter of time before the rich upper-class girl dropped him, to face a better future he could never offer her. What was he thinking? What hopes had he ever had?

Living in Avonlea, for someone who had to learn the local language with difficulty, without having been to school and always working, was not uncommon to be insulted and treated in this way. They were a large family with three brothers and three sisters who live in a wooden cabin with only one room. Ordinary trappers and the lowest working class. He could never have anything of great value. But Diana knew all that. She knew how he lived and yet ... had she only played with him? Was he a fun pastime until he got too stupid for Diana or better doors opened for her? Was he the first boy she gave some hope? Or was he already the second or even third, who got lost in her fawn eyes and thought he had fallen head over heels in love?

He couldn't even blame Diana for leaving him here. What could the Farmboy of Green Gables ever offer her? Would she want to live in a house where everyone sleeps in one room? Hardly likely! Jerry had seen her aunt Josephine live. In this big house that looked like a palace. With a servant and the many rooms and all the pretty clothes, as well as the most expensive jewelry that could be imagined. It was an incredibly beautiful and carefree life where you never had to worry about not having enough food for the next day.

In the end, he was just the farm boy who is not good enough for a girl like Diana. There was nothing to shake about it. That's the reality. Jerry was a simple apple that could be found everywhere, on every tree in Avonlea, and Diana was a fruity, sweet-smelling, expensive orange, the taste of which he had only gotten once.

But could it be that simple? Couldn't it be that one day he's ... good enough? In his mind he heard the voice of Anne steadily, to knight him or giving him a map, so he can be a adventurer who travels the world because ... anything is possible. Maybe Anne was right. Maybe everything is possible! Carried by these words, his feet led him to a door of a young woman who gave him exactly that feeling when he looked into her brown eyes.

„Miss Stacy, forgive me for the disturbance, I ...“, as soon as the door to the small wooden hut opened, where he was knocking and stepping nervously from one foot to the other, this request for which he came for, was unspeakable. Oh sacrément, what was he thinking? Completely rushed, his eyes flushed with tears, he stood here and did not know where to start. „Um, Jerry, right? What a surprise. What brings you to me?“ A kind and so warm smile came from Miss Stacy's lips that the right words that came to his mind on the way here, got stuck in his throat. The smile on her lips persisted as the boy, who towered over her head, faced her at the entrance to her house. The young Farmboy at Green Gables had never met her before. Not so directly, not personally, and certainly not in front of her door in the early summer evening.

„I thought, well, I was wondering if maybe you could ... help me? I already learned something. Anne, she - she taught me to read and write. Well, I'm not really good at it, but I can do a little bit of that ...“ Jerry joked nervously, sliding more and more into the French accent, as he got unsecure. During his indistinct stammering, Jerry pulled the cap from his head out of courtesy, which was convenient for him now because he was kneading it in his hands. „You want to learn something? Go to school? That's excellent“, said Miss Stacy with joy, who in this case did not seem to really understand where the problem was. Whereby she had noticed the reddened eyes long ago, which gleamed suspiciously after shedding tears. „You can start right away next year. Together with the rest of the class“, Miss Stacy offered for the next school year, whereupon the initial smile faded from Jerry, who became more aware of his situation. „No, I can not do that … I-I have to work, Miss Stacy ... Pardon, I shouldn't have asked, that was stupid of me ...“, Jerry stammered back, as he did so often when he thought he was wrong. „Oh, of course, I understand. Then in the evening, after work“, she promptly said to bring Jerry, who had already put on the cap, to flee from the unpleasant situation back into the conversation.

The way he stood in front of her door, barely able to lift his head, to look the young woman in the eye, as he stuttered with nervousness, made an extremely pitiful and sad impression on Jerry. She hadn't seen him often - but she hadn't remembered the French boy so depressed.

„Merci, Miss Stacy. I don't have much, but I ...“,  with another deep breath, Jerry pulled out a bag that was already telling treacherously. It didn't sound like much, but it sounded like it was all he had. Miss Stacy shook her head immediately as soon as she took the hand with the purse in her hands to push it away. „That is not necessary“, she said with a loving smile, as well as her brown eyes looked at the boy. „You come over whenever you have time, and then we'll see. I'm more than happy to be able to help you, Jerry.“ With that admonishing look that raised her eyebrows, she indicated that he should put the hard-earned coins back in.

„Merci beaucoup. I don't know how I should ever thank you for that“, a relieved smile flitted across the sad face. For Miss Stacy, however, it goes without saying, for which he would never have to thank her. Especially not with his hard earned money.

[awaylaughing]

I was playing around with the girls’ various backgrounds and a few wee HCs for some of them were spawned. There’s smth for each one here, some more or less though. (Pippa has the most tho bc I am. Very biased).

Aurora, Baroness Namaire

- wicked good at poker, she learned from her mother, and went on to teach all her siblings

- has a minor rivalry with one of her baronial neighbour’s wife: in a rare subversion from expectation though it’s centred entirely around creating Revair’s best plum wine, and growing the best northern plums in general. No one has died, been blackmailed, and so far, not one case of arson has occurred. It’s all very atypical.

- was named for her mother’s younger brother, Aurean, who backed the old empire during the coup and was executed for it.

- knows how to patch stucco and fix thatching, skills she’s not had any reason to flex since she was 17.

Michi of Holt

- hates super spicy food, or super spiced food, or even super sweet food – delicate pallet on this one.

- learned to draw because of her third tutor (the first two gave up) who realized that if he let Michi pick the class location and doodle, she learned way better than locking her in a room and yelling at her.

- had a really, really complicated relationship with her maternal grandmother Myrna of Brehna whom she loved, but also resented both for how her grandmother impacted her relationship with her dying mother, and her grandma’s ‘my way or the highway’ approach to teaching Michi etiquette.

- on the note of the Brehnas, Michi is related to Noa via that branch (Myrna’s father is Isador’s paternal grandmother’s brother - making Noa and Michi 4th cousins)

Noa of Hise

- despite the stereotype, much prefers to be decked out in silver (brings out her eyes)

- mildly dyslexic, she spent her childhood doggedly trying to hide her difficulties learned her grandfather, Bantim or “Bonny Tim”, had the thing.

- lived in Wellin for 3 hours after her mother died. Her father insisted they move back, and Noa, worried for his health agreed. Three days in one of Isadore’s brothers made an offhand remark about Blackthorn and Noa alike, and her father walked right out of the parlor and back onto the ship that had brought them to Wellin in the first place, a greatly relieved Noa trailing behind him.

- was terrified of heights when she was a younger, a condition she considered intolerable and thus found her scaling every vertical surface she could find. Cousins or her mother had to got fetch her down a few times, but she largely outgrew it and now she only get queasy very rarely.

Pippa of Corval

- was actually born an fraternal [edit bc I changed my mind] twin, however her sister died after only three days. Corvali traditions wait a week after birth to name children (or, the seventh night, to be more exact), so her sister was never named. Pippa doesn’t have much of an opinion about this, other than joking maybe sharing that space was why she ended up so short (a minor mystery in the family, as her mother’s quite tall and her father wasn’t tall but not really short, either)

- her snake was actually a gag gift to another girl, Mitra who hates snakes. Basically, Pippa cares for Hihissa 9/10 parts of the yeah, and whenever Mitra’s brother visits, Mitra holds her nose and pretends she’s totally been living with this snake for three years.

- looooves rose water sweets. And tea. A scented oils. Basically, smells like a rose garden all the time and aspires to eat one as well.

- had a reputation as a shockingly well behaved child, from the age 2 onward. In truth, she just figured out very, very young that if you agreed with the adults and then did what you wanted in secret, you got praise and could have fun.

- Once wore nothing but saffron dyed clothing for a whole season: it was on a dare by a lady hoping to beggar a rival. Alas for the lady, she did not realize the Pippa’s mother, Roshan, actually owns several acres of saffron fields. Roshan felt supporting her daughter’s flex was worth eating into the profits for a season (but just one).

- named for her aunt, Philippa, her father’s sister who died age 4. In fact, Philippa was meant to be her full first name but her mother never liked it, and so changed it to just be Pippa after Judicael died. A small selection of people do still insist on calling her Philippa however, assuming Pippa to be a familiar nickname.

- (technically her first name is Mehr, but that acts as a sort of generation name for girls in her family, and thus goes unused.)

- No one actually calls her Pip, she just wasn’t going to tell of a Princess so went the most obvious option outside of telling her Pippa is technically a nickname

- semi related to above: astonishes her mother with how much of her personality is a vivid reflection of Judicael’s, despite Pippa being born posthumously to him. The only major difference really is Pippa is more scheming - and from a Corvali perspective, Pippa’s an outright Non-Schemer, so that tells you more about Judicael than it does Pippa.

- lowkey hates wearing shoes, avoids when possible (and thus, pays special attention to her toes haha)

Temperance of Arland

- secretly a fan of adventure novels, especially “gentleman explorer” types. Her supplier is the head chef’s son, who leaves them under a bush in the garden for her to borrow from his rather less restricted collection.

- hates chocolate – cannot stand it in any form

- found out at 12 she was almost named Claudia and sort of wishes that had happened – there’s like 13 “princess Temperance”es in the Arlish royal family history, only two Claudias.

- is a natural blonde, but does secretly lighten her hair. As she grew up, it darkened to near-brown blonde. Temperance lightens it in pseudo-secret, because she’s not supposed to be so vain, despite also having to always be pretty.

- pretty neutral towards Innocent, who is 18 years her junior (she’s 25, having been just this side of 17 for the last Summit)

- in Zinnia’s World State, she’s a Wellish lady, daughter of a Landgravine, and far happier for it (her parents are basically a love match that was also politically astute, so it being recreated in another timeline is not unlikely).

Yaen of Jiyel

- grew up in the far, far south of Jiyel, and has never quite gotten used to the northern seasons in the capital.

- lowkey wanted to run away and be a pirate from ages 5-8, looking back, she’s not sure why she outgrew that particular wish

- would eat lemons like oranges except it makes her teeth feel worryingly weird

- when we say “minor lady” we mean it - the family was only entitled in the last three generations - Loda’s father being the rare true blue meritocracy story, going from poor fisherman’s son to high ranking civil servant in his life. Her mother in comparison didn’t have a title at all - but her family were wealthy merchants, specializing in dyes and fabric. Her stepmother, however, is the daughter of a (3rd rank) Marquis, but with three elder brothers that means very little in the land of titles - even for her step mother’s biological sons.

- the nickname used by her father, mother and older sister, Lian, is bug. For obvious reasons, she did not share this with Ana. Her step-mother could use it - Yaen wouldn’t mind, but doesn’t feel comfortable doing so for the simple reason that she’s a naturally anxious woman.

- it’s an open family secret she’s not actually Loda’s biological daughter, but she doesn’t know who her “real” father is. She’s not exceptionally curious about it however - in part because she doesn’t want to hurt Loda in any way more.

Zinnia of Arland

- is the only MC in my roster outside Pippa to have read the Corval Satires, Constance sent her an annotated collection six months before the Summit. “For research”.

- didn’t see her father once between the age of 1 and 7, spending those 6 years on her mother’s private lands while her mother coalesced and avoided her husband. As such, had very atypically non-stodgy (but by no means improper) childhood than most Arlish princesses (Helah is 100% going to be blamed for Zinnia marrying an Arlish Earl oh the shame)

- frequently broke into Prosper’s nursery growing up, because he was her brother and she wanted him to have as much fun with his big sister as she remembered having with Constance as a child (results: fewer frogs caught, but similar levels of big sister adoration from the younger sibling)

- her rebel streak has always been semi-obvious, usually in her doggedly dressing to her own standards – which usually just meant picking colours not necessarily in season (greatly favours greens and browns, not least because the Princess Dowager, her great aunt Evalina was overheard saying she looked like bog-witch in those colours)