#energy saving LED display

[eagerledscreen]

Elevate Your Brand with Energy-Saving LED Displays: A Marketing Game-Changer

When it comes to outdoor advertising, LED displays are swiftly taking over. Businesses' methods of promoting their goods and services are being completely transformed by these displays. LED screens are an efficient means of presenting captivating content and grabbing customers' attention because of their vivid colors and high-resolution visuals. They offer various advantages over traditional method which can be beneficial for your business.

Advantages over traditional signage

Superior image quality: They produce bright, vivid images that are sure to capture attention.

Energy efficiency: They use up to 70% less energy than traditional signage, which can save you money on your energy bills.

Long lifespan: They have a long lifespan of up to 100,000 hours, which means you won't have to replace them as often.

Versatility: They can be used indoors or outdoors, and they can be customized to fit any size or shape.

How can you use LED displays to elevate your brand? High brightness LED screens used to display a brand's logo and marketing message outdoors. These energy saving LED displays can help you to increase the brand awareness and promote your services and products.

Use to create eye-catching signage for your business.

Use to showcase your products and services.

Use to promote special events and promotions.

Use to create a more immersive experience for your customers.

Benefits of using LED displays for your business:

Increased brand awareness: They can increase brand awareness by displaying your logo, products, and services in a way that is sure to capture attention.

Improved customer engagement: They can help you to improve customer engagement by creating a more interactive experience.

Enhanced brand image: They can enhance your brand image by projecting a sense of professionalism and innovation.

By using LED displays, you can create a more engaging and memorable experience for your customers, which can lead to increased sales and improved brand loyalty. If you are also looking forward to take an effective step, you should prefer to buy advertising LED displays from EagerLED. They provide best quality display for your marketing needs.

[nasa]

LaRue Burbank, mathematician and computer, is just one of the many women who were instrumental to NASA missions.

4 Little Known Women Who Made Huge Contributions to NASA

Women have always played a significant role at NASA and its predecessor NACA, although for much of the agency’s history, they received neither the praise nor recognition that their contributions deserved. To celebrate Women’s History Month – and properly highlight some of the little-known women-led accomplishments of NASA’s early history – our archivists gathered the stories of four women whose work was critical to NASA’s success and paved the way for future generations.

LaRue Burbank: One of the Women Who Helped Land a Man on the Moon

LaRue Burbank was a trailblazing mathematician at NASA. Hired in 1954 at Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory (now NASA’s Langley Research Center), she, like many other young women at NACA, the predecessor to NASA, had a bachelor's degree in mathematics. But unlike most, she also had a physics degree. For the next four years, she worked as a "human computer," conducting complex data analyses for engineers using calculators, slide rules, and other instruments. After NASA's founding, she continued this vital work for Project Mercury.

In 1962, she transferred to the newly established Manned Spacecraft Center (now NASA’s Johnson Space Center) in Houston, becoming one of the few female professionals and managers there.  Her expertise in electronics engineering led her to develop critical display systems used by flight controllers in Mission Control to monitor spacecraft during missions. Her work on the Apollo missions was vital to achieving President Kennedy's goal of landing a man on the Moon.

Eilene Galloway: How NASA became… NASA

Eilene Galloway wasn't a NASA employee, but she played a huge role in its very creation. In 1957, after the Soviet Union launched Sputnik, Senator Richard Russell Jr. called on Galloway, an expert on the Atomic Energy Act, to write a report on the U.S. response to the space race. Initially, legislators aimed to essentially re-write the Atomic Energy Act to handle the U.S. space goals. However, Galloway argued that the existing military framework wouldn't suffice – a new agency was needed to oversee both military and civilian aspects of space exploration. This included not just defense, but also meteorology, communications, and international cooperation.

Her work on the National Aeronautics and Space Act ensured NASA had the power to accomplish all these goals, without limitations from the Department of Defense or restrictions on international agreements. Galloway is even to thank for the name "National Aeronautics and Space Administration", as initially NASA was to be called “National Aeronautics and Space Agency” which was deemed to not carry enough weight and status for the wide-ranging role that NASA was to fill.

Barbara Scott: The “Star Trek Nerd” Who Led Our Understanding of the Stars

A self-described "Star Trek nerd," Barbara Scott's passion for space wasn't steered toward engineering by her guidance counselor. But that didn't stop her!  Fueled by her love of math and computer science, she landed at Goddard Spaceflight Center in 1977.  One of the first women working on flight software, Barbara's coding skills became instrumental on missions like the International Ultraviolet Explorer (IUE) and the Thermal Canister Experiment on the Space Shuttle's STS-3.  For the final decade of her impressive career, Scott managed the flight software for the iconic Hubble Space Telescope, a testament to her dedication to space exploration.

Dr. Claire Parkinson: An Early Pioneer in Climate Science Whose Work is Still Saving Lives

Dr. Claire Parkinson's love of math blossomed into a passion for climate science. Inspired by the Moon landing, and the fight for civil rights, she pursued a graduate degree in climatology.  In 1978, her talents landed her at Goddard, where she continued her research on sea ice modeling. But Parkinson's impact goes beyond theory.  She began analyzing satellite data, leading to a groundbreaking discovery: a decline in Arctic sea ice coverage between 1973 and 1987. This critical finding caught the attention of Senator Al Gore, highlighting the urgency of climate change.

Parkinson's leadership extended beyond research.  As Project Scientist for the Aqua satellite, she championed making its data freely available. This real-time information has benefitted countless projects, from wildfire management to weather forecasting, even aiding in monitoring the COVID-19 pandemic. Parkinson's dedication to understanding sea ice patterns and the impact of climate change continues to be a valuable resource for our planet.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space! 

[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 1

The waiting room buzzed with a nervous energy, a mix of anticipation and dread that hung thick in the air. Rebecca fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her fingers tracing the lace pattern absentmindedly. Beside her, Olaf was tapping his foot, his face a careful mask of indifference, though the slight tremor in his leg betrayed his unease. Anna, the calmest of the trio, sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture straight, and her expression serene.

At twenty years old, they had all reached the first critical milestone in their lives—the Maturity Test. Every person was required to take it at twenty, and then every five years after that. The test was designed to determine their place in society, not just in terms of their roles and responsibilities, but their very lifestyle. No one knew exactly how the test worked; it was a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations, the results shaping the course of every citizen’s life.

A door at the far end of the room opened with a quiet hiss, and a woman in a crisp white lab coat stepped out. “Rebecca Green,” she called, her voice soft but commanding.

Rebecca stood up, smoothing her dress one last time before following the woman through the door. Olaf and Anna exchanged a glance, but neither said anything. What was there to say? They had all grown up together, gone through school together, and now this test would decide their futures.

The door closed behind Rebecca, sealing her into a small, sterile room. A single chair sat in the center, facing a large screen. The woman gestured for her to sit.

“Relax, Rebecca,” the woman said, her tone soothing. “This will only take a few minutes.”

Rebecca nodded, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She sat down, the chair surprisingly comfortable. The screen in front of her flickered to life, displaying a series of images, words, and scenarios. Rebecca tried to focus, answering the questions as they appeared, making decisions, reacting to scenarios, all while trying to keep calm.

After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, the screen went black. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. Rebecca’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair, her knuckles white.

Finally, the screen lit up again, displaying a single word in bold letters.

TODDLER

Rebecca stared at the word, her mind reeling. Toddler? What did that mean? But before she could process it, the door behind her opened again, and the woman in the lab coat re-entered, this time accompanied by a man in a similar uniform. He held a small bundle in his hands.

“Rebecca, your classification is toddler,” the woman said, her voice still calm. “This means that, from now on, your lifestyle will be adjusted to fit your new status. This includes, but is not limited to, the wearing of diapers, a supervised environment, and the cessation of adult responsibilities.”

The man stepped forward, handing her the bundle. It was soft, wrapped in pastel-colored fabric. Rebecca’s hands trembled as she took it, unfolding it to reveal a thick, padded diaper. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Your new caretaker will meet you shortly to explain everything,” the woman continued. “Please follow the attendant, and they will guide you to your new quarters.”

Rebecca could barely move, her mind swirling with confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sense of resignation. She was led out of the room, clutching the diaper to her chest like a lifeline.

As she passed by the waiting room, she caught Olaf’s eye. He gave her a tight, sympathetic smile, but there was nothing he could say. Anna, still composed, offered a small nod, acknowledging Rebecca’s fate.

The door closed behind her, leaving Olaf and Anna in silence once more.

“Olaf Lindstrom,” the same woman called, and Olaf rose to his feet. He walked through the door, his heart pounding in his ears.

The process was much the same. The questions, the scenarios, the flashing images on the screen. But Olaf’s mind kept wandering back to Rebecca, to the diaper in her hands, to the word TODDLER that had flashed on the screen. Was that really her future now? What would his be?

When the screen finally settled on his classification, Olaf felt his heart skip a beat.

PRESCHOOLER

The woman re-entered the room, but this time she held something different—a package of pull-ups, adorned with cartoon characters and bright colors.

“Olaf, your classification is preschooler,” she said. “This means that while you have some independence, you will still require supervision and assistance with certain tasks. You will wear these pull-ups, and your activities will be limited to those appropriate for your status.”

Olaf stared at the pull-ups, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washing over him. He wasn’t a toddler like Rebecca, but he wasn’t classified as an adult either. He was stuck in some in-between stage, not quite a baby, but not fully independent.

He was led out of the room, clutching the pull-ups. When he passed the waiting area, Anna’s eyes met his, her expression unreadable. She offered him a small, reassuring smile, but Olaf could see the concern behind it. They had all known that their futures would be decided today, but none of them had expected it to be so drastic.

Finally, it was Anna’s turn. She walked into the room with her head held high, her steps confident. The test followed the same pattern—questions, images, scenarios—but Anna’s mind was calm, focused. She had always been the responsible one, the one who took care of her friends, who excelled in school, who made the right decisions.

When the screen displayed her classification, Anna felt a sense of vindication.

ADULT

The woman in the lab coat entered, holding nothing this time. She simply smiled at Anna, a warm, approving smile.

“Anna, your classification is adult,” she said. “You will continue to live as you have, with full responsibilities and privileges. You have passed your Maturity Test.”

Anna nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. But as she left the room, her thoughts drifted back to Rebecca and Olaf, to the diaper and the pull-ups, to the new lives they were about to lead.

As Anna walked out of the room, she glanced back at the door where Rebecca and Olaf had exited. Her heart ached for her friends, especially for Rebecca, who had been reduced to a toddler by the system. But she knew there was nothing she could do. The classifications were final, and everyone had to live by them.

As she continued down the street, Anna silently vowed to check in on Rebecca and Olaf, to be there for them despite the gulf that had just opened between their lives. Because while the system had classified them differently, they were still her friends, and she wouldn’t let that change.

Anna walked up to the familiar house, the one she had visited so many times before, yet it felt different now. It had been two years since the Maturity Test, and so much had changed. She had just finished her BSc, an accomplishment she was proud of, but now that she was back home, she felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation about reconnecting with her old friends, especially Olaf.

As she approached the front door, Anna could hear muffled laughter from inside. She knocked gently, and within moments, the door swung open to reveal a beaming Olaf. He looked almost the same as she remembered, but there was something different about his demeanor—something softer, less assured.

"Anna!" Olaf exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he pulled her into a warm hug. "It’s so good to see you!"

"You too, Olaf!" Anna replied, hugging him back tightly. "It’s been way too long."

Olaf stepped aside to let her in, and as Anna entered the house, she noticed the subtle changes. The living room had a more childlike vibe now, with toys neatly arranged in one corner and colorful educational posters on the walls. A large stuffed animal sat on the couch, and there was a faint scent of baby powder in the air.

Olaf looked a little different too. His clothes were casual, a bit more childlike than she remembered—loose overalls and a bright, playful t-shirt. And there was a visible outline beneath his overalls that hinted at something... padded.

Lilly appeared from the kitchen, wearing a soft smile and holding a tray of snacks. She looked every bit the doting caregiver, dressed in comfortable clothes that belied her new role in Olaf’s life.

"Anna, it’s so great to see you again," Lilly said warmly, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "I’ve heard so much about how well you’ve been doing."

"Thanks, Lilly," Anna replied, returning the smile. "It’s good to be back home, even if just for a bit."

Olaf began chatting animatedly about his life, clearly eager to share.

“So, I’m in preschool now,” Olaf said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and something else—a hint of embarrassment, maybe? “It’s... well, it’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made some really good friends there.”

Anna nodded, listening intently. “That’s great, Olaf. What kind of stuff do you do in preschool?”

“Oh, you know, we have story time, arts and crafts, and lots of outdoor play,” Olaf said, his eyes lighting up as he talked about the games they played. “It’s really fun, actually. And we have nap time after lunch, which is... kind of nice.”

Lilly chuckled softly, ruffling Olaf’s hair. “He’s the star of the class, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Olaf blushed deeper, looking down at his juice box. “I guess...”

Anna smiled, sensing the comfort yet slight awkwardness Olaf felt in this dynamic. “Sounds like you’re doing great, Olaf. It’s good to see you so happy.”

But then Lilly’s expression turned slightly mischievous. “Olaf, why don’t you tell Anna about that big milestone you hit last year?”

"And, uh," Olaf continued, his tone shifting slightly as he glanced at Lilly, "I also... well, I passed 'Unpotty Training I' last year."

Anna blinked, taking in the information. She had heard of Unpotty Training classes but hadn’t really considered what that meant for someone like Olaf. The idea of Olaf, her old friend who used to be so independent, having accidents like a toddler was hard to wrap her mind around.

Lilly, however, looked absolutely delighted. "He did so well in that class," she said proudly, as if discussing an academic achievement. "He’s such a good boy. He was one of the first in his class to have real accidents."

Olaf squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I-I guess..."

Anna glanced at Lilly, noticing the way she gently but firmly guided Olaf’s behavior. There was a subtle push and pull in their dynamic—Olaf trying to hold on to his independence and maturity, while Lilly seemed eager to encourage his regression. It was an intriguing contrast.

“That’s... really interesting,” Anna said, trying to be supportive while still processing the situation.

Lilly smiled, sensing Anna’s curiosity. “Olaf’s doing great in his preschool class, and he’s learning to embrace this new phase of his life. But, of course, I’m here to help him with whatever he needs.”

Olaf looked at Anna, his expression somewhere between pride and a plea for understanding. “It’s been... different, but Lilly’s been really supportive. She... she helps me a lot.”

Anna watched the interaction, noting how Lilly’s influence seemed to be gently guiding Olaf further away from the maturity he was trying to cling to. It was clear that Lilly enjoyed her role as a caregiver—no, as Mommy.

"So, what happens after these five years?" Anna asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Lilly’s eyes gleamed slightly as she looked at Olaf. "Well, after five years, we all take the Maturity Test again. Depending on how things go, Olaf might stay a preschooler, or... maybe he’ll move on to the next smaller stage."

Olaf’s blush deepened as he looked down at his hands. "I don’t want to move backward, Anna. I want to stay a preschooler... or maybe even move up, if I can."

Lilly chuckled softly, clearly amused by his determination. "We’ll see, sweetie. There’s no rush. For now, let’s just focus on enjoying where you are."

Olaf looked up at her, his expression a mix of resignation and affection. "Yeah... I guess you’re right."

Anna walked through the bright, cheerfully decorated halls of the regression school nursery, a place she never imagined visiting until now. She hadn’t seen Rebecca since before her classification, and she wasn't sure what to expect. The walls were lined with colorful murals, depicting scenes of playful animals and idyllic nature, clearly designed to be soothing and engaging for the residents. The soft hum of lullabies played in the background, adding to the nursery’s serene atmosphere.

Finally, she reached the room number she had been given and knocked gently on the door. A moment later, it swung open, and Anna was greeted by a young woman with a warm smile, dressed in a uniform that marked her as one of the caregivers.

“Hello, you must be Anna,” the caregiver said kindly. “Rebecca’s been talking about your visit all week. She’s just inside, playing with her toys.”

Anna smiled back, feeling a mix of emotions—anticipation, curiosity, and a twinge of sadness as she stepped into the room. It was spacious, filled with soft, pastel-colored furniture, and various toys scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all sat Rebecca, her back to the door, completely absorbed in stacking brightly colored blocks into a wobbly tower.

Rebecca was dressed in a simple shirt with a cartoon character printed on the front, and Anna’s eyes were immediately drawn to the diaper peeking out from beneath it. The thick padding crinkled softly as Rebecca shifted.

“Becky,” Anna called softly, using the childhood nickname that felt oddly appropriate now.

Rebecca turned around, her face lighting up with a broad, innocent smile that made her look younger than her twenty-two years. “Anna!” she squealed, dropping the blocks and crawling over to her friend. When she reached Anna, she wrapped her arms around her legs in an enthusiastic hug, her diaper crinkling loudly with the movement.

“Hi, Becky,” Anna said, crouching down to return the hug. She was struck by how different Rebecca seemed. The way she moved, the way she looked up at Anna with wide, expectant eyes—it was as if Rebecca had truly turned into the toddler she had been classified as.

“Wanna play blocks with me?” Rebecca asked, her voice slightly lisped, whether naturally or from the regression, Anna wasn’t sure. “I’m makin’ a big tower!”

Anna smiled gently. “Sure, I’d love to.” She sat down on the plush rug next to Rebecca, who immediately returned to her task of stacking blocks, her small tongue poking out in concentration.

As they played, Anna observed her friend closely. Rebecca’s mannerisms were so childlike—the way she clapped her hands in delight when the tower didn’t fall over, the way she babbled excitedly about the different colors and shapes of the blocks. It was clear that Rebecca had regressed quite a bit since her classification.

“So, Becky,” Anna started, picking up a block and turning it over in her hands, “how have you been? Do you like it here?”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing with the movement. “Yeah! It’s so fun! I get to play all day, an’ the caregivers are really nice. They give me cookies when I’m good!”

Anna smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. “That sounds nice. And you’re happy?”

“Uh-huh!” Rebecca chirped, not a care in the world as she continued stacking her blocks. “I don’t hafta worry ‘bout big girl stuff anymore.”

Anna nodded, watching Rebecca with a mix of concern and curiosity. The girl in front of her was so different from the Rebecca she once knew—carefree, unburdened, but also entirely dependent on the nursery and its routines. It was a stark contrast to Anna’s own life, where responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders every day.

As they continued to play, Anna couldn’t help but notice something strange—Rebecca’s diaper, which had been dry when she arrived, was still dry. She had been there for nearly three hours, and Rebecca hadn’t shown any signs of needing a change. It struck Anna as odd, considering everything she’d heard about regression schools and their “residents.”

But as the hours passed, Anna started to see small signs. Rebecca would squirm a little more, shift her weight from side to side, and occasionally pause in the middle of talking or playing, as if she was distracted by something. Anna noticed but didn’t say anything, not wanting to embarrass her friend.

Finally, after about three hours, Rebecca paused mid-sentence, her eyes going wide for a moment. She looked down at her diaper, then back up at Anna, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. “Uh-oh...” she mumbled softly, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and a hint of relief.

Anna watched as the colorful designs on Rebecca’s diaper began to fade, the telltale sign of it absorbing wetness. There was a faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and then Rebecca sighed softly, a look of contentment spreading across her face.

“I did a pee-pee,” Rebecca said quietly, almost to herself, as she absentmindedly patted the front of her now-soggy diaper. There was no shame in her voice, just a simple acknowledgment of what had happened.

Anna reached out, gently rubbing Rebecca’s back. “It’s okay, Becky. Do you want me to get someone to change you?”

Rebecca shook her head, leaning into Anna’s touch. “No, it’s okay. I’m comfy.”

Anna continued to rub her back, noticing how Rebecca seemed completely at ease with her situation. "You really seem to enjoy it here," Anna said softly.

Rebecca’s smile faltered for a moment as she looked down at her soggy diaper, then back up at Anna. "Well... I heard that if I'm a good little girl and don't put up a fuss, they might let me grow back up before the next... matur... matuwity... test," she said, struggling with the word.

Anna’s eyes widened slightly. “Maturity test?”

Rebecca nodded, a proud smile spreading across her face. “Uh-huh! If I’m a good girl and don’t make a fuss, maybe when it’s time for the test again, I can grow back up!”

Anna’s heart ached a little as she listened. It was clear that Rebecca had latched onto the idea, hoping that by being the perfect little toddler, she might get a chance to return to her previous life. Anna wasn’t sure if that was really how it worked, but she didn’t want to burst Rebecca’s bubble.

“That’s a good plan, Becky,” Anna said softly, pulling her friend into a gentle hug. “You’re doing great.”

Rebecca beamed up at her, the simple praise enough to make her day.

[city-of-ladies]

"In the seventeenth century the words ‘a brave woman’ were more and more frequently used in sermons with reference to women who were constant in their faith, practising such virtues as modesty, devotion to the family and thrift – women who were bringing up a large progeny well. But in the social mentality these words had a broader meaning. They were associated with the type of woman who appeared at the end of the sixteenth century, particularly in the south-eastern territories of the country endangered by the incursions of the Turks and Tartars. It was a type of courageous Amazon who could mount a horse and wield a sword no less competently than a man – a woman who could defend her own and her family’s interests and fight an enemy not with women’s, but with men’s, weapons. This Polish virago had her counterparts in Western Europe. The femme forte was glorified in France in the seventeenth century, the mujer varonil was lauded in Spain; the virago became the heroine of countless dramas and poems.

Mannish women in Poland had many opportunities to display their talents. The most famous among them was Marina, the daughter of Polish magnate, Jerzy Mniszech. In 1605 she married Dimitr, the alleged son of Tsar Ivan the Terrible, and in 1609 was crowned in Moscow. After Dimitri was murdered, she married the second impostor and, when the latter also died, she tried to keep the throne for herself. Beautiful and greedy for power, Marina ended her stormy life in a prison and soon became the heroine of numerous legends and poems. The period of Russian civil war enabled her – a woman with a dominant personality and great imagination – to surpass the passive role accorded to women in general.

Life in the eastern and southern borderlands of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth offered many opportunities for women to display their energy and courage. A legend about an energetic bride, Beata Dolska, relates how, on her wedding day in 1577, she saved her native town of Dubno from a Tartar attack. Told about the enemy, the courageous bride rushed on to the ramparts, loaded a cannon and fired a shot which hit the tent of the Khan himself. As a result, the Tartars lifted the siege.

Another famous ‘borderlands’ lioness’, Mrs Teofila Chmielecka, fought bravely at her husband’s side against the Tartars in the 1620s. Unfortunately, she was also a notorious organizer of forays against her neighbours and an extremely cruel mistress: she mutilated one of her servants, a certain Anna Walicka, by cutting off her nose. When her son fell in love with a beautiful girl whose father refused to agree to the marriage, she abducted the girl and arranged the marriage by force. Another lady, Anna Dorota Chrzanowska, wife of the commander of Trembowla castle, roused the defenders of the fortress to action during the siege in 1675 and personally led them in sallies against the Turks; she threatened the soldiers that she would blow up the fortress if they capitulated. In the Ukraine some women took up arms during the Chmielnicki uprising. During the Swedish invasion many women all over the country took part in the war activities.

In times of peace, too, women surpassed their official female roles and, in this respect, we have already mentioned the battles organized by Mrs Chmielecka. In addition, W. Łoziński’s book presents many Polish women engaged in military actions. Forays and armed attacks led by females were by no means a rare occurrence, especially in the borderlands. A. Gradowska has recently come across an interesting example of a fierce family quarrel in the eighteenth century: Mr Kazimierz Drohojowski sued his aunt, Mrs Antonina Księska née Drohojowska, for the sums bequeathed on his village, Bestwinka. The trial continued for 30 years. In the end, the aunt administered justice herself, organizing an attack on her nephew’s house. Drohojowski was shot during the fighting and died from his wounds."

Maria Bogucka, Women in Early Modern Polish Society, Against the European Background

[dark-l-angel]

can i request for a olderbat!damian wayne x reader whose his controversial young wife :3

feel free to ignore if not comfy for ya😚

Sorry for the title 😕 pls help me in the comments 🙏🏻 😭

I couldn't find a title

Olderbat!Damian wayne x controversial young wife!reader

The Batcave was unusually quiet that evening, save for the soft hum of monitors and the occasional shuffle of papers. Damian Wayne, now in his late thirties and fully embodying the mantle of Batman, stood at the central console, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the night's surveillance footage.

The Batcomputer blinked with updates from across Gotham, detailing the latest criminal activities and potential threats. It was a routine night in the eternal battle against crime, yet Damian's thoughts drifted, uncharacteristically distracted.

A soft rustle behind him broke the silence, and Damian turned to find (Y/N) leaning against the Batmobile, a playful smile gracing her features. She was a stark contrast to Gotham's darkness—youthful and vibrant, her presence a beacon of light in the cavernous depths of the Batcave.

"You're up late," she remarked, her voice echoing softly in the cavern. "Anything I can do to help?"

Damian's gaze softened as he took in the sight of his controversial wife. (Y/N) had been a whirlwind in his life—a breath of fresh air amidst the shadows that had long defined him. Her free-spirited nature and unwavering optimism had challenged him in ways he never expected, yet he found himself drawn to her energy like a moth to a flame.

"I could use your perspective on this," Damian admitted, gesturing towards the array of screens displaying Gotham's ongoing turmoil. "There's been an increase in gang activity near the docks. It's unusual for this time of year."

(Y/N) stepped closer, her eyes scanning the data with a keen interest. "Maybe they're planning something big," she mused, her mind already racing with possibilities. "What if they're using the docks to smuggle in weapons or drugs?"

Damian nodded, impressed by her quick grasp of the situation. Together, they delved into analyzing the patterns and potential motives behind the criminal surge, their minds synchronizing in a way that spoke volumes about their partnership—both in crime-fighting and in life.

As they worked, Damian couldn't help but reflect on the journey that had led them to this moment. Their relationship had sparked controversy and raised eyebrows among Gotham's elite, who couldn't fathom why someone like Damian Wayne would choose a partner so different from the expected mold.

But to Damian, (Y/N) was everything he never knew he needed. Her optimism tempered his cynicism, her boldness challenged his cautious nature, and her unwavering support anchored him in the storm of Gotham's relentless challenges.

They had met unexpectedly at a charity gala, where (Y/N)'s sharp wit and unyielding compassion had captivated Damian's attention. Despite their age gap and the world's scrutiny, they found solace in each other's company—a refuge from the expectations and demands of their respective roles.

And now, as they stood side by side in the heart of the Batcave, Damian felt a surge of gratitude for the woman who had reshaped his world. (Y/N) had not only accepted the darkness that defined his nights but had embraced it with a courage and determination that mirrored his own.

"You know," (Y/N) spoke up after a moment of shared silence, her voice gentle yet filled with conviction, "they'll never understand us, Damian. But that's okay. We didn't choose the easy path, but we chose each other."

Damian turned to her, his heart swelling with a love that defied expectations and surpassed words. Without hesitation, he reached out, pulling (Y/N) into a tender embrace—the kind that spoke of a lifetime of battles fought and victories won together.

In the quiet of the Batcave, surrounded by the echoes of Gotham's chaos, Damian Wayne and (Y/N) found peace in each other's arms—a love that defied the darkness and illuminated their path forward, together.

And as they stood, united against the night's endless shadows, Damian knew with unwavering certainty that with (Y/N) by his side, he was stronger than ever—a Dark Knight who had found his light in the heart of Gotham's perpetual storm.

☆ I hope you like it ☆

[yuamusuzuran]

The Dragon & the Foreseer who loved him - pt.8

Pairing: Sylus x Zayne/ SnowCrow

Chp word count: 2573

MINORS DNI/ EXPLICIT AND MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!

Chapter tags: blood, gore, violence, major character death, despair, injury, Sylus POV

Previous chapters: CHP1, CHP2, CHP3, CHP4, CHP5, CHP6, CHP7

If you wish to become a part of the tag list, refer here!

Click HERE to read on AO3!

ENJOY!

Chapter 8 - No matter how, where or when...

It has been a while since the dragon had seen so many humans descend into his domain.

A never-ending stream of bodies moving around in a formation, resembling little ants that are only good for executing their orders.

Sylus was confident the volcanic land will decimate their forces and their resolve… but he couldn’t take any chances or make compromises.

Not when Zayne’s life was on the line.

Not when a malicious god was out for them.

With a smirk, the dragon curled up into a ball whilst his wings flapped violently, keeping him in the air. Focusing all of his energy into a crystal in the middle of his chest, Sylus allowed his true power to consume him.

A loud, beastly shriek echoed the valley, shaking very mountains above the army’s head as their terrified eyes looked towards the smoky, red sky.

And there, flew a dragon, so massive it could probably swallow the entire capital of Philos. Its wings had covered the sky and the faint shine of the moon far above, the black scales glistening against the light of an erupting volcano.

In an instant, Sylus could see the terror in those soldiers’ eyes, their weapons and shields trembling alongside their small hands.

It has been over five hundred years since he had used this form… and the feeling was marvelous.

But, he couldn’t hold on for much longer, this very transformation taking up majority of his magical force.

And yet, considering the reek of fear that had enveloped the sandy valley, the dragon believed his victory shall be quick and so very sweet.

With yet another horrifying roar, the dragon dropped, opening its massive jaws as the flames ignited inside his throat. The familiar burning of his stomach and mouth was thrilling, nostalgic, and when the first beam of fire struck the largest battalion of soldiers below, the sensation became even sweeter.

As the shrieks of horror and pain spread across the valley, Sylus flapped his gigantic wings to reach the highest mountain peak, yet another beastly shrill shaking the valley where the people continued to die.

From his high perch, the dragon observed the panic and desperation this small human army instantly displayed, an urge to chuckle tickling at his throat.

But… he couldn’t leave any of them alive.

Even if Zayne started hating him… even if he wished to break their bond… it was alright.

He was a beast, only capable of killing those that stand in his way.

Whether it was for the right or wrong cause, he didn’t know.

All he knew is that, once this army was decimated, at least Philos will leave Zayne alone.

And Astra… not even his godhood will save him from the dragon’s wrath.

Observing the commotions in the valley for a moment longer, Sylus had decided on where to strike next: there, at the far distance, a small battalion of soldiers had entered the ravine that led even deeper into his territory, right towards the valley of pink daturas…

They have just signed their own death sentence.

As loud shriek resonated through the air; the dragon flapped its wings and leapt into the air, promptly reaching the spot where those sneaky soldiers have entered.

With another tingle of heat rising in his throat, Sylus demolished them all, the flames swallowing not only their bodies, but their shrieks as well.

All of this was too simple… but there was still more humans incoming.

As the mild annoyance slowly overtook him, the dragon used his massive claws to climb out of the ravine, his eyes once again overseeing the desperate regrouping of scattered soldiers, their small bodies trying to hopelessly find any kind of shelter whilst their whimsy shields offered the only small amount of protection.

Two more times… that was all it will take.

And whoever was left, he will crush them-

A sharp and agonizing pain had pierced the dragon’s torso from above, causing its shriek become higher and lamenting.

Raising his head and instinctively trying to get out of the way, Sylus only then became aware of the distant rumbling that echoed across the sky.

Royal flying ships… same ones used to capture him five centuries ago.

Sylus roared once more, this time with more anger and vigor, tugging at the massive spear that had momentarily nailed him to the ground. The pain was almost unbearable, but if he remained in the same position, he’d definitely get struck again.

Another wave of anger washed over him, giving the dragon just enough strength to pull the spear out of the ground and fly across the valley, the cold steel still stuck in his left side. The pain the metal had caused him was more than familiar, the itch being something he had to live with whilst in the dungeon for the past five hundred years…

Bastards must have melted my restraints to make these…

He could feel his blood seeping from a gaping wound, making it more difficult for his wings to move and even be used for gliding. And, alongside his blood, his magical power was slowly leaving him.

He will most certainly die that day… those ships surely had more of these massive spears.

But… those ships were coming down with him.

In a moment of pure anger overtaking his being, Sylus roared the loudest his throat would allow him and flapped upwards, his body flying through the air at unimaginable speed.

Despite the pain, the dragon reached out with both of his hands, squeezing onto the balloon that kept one of the ships in the air and popped it, casting only a small spark of fire to make the whole vehicle go up in inferno.

The spear lodged into his torso had fallen off from the strength of the explosion, the now gaping hole in his abdomen making the dragon cry out in pain.

But he couldn’t stop now… only three more ships, and it will be done-

The thought didn’t even properly manifest in his mind before yet another massive spear got shot at him, making a massive hole in one of his precious wings.

The shriek the dragon had let out was desperate, hurtful, its body promptly descending towards the ground.

No matter how much he tried to make it work, Sylus had momentarily lost a wing.

The landing was hard, ground-shaking and painful, leaving the dragon barely able to turn his head to the side.

The tiny soldiers he had observed from his high mountains and volcanoes were now closing in on him, their spears, swords and arrows tearing into him like hundreds of tiny needles.

He could feel the wound on his wing slowly closing up, but not nearly as quickly as he liked, the ropes promptly being thrown over him to prevent him from moving.

He could hear the soldiers yell orders at each other, but none of it mattered to Sylus. He already knew how this tragic story would end.

He will probably be captured… or die during the transportation.

The power in his body had finally reached its limit, the dragon already feeling his form changing as his blood continued to seep-

In a single instant, a massive wall of ice enclosed him, creating a circular roof over the dragon’s head and trapping the soldiers closest to him in the unmovable prison of ice.

Sylus gasped, his hybrid form regained and allowing him to move around more. But, even though this wall had offered him a temporary protection, the implication of the ice protecting him could only conclude in one terrifying thing.

Zayne was here… in the middle of a battlefield he had sworn to not bring close to him.

“Zayne!?” Sylus called out, the pain preventing him from moving and yelling more.

His ears were buzzing, the panic slowly settling into his very soul, and once Zayne’s voice reached his ears, Sylus believed he’d lose his mind:

“Isn’t that the Foreseer!?”

“The one who has been captured by a dragon!?”

“Sir, why are you protecting him!?”

“Has the dragon enchanted you!?” the soldiers kept questioning him, every query more hysterical than the last.

But Zayne’s voice was calm, measured, as if he was speaking to the very subject he was supposed to serve:

“I could tell you the truth… but none of you would believe me. Because, in your eyes, this dragon is a vicious beast”

“He had killed hundreds of ours-”

“After humans have kept him as a blood slave for centuries” Zayne retorted, his voice slightly higher and with more edge “And I know you are not here on the orders of your king, but the very priests in whose ranks I had studied. The king would never have sent you to such a suicidal mission”

The soldiers started talking over each other, causing a cacophony, Sylus growling inside his cold cage as his wing finally managed to completely close up the wound. The pain was still present, but at least he could now use it to fly-

“You are all being manipulated by Astra…” Zayne announced only for the screams of soldiers to follow.

Sylus froze on the spot, the sound of even more ice emerging from the ground making him realize what Zayne was actually doing.

No….

“And if you wish to take this dragon back, you will have to pass through me first”

Even more screaming followed, drawing of weapons and clinking of shields making Sylus promptly stand up and channel all remnants of his power to break the icy prison he was put in for his own protection.

Zayne, no… No!

“Get him!” someone yelled “The Foreseer has been corrupted by a dragon!”

“Nonsense!” Zayne yelled back “I’m doing this of my own volition! And none of you are strong enough to stop-”

Zayne’s speech was abruptly stopped, a gurgling sound causing Sylus’ stomach to drop.

The realization had struck him like a thunder, the vortex of rage, desperation and anger causing his throat to produce yet another scream.

The vibrations became so strong they had shattered the ice into thousand pieces, his massive dragon form manifesting once again as he had laid his eyes upon the scene in front of him.

Surrounded by a dozen soldiers, Zayne was down on a single knee, his back turned to Sylus. The bottom part of his robe that was usually snowy white was now drenched in dark red liquid, three arrow tails clearly sticking out of his chest.

With another desperate roar, the dragon stepped forward, crushing any soldier unlucky enough to be in his path.

His vision blurry and barely focused, the dragon managed to get a hold of Zayne, making sure his claws weren’t squeezing him too hard before his pained wings raised them towards the red sky.

Why would you do this, Zayne!?

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Sylus reached the cathedral just in time, his dragon form unable to hold on any longer and making him collapse in front of the main entrance.

And yet, despite the immense pain and massive scale of his own injuries, the dragon had never let go of Zayne, the Foreseer now nestled gently in his embrace.

“Zayne!?” Sylus whisper-yelled, reaching down at his still-gaping wound in hopes to catch a few drops of his own blood.

He tried to smear it across the Foreseer’s lips, tried to force a couple of drops down his throat… but all Zayne managed to do was open his eyes and cough out immense amounts of blood.

His own blood.

“You’re… alright…” Zayne mumbled, his pale chin completely covered in blood as his lips stretched into a faint smile.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be alright…” Sylus comforted, his clawed hand gently cupping the Foreseer’s face “You need to take some of my blood now, alright? Please…”

Zayne’s smile had spread out even more, his green eyes becoming glassy “I’ll… try…”

The dragon reached up towards his own chest, producing a massive gash before bringing Zayne’s mouth closer, making sure arrows weren’t pushed deeper inside him for the time being.

But despite his best efforts, Zayne was unable to even hold down a single gulp, each and every attempt soon becoming ejected through strenuous, painful coughing fit.

“Zayne-” Sylus called out desperately, prepared to bite his own tongue off if it meant he’d manage to save him-

But the Foreseer’s strong grip on his upper arm caused the dragon to look down, his breath shaking.

“I’m sorry…” Zayne mumbled, his eyes barely open “I had… to do it… or else… Astra… he’d… he’d-”

“Don’t talk, sweetheart…” Sylus murmured, his own vision becoming blurry as he connected their foreheads “Just focus on me now, alright? I’m with you…”

Zayne nodded weakly, his breaths becoming more labored and hoarse as the moments passed.

“Why would you do this for me, Zayne?” Sylus spoke with his eyes closed, feeling two warm tears falling down his nose “Even if I was captured, I’d still-”

“Astra… would make sure… you are…” another coughing fit interrupted Zayne, his eyes squeezing and tearing up “Dead… and… I can’t just… let the one… I love… die because of… me…”

Sylus’ head shot up, all air leaving his lungs as if someone had punched him.

Zayne’s smile remained on his pale face, his eyes fluttering open one more time.

“I hope… I will get a chance… to see you… again…”

The dragon pulled him closer, both of his clawed hands gently digging into the Foreseer’s body “Whatever it takes… for however long… I’ll always find you, sweetheart… no matter how, where or when… I’ll find you”

Zayne let out a faint, hoarse chuckle, the hand that was gripping onto Sylus’ arm now barley reaching the dragon’s face. Sylus assisted him, raising one of his hands to put Zayne’s cold hand against his cheek.

“Thank…you…” the man mumbled, his words barely a whisper “For making me… so happy… and… alive…”

And with that blissful smile on his lips, Zayne had taken his final breath.

Sylus could feel the weight of his body in his hands, the panic and despair quickly setting in as he bargained with the heaven, destiny, whoever was at fault for this incredible hurt.

The dragon wept for what seemed like days, the last remnant of his once joyful heart shattered into pieces…

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After the loss of his beloved, the dragon had decided to settle the scores with the Heavens themselves, looking to take the life of the very god that caused his demise.

As the anger consumed him and left him with no regard for his own life, the dragon had fought a grueling battle… only to be struck by a heavenly spear and dropped down onto the Earth, to his own death.

And yet, the dragon had no regrets, hopeful that he’ll soon get another chance to be with his beloved… but Astra, being ever so benevolent, wasn’t going to allow it.

Thus, he had cursed the two souls:

The dragon shall look for his beloved in every life, but will always die right before he would be able to reunite with him.

And the Foreseer, who had longed for a peaceful and ordinary life, will not remember his beloved dragon at all… that is, until he encounters his dead corpse.

The curse was to last until the end of time… and yet, the foolish god never counted on the destiny having interesting plans for him, too…

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Linkon City, 2055…

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Read newest chapter HERE!

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I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL SAD, BUT 'TIS HOW IT IS!

I'll update again on June 1st, I know it's a long wait especially after this much hurt and angst, but I promise it'll be a worthy wait ;D

PEACE, LOVE AND BYE-BYE

(Sorry again for making you sad :( )

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: I changed the name of Enhypen's pack to Enha instead of I-land...feel like it fits better :) sorry for any confusion :/

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: explicit language, fluff, SMUT 18+ MDNI, reader x skz (wonder who it will be), mentions of abuse/sexual assault, hint of Samsung phones (since skz supports? it and can't touch iPhones lol sorry apple users...I was you a few months ago), thigh riding, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls!), oral, fingering, creampie, aftercare🫠😖

WC: 4681

Chapter 15

Chan managed to actually get some proper rest since he had been inside this cell. The letters of his loved ones and the delicious meal the lawyer provided gave some peace to his anxiety. He slept nearly eight hours before waking up. He was hungry of course, but the food on his plate was cold by now. Not that it looked edible anyways.

He got up, using the restroom as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a bit of a mess but the bags under his eyes weren’t as severe. He washed his hands, craving a shower. 

He took some water to his hair to fix it up as best he could. Then he stretched, ready to start his workout routine for the day. He did his routine of push ups and sit ups, as he’s done the whole time. He had extra nervous energy pent up today as he anticipated the next trial. 

It was a few more hours before a security guard finally arrived. He took Chan to a bathroom where Seojoon was waiting. 

“Good to see you. We have thirty minutes. I insisted you get a chance to freshen up before the trial. I also bought you a suit. So shower quickly.”

“Thank you!” Chan said, hurrying to shower. It had been days and he couldn’t wait to finally feel clean.

Thirty minutes later, Chan was dressed in a suit, ready to face the judges and jury. Seojoon escorted him, standing next to him at the desk. The judges entered, everyone standing. 

“You may be seated.” the main judge said, waving dismissively. ”Alright. We are here to discuss case number 2018325 with Defendant Christopher Bang.”

“You honor, Attorney Park Seojoon. If I may begin.” Seojoon spoke.

“Go ahead, Counsel. Lay a foundation.”

“My client is an exemplary citizen. What happened with his younger brother is a tragedy he’s had to carry his whole life. He’s been judged harshly, blamed for his death and forced to have to relive this day over and over again. It is not fair for him to have to spend his life with this burden, as opposed to grieving and moving on to a healing place. He has a pack of his own, people who are devoted to him and would vouch for his character. 

“No one is born a murderer. Of those who have killed, some of them have done it in dire circumstances. That circumstance usually being ‘it’s me or you’. And this is exactly what he had to face. In order to save himself he had to kill two fellow hybrids. These hybrids were, however, of poor character.”

“Objection! We aren’t here to discuss his victims' character.” It was Griffin Blake again.

“Overruled.” the judge to the right spoke. “Counsel…proceed.”

Griffin rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, your honor.” Seojoon bowed slightly. “Hayes and Milo Carver were part of the Nyko pack, under the rule of Alpha Lewis. They were brothers and, with Lewis’s permission, they abused, sexually assaulted, and neglected three omegas in their care. The omegas were falsely led to believe they were each Lewis’s soulmate and marked by him. They were kept in horrible conditions in the basement of his home with limited access to food and water. They spent their whole time down there, unless being used for the sexual pleasure of the pack or their guests.”

Indistinct chatter was heard from the jury as they processed this new information.

“I have pictures for evidence for the jury, if I may.” Seojoon added.

“Objection! These were not submitted beforehand.” Griffin stood abruptly.

“I’ll allow them.” the main judge said.

Seojoon motioned for the tech to display the photos on the project screen. Gasps were heard across the courtroom as the pictures were clicked through.

“This was what the cell the omegas were held in looked like. Mind you it smelled of piss and mildew down there. And this is the torture room, where they were abused or forced to participate in activities chosen by the alphas or betas.”

“Thank you.” the judge on the left said.

“Objection! Relevance?” Griffin said.

“Sustained. Counsel?” the judge on the left gestured to Seojoon.

“The relevance is that one of those omegas, on a night of being hunted by the two victims, was found unconscious on the Greenridge territory. Mr. Bang’s pack took her in, calling their doctor to come tend to her. It was then, Chan found her to be soulmates to his entire pack.”

“Objection! Everyone knows omegas have one soulmate. Only alphas can have multiple.”

“Overruled. There are rare cases of an omega having multiple. It’s not unheard of.” The judge on the right informed.

Griffin plopped down in his seat with a huff, running his fingers through his hair.

“Mr. Bang and his pack have found their soulmate, and tended to her. She was underweight, malnourished, and skittish. They earned her trust, and she eventually opened up, confessing what her scars hinted at.”

Chan was impressed. Seojoon was a natural with the jury. He was easily winning them over. Where did Minho find this guy?

“This man is not a cold-blooded killer. He’s a pack man. He takes pride and thrives off of caring and protecting others. He wouldn’t kill unless it was the last option. And even then he wouldn’t enjoy it. He is not the man to kill his own brother.”

The jury mumbled away with each other, the judges writing notes down. 

“Mr. Blake, do you have anything to add?”

“No, your honor.”

“Very well. We will take time to debrief. Let the jury come to a decision. Once that is done, we will be back.” the main judge announced.

“Y/n!” Hyunjin called from the living room. 

You were in your room, cozy in your reading corner when you heard him. You marked your page and hurried to the banister overlooking the living room.

“Hey, come down here. We have something for you.” Hyunjin smiled.

Excited, you hurry down the steps, coming into the living room and sitting on the couch. Everyone is sitting around, eagerly waiting for the reveal.

“So, me and Jisung went on a little errand today. And we got you something.” Hyunjin smirked.

“What is it?” you asked, impatient.

Hyunjin revealed his hand that was hiding behind his back. He held it out to you, holding a cell phone. Your eyes go wide.

“We thought it was probably best if you had a cell phone. In case we ever need to reach each other.” Minho explained. 

Very smart. You lost track of the amount of times you wished you could have called them the past week.

“Me and Felix have the same one.” Changbin smiled.

“Hopefully you like the case. We thought those SKZOO characters from that band were cute.”

“They are really cute.” you say, still stunned as you flipped the phone over and saw the adorable case.

“We can teach you how to use it, of course.” Changbin adds.

“And Channie hyung’s cards are on there so if you need to buy anything.” Jeongin says, giddy.

Minho hits him in the back of the head.

“Don’t go spending crazy.” Minho cautions you.

“I wouldn’t even know what to buy.” you say.

“All our numbers are in there so you can just tap it to call.” Felix informed, demonstrating with his name.

You spend the rest of the afternoon learning your phone with the help of the boys. You download some games, set up a password and facial recognition, and even find fun themes for your wallpaper and app icons. It was so exciting. You had seen the boys on theirs but never thought you would have one of your own. 

Minho was back in the kitchen for dinner, fixing food for everyone with the help of Felix. You had never been so excited for dinner, coming into the kitchen and watching eagerly. Minho smiled at you, finding you adorable. He wasn’t as cold with you, but he still kept his distance. Seeing you in the med bed downstairs and knowing he put you there still left him with an uneasy feeling.

When dinner was finally ready, everyone fixed their plates and sat down at the table. It felt almost…normal. You just wished Chan was here and all the drama was over.

“Minho, did you hear from the lawyer today?”

“Oh. I did. He’s hopeful he swayed the jury. He gave a story, pulling on the heart strings. Hopefully Chan will get sympathy votes and come home to us.” Minho announced.

“So we could have Chan back tomorrow?” Jisung asked.

Minho nodded with a shrug. “It looks like it.”

“We should go. Be there for the trial.” you suggested. 

“Yes. Can we go?” Felix asked.

“We just got back. Let’s wait and see if he is going to come home first.” Minho suggested.

“But if we aren’t there, he will have to wait six hours for us to get there.” Jisung pouted.

“Better than another day in solitary.” Minho noted. “Let’s get the trial results first.”

The rest of dinner was quiet, everyone worried for the results of the trial tomorrow. Once everyone finished, Jisung and Hyunjin emptied the dishwasher and reloaded it, cleaning up the kitchen before going to their rooms for the night.

Jisung and Felix were video gaming in Jisung’s room while Minho and Changbin were doing some work in Chan’s office. Hyunjin was sketching in his room, lofi music playing. Jeongin was getting in the shower before bed. And Seungmin was in his room, playing a game on his phone as he tried to convince himself to go for a shower.

“Hey Seungmin, can you help me with my phone?” you ask, knocking on his door.

“What do you need help with?” Seungmin asked, laying across his bed.

“I was wanting to save music and make a playlist on Spotify."

“Oh here let me show you.” Seungmin sat up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

 You sat next to him and he showed you how to do it. You added a few songs you had heard the boys playing around the house. Seungmin added a few others he thought you would like before handing you back your phone. Your fingertips brushed as you took the phone, his gaze lingering on your lips.

Before he could stop himself, he kissed you. It was purposeful, his mouth moving with yours perfectly. You melted into his touch, one of his hands coming to cup your face as he kissed you. You pushed more into the kiss, as if starved for it, and he responded by guiding you onto your back. His lips never left yours in the process, his body now hovering over yours.

“This okay?” he looked down at you.

You nodded, leaning up to reconnect your lips to his. Your hands trailed down his torso, finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. He let you, helping remove it.

“You sure?” he asked, looking into your eyes.

“Just don’t go feral on me.” you chuckle.

“I’ll try not to.” he laughs.

He kisses you with more fervor, his body pressing into yours shamelessly. Your own body reacting to his touch, you could feel the heat centering at your core. 

Seungmin’s hand trailed down your side, slipping under your shirt and cupping your breast. He found your bra snap in the front and unhooked it. He pushed open your bra and began teasing your nipples. You back arched off the bed, a small moan escaping your mouth.

He smirked at how easily you reacted. “I barely touched you baby? I bet you're already wet for me.”

You roll your eyes, playfully pushing him.. “Shut up…” 

He grabbed your hands, pinning them by your head. He smirked at you, leaning into your neck and kissing you. You moan as he nipped at your skin, instinctively grinding your hips on his thigh. He moved to take off your shirt and bra, then slid your pants off. You were left laying there in just your panties as he looked down at you.

“I like these…” he tugged a little on the pale pink bikini bottoms you were wearing. 

You blushed, knowing he could see the wet spot on them.

He moved off the bed, ridding himself of his pants. Then he sat down on the bed, pulling you over to him. You climbed onto his lap, straddling one of his legs. His hands were on your hips as you kissed him, breasts flush with his chest.

You moved your hips slightly, a slight shiver going up your spine from the friction.

“That’s it…move those hips for me.” Seungmin whispered between kisses down your neck. 

His hands started to guide your hips, rocking you on his leg. It felt so good you began to moan in his ear. Your hips began to move at their own rhythm as you rode his thigh. He smirked at how sensitive you were, nipping at your collar bone before attaching his lips to your nipple. You threw your head back, hands holding onto his shoulders as you rocked back and forth.

“You gonna cum on my leg like a good girl?” Seungmin whispered.

“Yes..” you breathed out.

“How long have you been thinking about this, huh? I bet you’ve been dying for me to make you feel good.” Seungmin taunts. 

You bite your lip, blush creeping on your cheeks. His teasing was making your pussy wetter somehow and you weren’t used to it. You clenched around nothing, growing frustrated by the emptiness.

“Seungmin…” you whined.

“What baby?”

You whimpered in response, unable to say the words.

“Is my baby close?” Seungmin asks with a flex of his thigh, making it firmer between your legs. 

The delicious friction between his leg and your panties made you moan louder - made you rock your hips faster. You looked at him, a huge smirk plastered on his face as he watched you come undone. You made eye contact with him, feeling the coil inside about to snap.

“Cum on me. Make a mess on my thigh baby.” Seungmin coaxed, pinching one of your nipples.

“Ahhh..” you moan, gripping his shoulders tighter as you cum undone. Juices drip from your center as your orgasm washes over you. 

Seungmin kisses you, pulling your body flush with his. “Good Girl.”

You groan, hiding your face in his chest. He lifts you, putting you on your back and removing your soaked panties. He leans down, licking through your folds.

“Mmm…sweet…as I suspected.” Seungmin looks up at you from between your legs. It was so sinful, but you loved it.

You bite your lip, hiding your face.

Seungmin slips off his underwear before hovering over you. He moves your hands from your face and you lock eyes. 

“Let me see that pretty face,” Seungmin smiles, peppering your face with kisses. “I can’t wait to see you all fucked out after this…” 

You swat at his chest, whining and bucking your hips. “Seungmin…”

“So needy…” Seungmin smirks. “You’re like Jisung…”

Looking between your bodies, Seungmin lines himself up with your entrance. He looks up at you one last time, as if asking for permission. You nod and he pushes in slowly. His girth stretches you out and makes your eyes shut.

You moan as he bottoms out, holding onto his forearms. He slides out slowly, only to push back in. He does this teasingly slow move a few times before he can’t take it anymore. His tempo picks up and you chant his name.

“Y/n…you’re so tight.” his face scrunches as he thrusts into you.

“Seungmin…mmm you feel so good.” You lean up, connecting your lips.

You feel yourself on the verge of cumming once more, clenching around his length. He hisses as you do, slowing his movements.

“Please…don’t stop…”you moan.

Seungmin keeps his tempo, bringing you to climax. 

“Ahh,” you moan loudly.

Seungmin was quick to cover your mouth, chuckling. “You don’t want the boys hearing, do you? They might get jealous.” 

Your body trembled, mind barely understanding what he said. His hand caressed your cheek as he slowed. You came down from your high, catching your breath as you relaxed your grip on his arms.

Seungmin pulled out, laying down next to you. “Get on top.” 

You hesitate but do as he says. He tells you to face away from him, leaning on his legs for support.

“I want you to ride me, baby. You’re in control now.”

You never did this position before but you were curious. Your old pack never gave you controlling positions, they always dominated you instead. Not that you wanted control…or to be involved at all.

You straddled his hips, lining up his cock and sinking down on it. He felt deeper like this as you braced yourself on his legs. Slowly you began to rock back and forth, finding your momentum. Within a few seconds, you were moving faster.

Meanwhile, Seungmin was enjoying the view. He was always sneaking looks at your ass and now it was naked, on display right in front of him. He reached out, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks. As he fondled your ass, you began to do more of a bounce motion. He threw his head back, getting lost in the way you were riding him. It was too good and he didn’t know how much longer he would last.

You were close too, this angle hitting your sweet spot just right. Your grip on his legs tightened, your pussy clenching around his length. He could tell you were close too. He wanted to hold out, but the way you were clenching him was intoxicating.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” he rasped out.

You grinded down, rolling your hips on him. He gripped your hips tightly, trying to hold back as best he could. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as he focused on not cumming.

Your orgasm hit you hard, making your legs shake and squeeze Seungmin’s hips. Your body jerked a bit as you rode out your high, eyes rolled back. You pussy clenched impossibly tighter around Seungmin and he lost all resolve. His cock twitched, filling you with his cum. He let out a guttural groan, his hips bucking.

As you came down, you both were moaning and panting as you tried to catch your breaths. Seungmin sat up, hugging you from behind and kissing your back. He then maneuvered you two so that you both were laying on your sides. He even managed to do so without slipping out.

As you laid there, he kissed up and down your shoulder and neck. You hummed in satisfaction, feeling yourself falling asleep. 

“That was amazing,” he whispered. 

You nodded, turning your head. He kissed your lips as he slowly slid out of your warmth. You whined at the loss but he peppered your face with kisses. Your body slowly laid back and Seungmin hovered over you. He kissed down your torso, teasing your nipples before moving down. He reached your core, licking at your sensitive folds. 

You squirmed, but he locked in your clit, sucking and teasing. Your legs tried to close but he pinned them open, leaving you to gasp at the euphoric feeling.

“Minnie…” you moan.

He doesn’t let up. He’s determined to make you cum at least once more. His expert tongue works magic on your clit, making you build to a climax in record time. It felt so good but you tried to hold back and enjoy the moment. That’s when he added a finger, curling it just right. How did he know your body so well? 

Your orgasm finally washed over you, making your toes curl, back arch, and legs shake. He pushed you, prolonging your high with his finger until you were squirming to get away. When he finally stopped, your whole body went lax. Your muscles ached and you could barely open your eyes. 

“Look at you…” Seungmin was pleased with himself. He had you looking just how he wanted - properly fucked out and on cloud nine.

“I’ll be right back.” With one final kiss to your forehead, Seungmin rose from the bed. 

You laid there, feeling a little wetness dripping out. Nearly asleep, you didn’t hear him return from his bathroom. Seungmin carefully took the washcloth and began cleaning you. You squirmed a little, sensitive from all the stimulation. He was careful and considerate, cleaning you up so gently.

Once he was done, he closed your legs and covered you with his comforter. Then he went to shower like he originally planned. He didn’t take long, relaxed after your time together and wanting to hurry back to you. 

When he was done, he climbed in bed behind you and kissed your temple. You snuggled into him despite being fast asleep. Tomorrow you would probably be sore, but it will be worth it. 

Morning came and you woke up to the slight snores of your soulmate sleeping next to you. Last night’s events came back to you in a rush, leaving you flushed and craving more. You rolled over to see him sprawled out on his side of the bed. You smile, amused. Carefully you slip out of the bed and find your clothes. Your legs were a little shaky as you moved about his room, slipping on your pants and shirt and grabbing your bra and panties. You quietly open the door and hurry out, closing it softly. Then you go across the hall to your room. You shut your door and strip, putting your clothes in the hamper. Then you go for a shower, the warm water soothing your aching muscles.

After your shower, you head downstairs, finding Felix and Jisung in the kitchen finishing up breakfast.

“Need help?” you ask.

“No. We’re almost done.” Felix smiles.

Jisung walks by you, puckering his lips at you casually. He leans in for a kiss so you lean towards him. He swerves away from you, leaving you stunned. He quickly approaches from the opposite side, pecking your cheek. You glare at him while Felix giggles. How long was he going to tease you for?

You were chatting at the island when everyone started to come into the kitchen. Breakfast was finally ready and you were starving. You loaded your plate, making everyone stare in shock. Seungmin smirked, knowing he probably worked up your appetite. Then you all sat down and began eating.

“Did last night’s escapades leave you hungry?” Changbin whispered, leaning over to you.

You were drinking juice at the time, and nearly choked on it. You coughed, trying to collect yourself from the sudden embarrassment. Your face was beet red as Seungmin gave you a knowing look.

“You okay?” Minho asked.

Everyone was looking at you.

“Yeah.” you clear your throat. “Just fine.”

“More than fine, I’m sure.” Jeongin commented. 

You stare at him with a furrowed brow.

“You think we didn’t hear you two last night?” Jeongin shakes his head.

You want to sink from the table and crawl up to your room. It was suddenly very hot in here and you were losing your appetite.

“Relax, we’re just messing with you.” Changbin nudged your arm.

“I know.” You knew. You were just caught off guard and embarrassed. 

You make yourself resume eating, quiet for the rest of breakfast. You offered to clean the kitchen, hurrying away from the table as soon as you had finished. As everyone else finished eating, they would give you their plates. Jisung offered to help, washing dishes with you.

Once it was just you two left in the room, Jisung spoke up.

“I’m glad you were enjoying yourself…”

You don’t say anything.

“Seungmin was worried about his turn. Hopefully now he can relax.”

“Worried?”

“He was afraid we would…outperform him.” Jisung rolled his eyes. “At least with you. But we’ve all been with each other so we knew he would be fine.”

“He was more than fine.” 

“He definitely is.” Jisung winked at you.

You smile. You had forgotten they were all mates. This eased your embarrassment, knowing they have probably heard each other one time or another. They were probably used to it by now.

The rest of the morning went by smoothly. You hung out with everyone and enjoyed being home once more. The guys decided to play movies to kill the time as they waited for the lawyer to call with an update. Minho was in Chan’s office, busying himself while he anxiously waited.

“Please rise for your panel of judges.” the officer spoke.

The audience, Chan, Seojoon, and Griffin all stood, waiting for the judges to take their seats. Once the judges sat, so did the audience and jury. 

“Good afternoon, we are now convening in the matter of case number 2018325. Please have the parties identify themselves for the record." the main judge announced.

“Defendant Christopher Bang.” Chan spoke.

“Thank you.”

“We are here to discuss the matter of your three homicide charges and whether or not they will be reduced.” The main judge stated for the record.

Chan shifted in his stance, hands behind his back as he stood confidently.

“Upon review of the security tape footage within your holding cell, as discussed last time, we found the footage to be tampered with.” the judge to the left said.

Chan looked over to his lawyer who gave him a subtle thumbs up.

“Because the footage was tampered with, we will be further investigating the incident.” the judge on the right speaks. “This, however, does not clear you from the charge as we have not ruled out your involvement in this incident.”

“You believe my client was involved in the tampering of evidence? Evidence that would clear him of a homicide charge?” Seojoon questioned.

“At ease counsel. We do not believe anything at this time. We must first prove that he was not involved in this matter. It’s procedure”

“With that being said, we will reconvene in two days' time. This will allow the techs to finish reviewing the footage and possibly restore what was tampered.” the judge on the left spoke.

“Meeting adjourned.” the main judge spoke.

The judges, jury and audience began exiting the courtroom. Chan turned to Seojoon, confused.

“Not here.” was all Seojoon said.

Seojoon and Chan went into the interrogation room to talk.

“What the fuck was that about?” Chan asked once they were alone.

“My guess is they think there is a possibility that footage was conveniently tampered with just enough to be noticeable. For example, you or someone you hired are tricking them. You tampered with it and made it obvious but didn’t actually hide anything because there was nothing to hide.”

“What would I gain from that?”

“They would see the tampering and believe you were telling the truth without looking into it. Then you are free of the charge even though there was no secret visitor.” Seojoon shook his head. “But because there actually was a visitor, they will uncover that and clear you.”

“This is ridiculous. It’s never ending. It will be Christmas before they make a decision at this point.” Chan threw his arms up, exasperated.

“Chan, calm down. This is exactly what they want. To drag you around so you’re restless and on edge. They want you to get angry so you make a mistake or act out and they charge you with something else.” Seojoon explained. “And it’s not going to take another three months. Stay positive.”

Chan sighed heavily. He knew Seojoon was right, he was just furious they were giving him the run-around.

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, rest up. I’ll see you in a couple days.” Seojoon gave Chan a look, making sure they were on the same page.

Chan nodded. Seojoon headed out and Chan was taken back to his cell. He looked around angrily. He wanted to punch the wall, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t show how much they were pissing him off.

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @thatgirlangelb @fr34k4c1dr41n @stwq2349 @rylea08 @sang-09 @scarlet789 @hxnnielk @thecutiepieme  

Shout out to my lovely beta @cherry-erii

[melodiesz]

Leave it all behind, let the ocean wash away .｡°‧°𓆞*･°｡.

You and Gojo have a conversation on leaving jujutsu society behind. Spoiler! he never can.

The sound of the ocean filled your ears as you walked on the boardwalk. Each step on the old wood made a creaking sound that was thankfully drowned out by the waves crashing against it and the tumbling raindrops crashing down.

It was dark, hard to see more than a few feet in front of you. You were being led purely by his cursed energy radiating in the air, working as almost a compass with home being him.

“Satoru?” you called out, your voice struggling to be heard through the heavy rain.

He didn’t turn, didn’t give any indication that he noticed you there despite your awkward waiting. He was soaked head to toe, your mind taking a second to realize that meant he had his infinity down.

You walked closer, standing idly beside him. You took in the state of him, his usual glasses discarded and his trademark grin nowhere to be found. You didn't ask questions, just patiently waited for him to be ready on his own.

“Haibara…” he started, lips wobbling. He took a sharp breath, sniffling and struggling to get his next words out. “Riko, too.” You just nodded in understanding, their names bringing back the horrible memories like it was mere seconds ago.

His next word was choked out, and his resolve collapsed immediately after.

“Geto.”

He brought his clenched fists to his face, failing to muffle his cries with his large palm clasped over his mouth as his eyes—firmly shut in struggle—poured more than the rain above you.

You just stood there, not having any idea of what to say. There wasn't anything to say, no words alone could bring them back.

You felt like your presence there was useless. You meant to swoop in with comforting words and a warm hug, but with the deep ocean staring back at you, you realized there might just be nothing you can do.

Fate was cruel, that was all there was to say.

His sobs, violent and unwavering seemed to carry over the waves and through the wind. The melody was a testimony, the raw, unfiltered truth of The Strongest. This man was not untouchable—in fact pain hit him like another knife through the chest—only this time, he couldn’t save himself.

He carried this grief in his bones, a sick, taunting reminder of how many things were out of his hands despite his seemingly unlimited power. He finally looked to you, a desperation in his eyes you’d never seen before.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he admitted. It wasn’t a simple, meaningless complaint; It was the raw truth.

“Don’t you ever just want to leave it all behind?” He asked, waiting to feel you recoil, to hear you scold him about his selfishness and his duty in being the strongest. To drag him back to Tokyo High to force more smiles and fight more curses until it was his turn to lead another generation of sorcerers to their fate.

And yet, you didn’t. You just met his ruined face with a sincere look. You knew you shouldn’t agree with him when he was clearly in a hysteric state, but this was the only time he wasn’t acting. His carefree facade was at the deepest pit of the ocean, and here he was displaying his true feelings like he was holding out his beating heart.

This was Satoru, not the honoured one. There was no hint of a joke in his tone, only raw, human honesty. He stood there with heavy bags under his eyes and messy hair in almost complete silence, just awaiting your response like it was his lifeline. This wasn’t a romantic, run-away-with-me confession, it was an exhausted, desperate for escape yet scared to be alone one.

“A day hasn’t gone past where I don’t,” you finally agreed, and his eyes glinted with hope.

“so why don’t we?” he breathed, childlike excitement clear in his tone. He felt like freedom was in his reach for the first time in his life; could feel the sensation of free choice and getting to be human rather than a weapon.

You thought again to the world of jujitsu. So many people had been saved because of him, and so many people would die because of his absence. You loved him, so couldn’t you let him be selfish just this once? All you wanted was for him to get to be human. To get to be happy.

Despite that, the truth never wavered.

There were others who needed The Strongest more than you needed Satoru Gojo.

The words that left your lips felt hollow. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He blinked. How many times had he said that before only to find himself back at Tokyo? Too many to count. So many that he knew what it meant.

His shoulders fell and his gaze settled back onto the ocean. His infinity surged back on, lighting up his eyes but not able to bring the spark in them back.

He heard your footsteps as you walked away, but again, he didn’t look back. He just continued staring at the flowing waves—more free than he would ever get to be—and awaited returning to being The Strongest.

————

His grief is SO overlooked and ignored it pains me :(( Title is from Honeymoon by Lana Del Rey! ᥫ᭡

[naffeclipse]

Heya, @niexigo! I'm your Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this little fic focused on Moon and a little romantic moment of seeing Christmas lights together! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas! <3

Lights on the Water

Moon x Reader Word Count: ~2,000 Warnings: N/A

Winter in the city means lights. Christmas lights, of course. The LED hues have begun to pop up like poinsettias along every home and elegant crystal white displays are out in front of every store. This is the best time of year—and there is much reason to celebrate.

A lot has changed since robots, animatronics, and any machine that wished to breathe gained recognition of their sentience. The last few months have been a swirling storm. Protests and hatred bring a cold shiver around the world, but it has not stopped the evolution of new life. 

You are grateful. Without the chaos, you wouldn’t be here, holding an animatronic’s hand. 

Your Moon. His digits are long, painted in silver and blue hues. He cradles your mitten wrapped palm in the pocket of his silver wool coat. It’s almost comical how much bigger he is than you. 

Standing well over your height, with limbs and hands to match, he engulfs you against his side in a bid to keep you warm against the December chill. You’ve seen so many models of animatronics, both humanoid and entirely machine, but Moon slots somewhere in the middle with his discus shaped head and deceptively thin limbs. His expressions are a bit more advanced, his mouth being able to move and his eyes able to crease and expand to emphasize whatever he may be saying. 

You stand together at the entrance of the city park. It boasts an impressive size, with plenty of acres for dogs, joggers, and little children who need to expel vast amounts of energy from their wiggling bodies. There’s even a sizable pond featuring a bridge crossing its width and holds tiny fish and ducks—though you doubt you’ll catch a glimpse of those animals in this frozen season.

The darkness is steep even in early evening, and carries a blue tinge that seems to spread like frost through the winter. Yet, it is perfect. The lights in the distance wrapped around trees, poles, and shaped structures are warm beacons. 

You lift your free hand to tug on Moon’s scarf. The silver and deep blue stripes wrap snugly around his spindly neck, but you fear the cool air might be hard on his inner workings. It is well below freezing. He tilts his head. His nightcap swings softly over his shoulder with a soft trinkle of a bell. The low glow of his red optics softens upon you.

“My internal regulation is a lot more advanced than yours,” he rasps, touched with mirth.

“I know that, but you weren’t built to be outdoors.” You tuck one end of the scarf into his wool coat. The thick and warm material reassures you while your fingertips are seized by the bitter cold air. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? A kiss to warm your cheek, an embrace to melt any ice in your system. As a human, I am naturally above the freezing temperature, and at your service.”

His scarlet-hued gaze crinkles in humor. He lifts a hand. Though you’ve found that he tends to run cool (thanks to his advanced internal regulation system) he can warm himself up to a decree that makes it all too easy for you to fall asleep in his arms on movie nights. 

“Hm, yes, you are very rosy-cheeked,” Moon murmurs. He palms your cheek, and your eyelids immediately flutter against the blissful heat of his touch. “Whatever would I do without my darling human to save me?”

“You’d freeze and become a pole or something. They might hang wreaths on you.” You snort at your own joke. 

“Har har,” he says dryly. “Snowball, leave the comedy to me.”

You lean deeper into his touch. His thumb caresses softly along your face, drawing underneath your eye before sweeping back a strand of hair that fell out of your beanie. This close, his optics dust you in a soft red glow.

Your favorite color of late has been red. His red eyes. The red ribbons he ties around his wrists with golden bells. The red ruffles around his neck. He’s bundled now, but he still looks at you with the scarlet light that makes you melt.

“Come on. The lights aren’t going to see themselves.” You force yourself to straighten out of the delicious comfort of his temperature. He chuckles, a mischievous sound that now fills you with a giddiness.

“Lead the way, Rudolph.” He boops your nose and turns to the entrance. Though, he doesn’t take a step without gathering your hand back in his and setting it within the safe confines of his coat pocket. He squeezes your palm once. You squeeze back.

He’s never seen the lights before. He told you this once as the holiday season approached, and it appalled you. Of course, how could he have seen any Christmas decorations and displays outside of the Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex? From what he’s told you, and from what you’ve gathered out of his selected details, the work conditions were not humane. Why would they be for machines? But regardless, you made him a promise, and he shared his enthusiasm.

Through the twinkling blue evening, you and him stroll inside the park. The very first lights are trees engulfed in lights. One purple, one yellow, one green, one red. You have not the foggiest idea how painstakingly long it must take to wrap each bough and the whole trunk of the tree until it’s a blazing torch in the night. The path winds softly through the burning bright trees. 

Moon turns his face up towards the light. You subtly watch him from the corner of your eyes, trying to study his reaction without making him feel like the focus of your attention. You’ve visited the park many times over the years to see the lights. Your only hope is that he finds it as beautiful as you do.

His optics are low in comparison to the bright bulbs. The light beams onto his faceplate, highlighting the curve of his shadowy crescent and coloring his pale other half. It catches on his cheeks. His teeth grin but there is a glimmering awe to the edge of his constant smile. 

You hold his arm, your other hand still smugly dipped into his pocket.

“There’s so much more,” you whisper to him, “but it’s pretty, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, pretty,” he answers in a gentle crackle of static.

He turns to look down at you. He stops a moment, and stares. You blink. Is there something on your face?

His expression softens before he pecks your cheek with a kiss.

“Come on,” he tugs you further down the path, “There’s more, right?”

Your face heats not simply due to the warmth of his mouth. The tip of your boot almost snags on your other leg as you try to step in time with him. In a hot haze, you force yourself to inhale a great frosty breath and bring yourself back into focus.

The animatronic knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Deeper into the park, the displays begin popping up along the path. Instead of twinning around trees and filling the fronds like a forest fire, the lights take shapes after candy canes, reindeer, snowflakes, and Santa’s sleigh. 

“The kids would love this,” Moon says as you pass by a golden row of bows and ribbons twisting down the sidewalk. His job as Daycare Attendant remains a preference of his. The daycare he owns and runs, no longer attached to the Fazbear name, is just down the road from your apartment and his.

“Oh yeah, I always see families here,” you nod. You two arrived later—after the early rush in the hope of not being crowded and forced to move quickly to let others have their turn. It seems to be working for the most part. 

He hums thoughtfully while continuing down to a section dedicated to Christmas toys. An elephant with polka dots and a dolly with red braids and blue bows in her hair smile at you and Moon walking along. 

You shiver once. Your poor fingers are exposed to the elements, even with the defense of a glove, and suffering. A low chuckle emits from Moon. Before you can protest, he steps around your, freeing your one hand to stuff the other into his coat pocket. 

“What will humans become if they freeze?” he asks, deadpan. You pull a face at him. He breezes past your pout. “Popsicles? I could sprinkle sugar on you.”

“Ew,” you say, but laugh. “But probably. A human popsicle sounds about right.”

“Sorry, but I can’t let that happen,” Moon shakes his head. “You fragile humans.”

“Not fragile,” you announce, but he pulls your beanie down over your ears all the same. 

The display continues into a little north pole display featuring polar bears and igloos and sliding penguins. (You’re pretty sure penguins don’t live in the north pole, but who are you to criticize art?) Moon points out an ice fishing hole. You ask if he has any wanderlust for the great outdoors. He pauses and considers that he might want to experience a camping trip, but that’s more of Sun’s thing.

You make a mental note of that.

The path darkens as it winds further along. Moon walks closely beside you. His stride is considerably slower, thanks in part to you and your comparatively short legs. He doesn’t seem to mind. His digits interlock between your fingers. Cradling your hand, you sight at the sweet relief of his warmth easing the numbing sting of the cold. Your other hand, however, is beginning to freeze once more.

You can hold out. You’re not fragile. No matter how much Moon likes to tease.

Around the bend, the path lowers into a curving circle around a great pond. Moon lingers in the slightest as you watch him again. His eyes roam over the floating lights set in the shape of trees upon the water. The colors gleam and dance along the surface, reflecting yellow, red, silver, and soft blues in a bright effect. 

“This is my favorite,” you say softly into his shoulder.

He dips his head closer to you, though his eyes don’t wander from the beautiful displays. The twinkling lights reflect off of the water. You tug Moon further along the path following the edge of the water. Walking slowly, you allow him to drink in full view, enjoying the peaceful calm of a winter’s night with such warm lights.

“Beautiful,” Moon says once you finish a full loop around the pond.

You make a soft sound of content and lean closer against him. He releases your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulder and tug you in close. For a blissful heartbeat, you both watch the dazzling display, two mirrored versions of lights divided only by the waterline.

Moon suddenly laughs. You lift your head up in confusion to stare at him.

“You’re shivering.” He squeezes you a little tighter into his embrace. Indeed, once pressed against his wool coat, you realize your muscles are working hard to bring your body’s temperature back up.

“I’m fine,” you say, but pause, “They always sell hot chocolate at the very end of the path.”

“Alright,” he turns and lowers himself to you. He smuggles softly against your neck, and you breathe out in solace as the heat of his faceplate finds the cooled parts of your skin just under your chin. “Let’s get you some hot chocolate, then I’ll take you home.”

“Sounds good,” you murmur, your jawline bumping against his nightcap slightly. 

Moon rubs your shoulders in soothing circles, his heat slipping through your coat.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

You smile though he cannot see it.

“Your welcome, sweetheart.” You think for a moment. “Does that mean you had a good time?”

“I did, and I still am,” he straightens. His grin is gentle in the darkness. The red of his eyes fills you with a molten adoration. “I think we should get going before you become a human popsicle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you try to wave away his concern. You, however, grab his hand and press it to your mouth. Your kiss holds softly to his palm. His fingers curl gently against your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Moon,” you whisper once you release his hand.

“Merry Christmas, snowdrop,” he answers in kind.

[ap0llonian]

Park Follies

PERCY JACKSON x Apollo!READER

sypnosis: you don't like the rides percy's taking you for your “friendly” themepark date, until you head for the ferris wheel.

notes: reader is, again, a child of apollo, reader is gender neutral, reader is very judgemental, fluff, friends to lovers, ferris wheel trope

a/n: took the pic from a manhwa called operation: true love!

-----

The sun was already setting, beaming down on the theme park, and you couldn't contain your excitement as you navigated through the vibrant seas of people. Every corner of the park pulsed with energy, from the screaming rollercoasters to the colorful stalls lining the walkways.

But the rides Percy led you to were... not so thrilling. You were a child of the God of—many things! You were the embodiment of fun. He must've lacked the “humor literature.”

“This ride is seriously lacking,” you declared, shaking him with an insistent grip. “I thought you would show me something that could really make my adrenaline pumping, not just a slow spin on a plastic horse.”

Percy smirked, shaking his head. “It’s a carousel, not a roller coaster. Not everything can be an epic adventure.”

“My point still stands.” You shrugged with a grin.

The day continued with a mix of roller coasters, carnival games, and food stands. Every ride you encountered seemed to get an immediate and loud critique from you. You had a special way of making even the simplest attractions sound like the worst thing ever. Despite your constant complaints, Percy remained as patient as ever—only staring at you with an underlying tone of something you couldn't seem to shake.

As you approached another game stall, your attention was completely captured by a prize displayed on the table. It was a plushie that had the exact features of Percy—and with no problems, you got it.

“Wow, it’s got the same hair as him too...” You muttered, fiddling with the knitted clothes. It was removable too—who does that?

“Look, Jackson, it looks exactly like y—”

Turning around, you'd only seen a random kid staring up at you with the stink eye (what a bitch.)

Your heart dropped, and your eyes immediately started darting to her surroundings, trying to find the supposedly, very spottable son of Poseidon. He was nowhere to be found. Like, literally. Too many people to even find him.

“That guy!” You grumbled to yourself as you rammed through the seas of unfamiliar faces, muttering a few apologies to whom you had accidentally bumped into.

None. None. None!

He was nowhere to be found, making you even more agitated.

Minutes stretched on, each one feeling like an eternity. Your eyes darted back and forth, scanning every black haired guy. The thrill of the games and rides seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by a gnawing worry.

“He’s—” There he finally was, standing in line for the ferris wheel. He seemed so nonchalant, with a pack of pretzels—he didn’t even think to tell you!

Relief (with a mixture of irritation) flooded through you, and you rushed over to him.

“Percy, where have you been?!” You demanded, grabbing a hold of his arm with a vice-like grip. “I was about to organize a search party! You can’t just leave me like that!”

He, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry, sorry! I was just saving a spot for us on the ferris wheel.”

“Next time, tell me where you’re going!” You scolded, reaching up to tug on his reddening ear.

He nodded, an apologetic smile on his face, and led you to the ferris wheel. As you climbed on one of the cabs, you noticed the slight shiver to his body, even under the weight of his jacket. His hands started to pale, a contrast to yours.

“You seem cold,” you muttered, trying to lighten up the wilting mood.

“Nah, I’m alright.” Percy assured with a shake of his head, and sat in the opposite direction as you.

You didn’t buy it—not when the blood on his palm was starting to go away. You unwrapped the scar around your neck and rose from your seat. Without hesitation, you wrapped it around his neck, hoping to provide some comfort.

His eyes slightly widened, and he instinctively grabbed your wrists. “No, I’m okay. You keep it—”

“Percy, just take the scarf. You look like you’re about to turn into an ice sculpture.” You deadpanned, your eyes staring directly at his. The once glowing aura of yours seemed to darken along with the sun setting, making the atmosphere more—intimate, ish.

With a resigned sigh, he gave in, accepting the scarf and wrapping it around his shoulders. The two of you settled into the cab as the ferris wheel began its slow ascent, the view of the park unfolding below you.

The sky transitioned from bright blue to soft oranges and pinks, creating a breathtaking backdrop that framed the scene perfectly. The fading light bathed the scene in a soft, romantic light, enhancing the atmosphere.

“Dad would’ve loved it here. The view is breathtaking!” You said as your eyes landed on the little people below you. “Even if—”

Before you could finish your dramatic musing, Percy’s gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. There was something in his expression, a mix of hesitation and longing, that made you pause.

“Percy, what’s wrong? You okay?” You asked and leaned in slightly with narrowed eyes, trying to find anything out of the ordinary on his face.

Well, none. He was perfect.

Your cheeks started to heat up—and not from the temperature, but from his gaze. You turned your head to fully face him, mouth opening to speak. But then—

His lips press against yours, for just a moment. A very long moment. It was gentle but filled with an unspoken deoth that made your heart race.

You then reeled back, staring at him wide-eyed and gaped. You couldn’t even notice the faint tint of pink spreading across his cheeks, embarrassed by the sudden intimacy.

“I’m sor... what?” Your words died on your tongue, which was unlikely of you. You were usually so talkative.

Not here, though. Your breath was utterly taken away.

“Y-yeah... sorry, I’m so sorry.” He stammered softly, his hand flying to his mouth.

You cleared your throat, not being able to hear the incoherent and muffled apologies and explanations coming out of his mouth. Your mind was trying to process this whole thing.

You weren’t mad; quite the opposite. You felt... giddy. The same feeling with your father when he was with his past lover—but you didn’t know that. The author just wanted to add that for references.

Albeit, your fingers slightly twitched, almost wanting to do something you might regret. But you only live once, right?

So, with no hesitation, you grabbed the ends of the scarf and pulled Percy in for another... well, kiss. Your lips meshed into each other perfectly, the softness of it making you melt. The kiss was longer, a little more passionate, and it conveyed everything you had been feeling throughout the day.

When you finally broke apart, the both of you were breathless, staring at one another with flushed cheeks and bewildered expressions. You kissed Percy Jackson.

A shy smile managed to dance across his lips, “So, how’s the view?”

You grinned and gently pushed his face away, averting your gaze to the ground.

“Definitely better now.”

[eagerledscreen]

Can Energy-Saving LED Displays Be Used Outdoors?

LED displays have rapidly gained popularity as the preferred choice for indoor advertising, entertainment, and information broadcasting due to their energy efficiency and vibrant visual output. However, one question that remains in head is whether these Energy Saving LED Displays can also be effectively utilized in outdoor environments. Improvements to technology make the idea of placing LED screens outside quite promising.

One of the main benefits of LED screens is energy efficiency.In comparison of traditional display technologies, LEDs consume significantly less power while providing brighter and more vibrant visuals. They are perfect for outdoor applications because of their innate capacity to save energy, which is important when considering environmental sustainability and power consumption.

Their capacity to deal with challenging environmental conditions, such as rain, wind, and severe temperatures, is ensured by the use of robust materials, including weather-resistant coatings and tough protective casings.Because of improvements in thermal management technologies, these displays can operate at their best even in bright sunshine.

The visual brilliance of LED displays makes them a compelling option for outdoor advertising and public information dissemination. LED technology's ability to produce high contrast ratios and true-to-life colors ensures that content remains bright and captivating, even in broad daylight. This feature is particularly beneficial for digital billboards, stadiums, transportation hubs, and other outdoor venues seeking to attract the attention of passersby and audiences.

Traditional displays have a limited operational life, leading to frequent replacements and higher maintenance costs. However, LED displays boast significantly longer lifespans, reducing the frequency of replacements and thereby contributing to cost savings in the long run.

Customization options for LED screens are flexible. They can be designed in various shapes and sizes, enabling the creation of innovative and eye-catching displays tailored to specific outdoor settings. This adaptability extends to content management, where dynamic and interactive content can be easily integrated, enhancing audience engagement and interaction.

However, there are still certain issues with energy-saving LED displays used outside. One challenge is maintaining consistent brightness and visibility during adverse weather conditions, like heavy rain or snow. While manufacturers continue to improve outdoor LED displays' performance under such circumstances, ongoing research and development is necessary to further enhance their resilience.

Energy-saving LED displays have demonstrated their efficacy in outdoor environments, proving that they are much more than indoor counterparts. As technology continues to evolve, these displays are expected to become even more efficient and reliable, contributing significantly to sustainable practices in outdoor advertising and communication. With ongoing innovations in the LED display industry, we can confidently say that the future looks bright for energy-saving LED displays outdoors.

[papagabu]

SHADOW’S CHARACTER BIO: METAL BREAKERS AU

NAME: Shadow

AGE: ???

SPECIES: Hedgehog like bio-engineered organism.

HEIGHT: 3’3"

WEIGHT: 77 lbs

OCCUPATION:

Currently classified as a failed weapon

PHYSICAL STATUS:

Shadow remains in peak physical condition. Engineered to be the Ultimate Lifeform, his body is resistant to aging, disease, and physical fatigue. His reflexes, speed, and durability remain superior to most Resistance soldiers, although years in stasis and inactivity have dulled his edge. His regenerative abilities, while not limitless, allow for rapid recovery from most injuries.

MENTAL STATUS:

Shadow displays strong signs of emotional volatility and a lack of loyalty toward Resistance leadership. He is highly intelligent and tactical, but deeply insubordinate and often refuses direct orders. While he is useful in the field for now, there is growing concern that his independence and unpredictable behavior could pose a long-term threat to Resistance operations.

COMBAT EFFICIENCY:

Once considered the peak of bio-engineered combat potential, Shadow’s raw power has been eclipsed by newer generations of enhanced fighters and upgraded Resistance soldiers. Despite this, he remains a force to be reckoned with. His Chaos abilities, including short-range teleportation, energy-based attacks, and temporary time dilation, give him an advantage few others possess. He is still capable of outmaneuvering or overpowering most standard opponents, though he struggles against high-tier Resistance operatives in direct confrontation. His fighting style is aggressive, fluid, and highly adaptive.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Shadow has developed a tense and competitive relationship with Dr. Miles "Tails" Prower, who views him as dangerous and expendable. Shadow typically retreats or disengages when Tails becomes hostile, though it is unclear whether this is due to fear or restraint. He remains distant from most members of the Resistance but shows more respect and restraint around women, particularly Rouge, whom he saved during the team's retreat from Prison Island. Shadow has also taken a curious interest in Zero, a Resistance soldier, and appears to be forming a reluctant mentorship with him, offering occasional advice and guidance during training and missions.

BACKGROUND:

Shadow the Hedgehog was created over sixty years ago aboard the Space Colony ARK as the final result of Project Shadow, a classified government operation initiated under the false premise of achieving immortality. The real objective was to develop biological weapons of unprecedented power. Professor Gerald Robotnik, considered the most brilliant scientific mind of his generation, initially refused to take part in the project due to his ethical concerns and suspicions about the military’s intentions. However, his stance changed when he realized the research could be redirected to cure his granddaughter Maria’s terminal illness, Neuro-Immune Deficiency Syndrome. Isolated from Earth, Gerald accepted the position and began conducting advanced experiments aboard the ARK. His early efforts, involving Chaos Emerald energy, led to the creation of the Biolizard, the prototype Ultimate Life Form. Although the Biolizard demonstrated regenerative abilities and Chaos-based functions, it grew unstable and uncontrollable, lacking intelligence and requiring a life support system to survive.

Unsatisfied with the results, Gerald entered into a dangerous agreement with Black Doom, the alien leader of the Black Arms, in exchange for assistance and genetic material. With Black Doom’s DNA, Gerald engineered a second prototype, this time designing it to resemble a hedgehog and embody traits of compassion and strength. Influenced by Maria’s belief that even shadows can guide one toward the light, Gerald chose to create Shadow not as a weapon but as a symbol of hope and protection. Shadow developed a close bond with Maria and became deeply curious about Earth, though he often wondered about his own origins and purpose.

Their time together ended when the military organization G.U.N. learned of the project’s true nature and launched a secret operation to shut it down. Under the pretense of a biohazard outbreak, G.U.N. stormed the ARK, killing researchers, detaining Gerald, and fatally shooting Maria as she helped Shadow escape. With her last breath, Maria sent Shadow to Earth in an escape pod. Gerald, driven by grief and rage, was imprisoned on Prison Island where he secretly reprogrammed Shadow and devised a plan to crash the ARK into Earth as revenge for Maria’s death. He was executed before the plan could unfold, and Shadow was placed in suspended animation in a secure G.U.N. facility.

Years later, Tails came into possession of Gerald’s journal, retrieved by Rouge during an expedition through one of Robotnik’s abandoned bases. Intrigued by the scientific breakthroughs detailed within, Tails studied the contents extensively. The journal inspired new advancements, including his development of chaos drive technology and enhancements to his own body using concepts derived from Project Shadow. Upon discovering references to a living Ultimate Life Form held in stasis within an abandoned G.U.N. prison, Tails saw an opportunity. Believing he could awaken Shadow and use him as a weapon against the Metal Empire, he formed a team with Rouge and Knuckles and launched an infiltration mission on Prison Island.

Armed with a single Chaos Emerald locked in a suppression cage, the team fought their way through deteriorated G.U.N. defense units to reach Shadow’s chamber. Once inside, Tails used the Emerald to activate Gerald’s terminal and awakened Shadow from stasis. Upon revival, Shadow agreed to join the mission against the Metal Emperor on the condition that he be given the Emerald. Tails, suspecting Shadow’s intent, refused and instead attached a device to Shadow’s arm capable of drawing ambient Chaos Energy from the world. Shadow, dissatisfied, attempted to seize the Emerald, prompting Tails to strike him. In response, Shadow teleported behind Tails using Chaos Control and launched a counterattack, but Tails had already applied the same technology to himself. He dodged the assault and retaliated with a crushing blow that knocked Shadow into the ground. Determining that Shadow was unpredictable and a liability, Tails called off the mission and declared Shadow useless to the resistance.

However, as the group exited the facility, they were ambushed by a squad of Metal Spawn. Despite a fierce battle, Rouge was overwhelmed and called for help. Tails, focused on securing the Emerald, refused to assist. Just as defeat seemed inevitable, Shadow returned unexpectedly and rescued Rouge, helping repel the enemy forces. His actions earned him a reluctant place in the resistance, with Rouge personally vouching for him. Tails, still distrusting, opposed Shadow’s involvement and issued a warning that if Shadow came near the Emerald again, he would not hesitate to kill him.

[rainbowcarousels]

Baby Genesis Headcanons (just because)

Genesis was the first baby born from the project. We know it was canonly either Angeal or him, but with a name like Genesis and the fact Deepground was set up after his birth rather than Angeal's, it makes sense he's the first baby.

He was also a premature baby. Given what we know of the process of the jenova babies happening, it's likely his biological mother died from mutations not unlike we see at Nibelheim given this was where the Jenova project was set. That would also imply that Genesis and Angeal were also Nibelheim babies as it seems there were multiple labs there from what we've seen in DoC and Rebirth.

Since we know whatever is in Genesis's genetic structure that's unusual was there at birth from the DoC guides, I tend to think this means some aspects of cell degeneration were already there there too. As such, I don't think his pre-SOLDIER immune system was great and he was the type of kid who got every cold and cough under the sun. It led to him spending a lot of time curled up books.

Spent more time at Angeal's or in the caves than he did at home. By the age of ten, he had mastered getting out of Angeal's window just to knock on the door as if he was arriving. Angeal's parents know of these shenanigans, point out they know but Genesis still continued to do it because he has always commited to the bit.

I do think Genesis is far more fond of Angeal's parents than he is of his own. Loves his own, obviously, but their relationship is far more complicated for reasons he doesn't understand and I think it says something Gillian displayed pictures of both of them. The woman might be stone cold in some ways (such as putting her guilt before saving her kid) but I think there is a sense of responsibility with Genesis and for whatever it was worth, I think Genesis honestly thought she'd help without getting Angeal involved because of that relationship.

Genesis had private lessons compared to Angeal doing the village hall packet classes. Whether he actually studied all of it is questionable, but he's always had enough charm and unapologetic gumption to get away with things. The utter hilarity that Angeal seems to have been seen as more of a bad influence will never get old.

Genesis did not know he was fostered at all, so this provides a certain amount of confusion to his childhood interactions with his parents. It's said that they 'grew' to love him, but he absolutely remembers that detatchment and doesn't really understand it. It's a wedge that sits between them for a long time, assuming maybe they didn't particularly want kids when he happened so he's a bit of an inconvenience and they're just dealing with that.

I absolutely believe Genesis' biological father is Gast. If he's the first baby and Gast is definitely caught in the excitement, I can see him deciding well he's too human, he can go have a quiet life in an apple orchard and given Shinra's surveillance, it's easy enough to check in on him if need be. I don't think he ever really considers Genesis his, it was very much a clinical process unlike with Ifalna, but does consider the kids his in a very broad sense of being part of the project. There's a disconnect there that - not unlike Gillian - he can really only see his own guilt and mistakes rather than the living, breathing kids it produced.

Genesis's first summon was found in the caves under Banora. It was a summon - for me, I use Ifrit - and he spent so much time and energy leveling it up and delving into fire and magic that they became his most intense disciplines as an adult. That said, people definitely....misplaced materia around him, oops, how did that happen? (Yuffie would be proud)

Given that Banora was the freezer for Project G, I think he and Angeal were the only kids around their age for a long time and they've been codependent as hell ever since. I think there is an aspect of Jenova cells recognising each other as much as it's being the only two little kings of the castle for their village for a good while, but the result is the same: getting seperated for great lengths was a lot harder when they got into SOLDIER because they'd spent their whole lives around each other (more than they know).

Genesis's interest in exploration of gender nonconformity grew out of the magazines and things that he could get from Midgar. I think originally it was just a bonding thing with his mum, like he learned how to make drinkslike a Little Adult from an early age. I think that doing things like nails or learning about make up was just a way to get his mother to talk at length without any weirdness creeping in but he developed a genuine passion for it as a form of individualistic self expression. Especially later around Sephiroth.

I think Genesis talks at people more so than to them because he grew up in a big house with very few people around and the silence was deafening. Even as a little kid, I think he just talked aloud. It just made him feel lonely, so filling that silence became a way of dealing with that and so, years on, when no one is listening to him, he's used to that. It's a good way to get past the 'you never told me that' thing because he can sneak in that he knocked over one of Angeal's bug infested monstrosities when Angeal isn't listening between LOVELESS arguments.

[auspicioustidings]

Bannockburn

Summary: Your boyfriend Johnny has come home in a strange mood, and you are about to get your shit rocked at Bannockburn.

Technically, if you squint, a sequel to Savage set just over 700 years later. Like I will perhaps write a proper sequel at some point, but you can blame Bunny for this one.

Words: 3.6k

CW: CNC, smut, implied character death

You were getting nervous. You were getting really nervous. There were two Johnny’s and you never knew what one you were getting when he came home from a mission. Most of the time you got your Johnny, sweet and loving and tackling you to the bed with a laugh while he showed you how much he missed you. But sometimes whatever happened out on mission got his blood up. Whatever he usually did to get himself settled and out of war mode didn’t take. Sometimes you got the Savage Johnny, the one who heard your English accent and became more animal than man. The one who went into such thick Scots that you hardly understood what he was growling into your ear as he took you. 

Usually you knew what Johnny you had the moment he walked through the door. Not this time. This time he seemed like he was boiling with energy under the surface, but he kissed you nonetheless and ate dinner with you and held you as you slept. When he got you both up and packed into the car the next morning for a trip you had the sense to at least be a little worried. Now, hand held in his as you listened to the guide, you had some inkling that you might be in for it. 

“Now King Edward the second invaded as a result of Bruce’s demand to his people to recognise him as their King. He summoned 25,000 infantry and 2000 horses, the largest ever army to invade Scotland. Bruce only had command of 6000 men.”

You could feel the blood draining from your face as the guide went further into the background of the battle. Around about the time she briefly mentioned how Wallace had been hanged, drawn and quartered, limbs displayed in different cities, just shy of ten years before the Battle of Bannockburn, you absolutely knew what Johnny you had on your hands. And this Johnny? There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this Johnny. This Johnny was taking in every word, ready to punish you for your ancestors' transgressions against his. 

You were trying to pay attention, but your eyes were darting around trying to pinpoint any little nooks that might spell danger if he got you in them. Only that was dangerous in itself, because the first time you felt your attention drift from what was being said Johnny had let go of your hand and moved to instead hold you firm by the back of the neck, fingers massaging a little too hard in warning. That got you to pay rapt attention to all of it, to the whole history of the Scottish wars of Independence as it related to Bannockburn. 

It was strange sometimes, you and Johnny. There were times like now when you would be learning about the history of your countries and it felt like some long forgotten memory. There were times when you met his Lieutenant and swore you knew him from somewhere. Like there was some ancient part of you that trusted them when they fought together to watch each other's backs. No matter what Johnny you got, you held such a deep love for him that it scared you sometimes. Your heart twisted as they described what the battle would have been like for the soldiers, the sights and sounds and weapons. It must have been awful. 

You were stuck on it. Stuck on the image of a Johnny with a sword on the battlefield. That was your mistake, zoning out and just following along when he led you out to the grounds. Only when you had been walking for a while did you realise how far you were getting from the safety of a building full of people.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinae pay any attention at all did ye? Must naw have been interesting tae ye learning about how my people battered yours when they tried tae grind us intae nothing.”

“No, I was paying attention. Of course I was” you said, trying to be meek and quell some of his building fury. 

“Couldnae even hunt a bunny without some English noble claiming it wisnae our right. Punishing us” he ranted before turning to you with a feral look in his eye. “Cannae stop me from hunting one right now though can they? Ye going tae run for me wee bunny?”

Fuck. He looked ready to tear into your throat with his teeth. You felt every bit a prey animal, eyes darting around to find a way out of this. The woods. There were woods here. That was where he had been leading you while you had been busy getting stuck on the idea of him as some ancient warrior fighting to the death. Gillies Hill. The guide had told you about it, how the Scottish had made their camp here. It was where they had attacked from.

And it was where you found yourself sprinting through, heart pounding. Your logical mind knew it was a mistake, you running only meant he could chase. You should have just stayed where you were, tried to talk him down. You were stumbling and tripping, trying to get your bearings as the woods became dense around you. Every snap of a twig or sway of a branch sent you darting away in the other direction until you were shaking from exhaustion and no small amount of mounting terror.

You had never been hunted like this. Johnny had been rough with you before in the warmth of your own home, had fucked you into the bed like he was trying to mould you permanently to him. But this was a different creature entirely. This was the monster under the surface that you only caught glimpses of, that you never thought you would meet face to face. The woods were silent of another human, had you managed to escape him?

“Yer naw even trying little bunny, ye want me tae catch ye is that it? Slut.”

His breath was hot on your ear and you choked on any response you had tried to come up with. How had he gotten right behind you without a sound? You were running again, tripping and scraping your knees but clawing your way back to your feet to keep going. The little summer dress was not suited for this, but at least you were wearing boots. At least Johnny had told you to wear boots this morning. 

It was with a sickening dread that you realised he had planned this. He knew you would be running from him, knew he wanted you in a dress for easy access but boots for fleeing into the woods. At least you knew that your Johnny was still in there somewhere, enough to care about you not breaking an ankle. Not enough to care about breaking you in other ways. 

“Aww wee English princess got her knees all scraped up? All yer kinfolk are going tae ken how ye love getting on them for good Scottish cock when they see the marks. Wee whore down in the dirt fucking gagging on it, crying over how much ye love it.”

You couldn’t properly tell what direction his voice was even coming from. The shame of his words was flooding you with a sickly humiliation that only increased when your body reacted differently to how it should have. When you throbbed with need for him. 

“I’m not! That isn’t what’s happening!”

You were flustered and scared and needy and felt like you were yelling at nothing as you kept catching sight of him on your periphery only to turn and find nobody there. 

“Naw? Slick is practically running down yer plush fucking thighs princess, bet yer clenching down on nothin’. Dinnae even have tae catch ye dae I? Could just wait until ye come crawling tae me, begging me tae claim ye. Fucking pleading for it right here, right where my army celebrated before decimating yours.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine. Out here felt removed from time, it really did feel like you were betraying something by finding yourself drawn to this savage. By imagining that his prediction would prove true, that you’d beg for him. You couldn’t, it would be too much, too shameful. So you kept stumbling through the woods even when the deep tenor of his voice rang through in a mocking little song.

God he had translated this for you once. Told you that brose and butter was a euphemism, that it was about fucking a girl full of cum. It had made you blush and laugh at the time when he playfully sang it over to you now that you understood the meaning, but now? Fuck now it just scared the hell out of you with how the words were tinged with a promise. This was hardly playful, he really meant to hold you down and shove himself inside you out here in the woods where anyone could walk by. 

“We can’t! John please, not here” you pleaded, pausing to try and find where he was. “I… you were gone for months, I’ve not…”

He had made you promise before he left that you’d save yourself for him, wouldn’t even put your own fingers inside yourself while he was gone. And you hadn’t. Fuck you would be so tight now, not ready for him to take you hard. Had he known even then that this was the plan?

“Maiden are ye? Scared it’s going tae hurt, princess? It will, did they naw teach ye that we’re animals? We dinnae treat wee English lassies the way yer own men would. Ye’ll get treated the way ye should, like a fucking whore. And ye’ll take it won’t ye? Ye’ll take it wherever I want tae give it tae ye.”

Fuck, you were starting to slip away to whereever he was. You were starting to feel less like yourself and more like the poor English maiden being hunted by the enemy. The bunny being hunted by the hound. Starting to drift away into pure animal instinct, pure fear and arousal. You could hardly breathe now, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“Please…” you sobbed quietly, not even sure what you were begging for.

And then he was there, towering over you and wrapping a hand around your throat, thumb beneath your chin to tilt your head and force you to look at him. 

“Wonder whit they’d think of ye begging so pretty for the enemy. Cannae help yerself can ye?” he said, as if fascinated by you, slipping his other hand up your dress and under your panties. “Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

Your reaction to those words was violent and unexplainable. It made your legs shake and your pussy clench painfully hard. It was confusing how much it affected you, causing such a flood of wetness that Johnny noticed, his pupils dilating as he squeezed at your throat and laughed when that made you whimper and claw at his hand. He only kept on squeezing until you were starting to see stars.

“Dinnae fucking move princess.”

The pressure of his hands was gone in an instant and the flood of oxygen made you dizzy. There was no time for you to recover before he was on his knees in the dirt, treating your pussy like it was a mouth and sloppily kissing it over your panties. The press of his tongue was insistent and overwhelming, like he was trying to bully it past the fabric. When he ripped at your waistband with his teeth the lace tore. 

He continued his attack like he truly was a wolf sinking his teeth into a fresh meal, completely ruining your underwear until the mangled scraps fell to the floor and left you bare. Your hands were woven into his mohawk and you tried to pull him away, earning a growl that reverberated into your bones and a heavy handed smack to your ass before he assaulted your clit with tongue and teeth and spit. 

You felt yourself clench so hard that you almost felt nauseous. Fuck. You were trying to keep some sense of self, trying to remember that you were out in public and he was some feral version of the man you loved who was saying horrible things to you and promising he was going to hurt you. But there was a creeping haze taking over, turning you dumb for him. 

It wasn’t even something you had been aware was happening when you came on his tongue. It was just sensation, just the desperate need for more. The primal desperation to be fuller even as he pushed his tongue into your over sensitive hole while your walls fluttered through the pleasure of that high.  

“Please, need you.”

“Aye, that right? Needy wee slut.”

You were too far gone to notice that while he was rough in getting you onto your back in the dirt, one hand was gentle in cradling your head to make sure it landed softly. 

“Use those pretty wee words. Ask me for it the way ye’d ask a good English man.”

Ask me for it the way ye’d ask Simon.

When all you could do was wriggle underneath him and whine he grabbed the neckline of your dress and yanked it down to let your breasts spill out, slapping hard at one and making you howl. 

“They naw teach ye how tae talk proper ye wee slut? Ask fucking nicely.”

“Please, please I want you inside me.”

“Aye, can tell that princess. Whit else?”

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Good fucking girl, wisnae so hard now was it?”

He didn’t take any of his clothes off, just fished his hard cock from his jeans, hooked your knees on his shoulders and pressed into your wet heat in one fluid motion. You both groaned as he bottomed out. It had been so long, you were so fucking tight around him. 

“M’so full, thank you thank you ,m’yours, need you. Fuck, ah. Made for you, it’s so much” you rambled, incoherent in your bliss. 

“There she is, needed this naw? Needed my cock deep in this tight wee English cunt. Cannae be a person without it, it’s whit ye were made for. Fucking built tae be on yer back with yer legs open for me.”

He stayed like that for what felt like forever, the fullness pushing any coherent thought out of your head. Fuck he was so deep like this, with you nearly folded in half. It felt like you were choking on his dick. You were clawing at the dirt by your sides so hard that you thought your fingers might bleed, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head before they could.

You were so cock drunk that you were only distantly aware of the look in his eyes now, the almost obsessive adoration as he took in how you looked pressed into the earth like this, dress rucked up from the bottom and pulled down from the top, palm print visible from where he had slapped at you, knees by your ears, hands pinned over your head and yet despite it all so blissed out you were salivating and babbling at him how you needed him.

When he pulled all the way out to the tip and then slammed back home you choked on the wind being knocked right out of you. It only encouraged him as he started to fuck you hard and deep, taking him time to make sure every thrust settled him so incredibly deep inside of you that you were floating. 

“Braw wee creature aren’t ye? Feart of me and gagin’ fer it anyway. Dinnae fash bonnie, gettin’ yer hole proper.”

You knew vaguely that he was close because you could hardly understand what he was saying. You were so unable to do anything in this position, no leverage on your arms and legs that you could use to pull him closer. 

“Inside, need it inside. Please, please ah!” you cried, no shame left in so as you begged like a bitch in heat for him to cum inside you. 

He shifted and sped his pace, nailing that spongy spot inside you that was making your vision black out with every thrust. You’d have marks on you from the buttons and zipper of his jeans. You’d have marks on your throat and your wrists, on your tits. He needed more, he needed anyone to take one look at you and know who you belonged to.

“‘at’s it, take it. Fuck. Good lass” he groaned as he sunk his teeth into your throat and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, clamping down on his cock.

He jackhammered into you, forcing his way in while your pussy tried to force him out. The tight heat of it was too much and he growled and stilled after one more brutal thrust had him cumming deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, the painful stretch from being folded as you were a delicious burn with the extra pressure forcing you to stretch further. 

You stayed like that for a while, both panting. Only when you were slowly coming back to your senses did you feel a sharp pain in your back from what must have been a particularly jagged stone. Ah, you thought you were probably bleeding on it, feeling something sticky. 

“Bannockburn” you breathed out softly.

The pressure was off of you almost immediately and he let go of your wrists and kneeled up, pulling out with a soft sigh leaving both of you at the feeling. He was quick to tuck himself in before his hands were back on you, gentle this time, fixing your dress and rubbing at all the spots he had marked.

“C’mere bonnie, ye did so well. Hurting anywhere I need tae look at?”

He looked at your back when you told him, laying soft kisses of apology on you as he cleaned it up. You used to tease Johnny for the little first aid kit he always had strapped to the back of his jeans whenever you went out, but it was coming in incredibly handy. Your panties were toast and he sheepishly tucked the remnants of them into his pocket before getting you to unsteady feet. 

“Creeping Jesus, I’ve made a right mess out of ye” he said with a bashful sort of grin, doing his best to try and fix your hair. 

“Hmm, s’ok” you replied, still a little hazy. 

He kissed you soundly and then gave you an absolute squeeze of a cuddle before scooping you into his arms in a princess carry.

“Let’s get ye all tucked up in the car then we can have a bath and dinner when we’re home eh?”

You nodded and nuzzled into his chest to get comfortable. He would take care of you, he always did.

–

John MacTavish didn’t know how he got so lucky. Not any woman would be softly dozing off in his arms after what he had just put you through. Fuck you were beautiful all of the time, but when you were like this? Fucked out and marked up but achingly soft for him in the afterglow? Jesus, he loved you. He would love you forever, through lifetimes. 

He’d explain obviously, he should really have warned you how hard he was going to go, that should have been pre-negotiated. But he had been so wound up. Fucking Simon Riley and his little comments about you, winding him up by putting thoughts in his head about how demure an English man could get you. It should have just made him laugh and shove at him, instead it made his blood boil and his cock hard and he had taken it out on you. You had let him, you always did until either of you thought it wasn’t safe. 

He paused on his way out of the woods with you, considering waking you so you could see the little glade he had come upon. It was pretty as anything, almost felt like hallowed ground with a giant stone right in the middle. Something about it called to an ancient longing within him. Fuck. He wanted to marry you out here. Was that ridiculous? Maybe just post orgasm stupidity.

Still as he settled you in the car and took you home so he could love you properly, he thought maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

–

“Fuck, Johnny.”

Simon Riley was an Englishman through and through. Everytime he stepped into battle it was to strike down those who would oppose his King and country. Yet he had left the battlefield. He had tracked into the woods, to where he knew MacTavish had crawled off to die. He found him leant against the stone that sat in the centre of a glade. Of course this is where he would want to die. Not on the battlefield, but here. The place he had married you. The place they both had.  

“Ye come tae watch it for yerself Si?” Johnny said with a laugh that turned to a hacking cough. 

“Course. Been trying to kill you for years, not about to miss it.”

Simon sat next to him, both of them looking at the sunlight filtering through the trees. It was peaceful here. Maybe in another lifetime they would not have been enemies. Maybe in another lifetime they could have been brothers.

“Ye’ll look after her until I can find her again?”

“Always.”

[moog-rt]

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.2]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Beginning: Prologue

Previous: Chapter One

➨ Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Three

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

♡

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER TWO

The stranger’s striking red eyes narrowed as he hesitantly took the bag from you. It was hard to see behind the hair covering his face, but you noticed the skin around his eyes seemed dry and irritated. It was obvious he had been scratching at it, as well.

You were looking at him for too long, and once you realized it, you shuffled backward. A glance at the person to his side revealed a middle-aged woman slightly taller than you with straight black hair and bangs cut across her forehead. Her outfit led you to believe she worked some sort of office job, very put together in contrast to the man’s grungy, all-black look.

The two of them were an odd duo but pretty ordinary otherwise.

So why did it feel like you had a pit in your stomach when you looked at them?

It took you a moment to notice the expression on the woman’s face, wide-eyed like she’d seen a ghost. She could only take a single shaky step towards you before the man moved in front of her, forcing your focus to return to him. You had to admit, he had a bit of an unsettling energy around him, characteristic of a villain. But you had picked up his receipt, and the list appeared long enough to cover everything he was carrying.

“Thanks,” he mumbled in such a gravelly tone that you could barely recognize it as a word. He turned and walked away, but the woman stayed frozen for a moment until her eyes flickered over to her companion. Her eyebrows pressed together, and she reluctantly followed.

You couldn’t pull your eyes away as you watched them make their way down the block and around the corner. Something was urging you to go after them, like a tether wrapped around your torso, tugging you forward. Intuition was such a fickle thing, and, after leading you astray enough times, you found it hard to trust.

You were about to turn on your heel and walk back to the station when you noticed a couple of bottles of water and a bag of chips still scattered on the ground. Picking them up, you trotted after the duo in hopes of catching them in time to return the forgotten items, but, when you peered around the corner, they were gone. The sidewalk was almost entirely empty, save for an older man who seemed to be fiddling with his smart phone.

With a heavy sigh, you walked back to the convenience store and left the belongings with the cashier in case the two came back for them. As you began your trek back to the station, you were going to send another report through your communicator before noticing the screen’s display. You frowned.

‘Server Error’

Quickly, you made a call to your agency using your cellphone, feeling you may have better luck that way. Your fingers were crossed as you waited to be directed to the automated message that would filter calls to their appropriate responders. There was a moment of silence and then a flat hum was all you could hear.

Your eyebrows pinched together.

Something was wrong.

Assuming the worst, you cancelled your plans to check in with the officers at the station and instead made a b-line for the agency. The only reason the phone line wouldn’t work would be due to outside interference. You could remember it happening once before when there was a group of villains attacking the building. It wasn’t outrageous to suspect that Dai Uchuu could have headed in that direction and initiated an assault on your colleagues.

Your legs were starting to ache from all the running you were doing, and you were sure they were relieved when you finally skidded to a halt in front of your agency—

Well, what should have been your agency.

Instead, you found yourself looking up at an old warehouse that seemed like it could collapse any second. You were certain you were at the right address. You knew this part of the city like the back of your hand.

So what the fuck was going on?

What do you do in this situation? Who do you call?

The cops were already busy handling that goon who was on the loose, so you figured they were out of the question. He couldn’t have teleported your entire building and swapped it with another one, could he? Everybody’s quirks had their limits.

Maybe…

Maybe you were just tired. Maybe you got the addresses mixed up after all, took a turn one block too early.

Maybe you just needed to go home and go to sleep. Too many nights of sleep deprivation can fog the brain, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the cause of your confusion.

Yeah…it was probably best if you just went home. You reported what you could, the police were on the case, and if they needed backup, there were countless other agencies for them to reach out to.

You were calling it a night.

As you slowly made your way back home, you were pretty sure you passed the same old man you’d seen by the convenience store earlier. Your eyes met, so you gave him a courteous smile. He grinned impossibly wide in response, causing your expression to falter. You walked past each other without further exchange.

Just when you thought the night couldn’t get any stranger, you found that your apartment building had vanished, as well. An empty gravel lot filled the space where it should have been, accessorized by two small signs. One announcing that the land was recently sold, and the other advertised the planned construction of a new apartment building.

Your apartment building. As if it hadn’t yet been built…

You were so tired, so tired and so confused and so frustrated you felt like you were going to break down into tears. Your heart was pounding. Your hands were trembling. And you could feel a tension headache pressing harshly against your temples.

You had no clue what you were supposed to do in this sort of scenario. It had gotten fairly late, and you needed someplace to stay. You knew she would be busy, but calling Toga was the best idea you could come up with at that moment.

You clicked on her contact and held your phone to your ear. Just as it began ringing through, the ringtone of someone else’s phone sounded off not twenty feet away from you. Having not noticed anyone around, you were mildly startled and glanced over at the source.

Your body stiffened when you saw the same old man you’d passed earlier, the same one that was nearby the convenience store. He fumbled with his phone for a moment and studied the screen. His eyes widened when he noticed your gaze honed on him. He slowly turned his phone off and slipped it back in his pocket before beginning to walk towards you.

To hell with it all.

You barely registered you were sent to voicemail as you whipped around to start hauling ass down the street. You were going to find whatever hotel or motel or bed and breakfast was closest and hunker down there for the night. Everything else could be sorted out in the morning.

If you remembered correctly, there should be a pretty nice hotel only a few streets down. You felt like kissing the ground when, finally , there was a building exactly where it should be. You’d never been actually been inside, but the familiar entrance was a sight for sore eyes. As you walked inside, the warm glow of countless lamps and chandeliers worked to soothe and dispel all the stress that had been building up within you.

Your shoulders went slack, and you dragged a hand across your face while making your way up to the front desk. Both receptionists were busy with customers, and there was one other person still waiting to be helped, so you took your place behind them.

It was a pretty stereotypical hotel. There was a small gift shop that doubled as a convenience store for the sorry souls who forgot a toiletry or two at home. There was also a common area with a large TV for folks to lounge and keep up with the news.

At the moment, they were reporting on the Overhaul raid that you helped with a few years back. It was pretty old news, so you weren’t sure why it was being brought up again unless there was new information pertaining to the incident. Perhaps it was due to the villain you were after since he was an asset to the gang during that fight. Your eyes squinted as you read the headline crossing the screen.

‘One week since Overhaul’s arrest’

You had barely any time to process what all that statement entailed before one of the receptionists called you forward. You booked your room and handed over your ID and credit card while throwing occasional glances back at the flatscreen. You thanked the receptionist after he handed you the keycard to your room and turned your back on the TV.

Overhaul was in detainment. If he’d gotten out, you certainly would have heard about it. Especially if a whole week had passed. They were likely replaying an old broadcast at the request of a customer, and if that wasn’t the case, it was a problem for tomorrow.

As soon as you’d gotten to your room and your head hit the pillow, you were out.

♡

You’d think after getting a full night’s rest you’d be able to get a good grasp on what was going on. However, the scowl on your face grew more and more prominent with each t-shirt you flipped through. Frankly, you were offended that the hotel you lived so close to for the past year sold clothing that donned some of the most notorious villains you knew.

The owners themselves must have rooted for them during the war. That was the only thing that made sense. It was either that or they had a really sick sense of humor.

Who in their right mind would sell merchandise for villains? Especially out in the open? 

Seeing as you didn’t want to be walking around town in your soaked hero suit all day, you would have to make a decision sooner or later. Pick the lesser of…way more than two evils. You didn’t bother sparing a glance at one you recognized immediately as All Might.

That guy could pound sand. He was certainly one of the worst villains you had to face. He and his little protege were the whole reason there was a war in the first place. They were the reason your life was as fucked up as it was.

Maybe you’d buy it just to desecrate it in whatever way you could. It could serve as therapy!

You pulled a shirt and a pair of inoffensive shorts from the rack and checked out at the counter. The cashier gave you a weird glance, avoiding direct eye contact with you much like many of the other hotel-goers. You weren’t sure if it was because you were in full hero garb or because your clothing was soaked to the bone.

Either way, you couldn’t wait to get into something dry. Wiggling into your tight, wet suit this morning was one of the most skin crawling sensations you’ve experienced. You did, however, blow dry the shit out of your bra and underwear. It was less tedious than doing your entire suit, and you weren’t about to go commando top and bottom for the whole day.

After changing, you officially started your day with the complimentary breakfast buffet the hotel offered. As you ate, you had only that massive flatscreen to entertain you, so you followed along to whatever the news was reporting on. A half an hour of that left you recognizing an odd pattern.

Every ‘hero’ you’d see was supposed to be a villain, and for some godforsaken reason, they were working towards the arrests of people you knew to be true heroes. How they managed to brainwash all of society—or at least that particular news station—you had no clue. Maybe you really were just staying in some pro-villain hotel that played propaganda to please their pro-villain occupants.

That was what you wanted to believe.

However, that wouldn’t explain why your agency and apartment building were AWOL. A single, pro-villain hotel wouldn’t cause all of the police at the station to reappear out of nowhere—which you were embarrassed to admit you hadn’t even noticed at first—or the sudden change in weather. There was no way to explain why there wasn’t even a hint of rainwater left on the sidewalk last night even though there had been a downpour not five minutes earlier.

It was as if you were on another planet. It was similar enough for you the recognize, but everything was so wrong.

Oh—

And the icing on the cake?

Apparently, you went back in time roughly three years. At least that’s what the dates on the news suggested. They also implied that you were nearing the end of summer when you knew for a fact that spring had only just sprung.

So, again, you wanted to believe that the hotel you were staying at was the cause for all of your confusion. However, you knew damn well that wasn’t the reason why everything was screwed up and backwards.

It wasn’t like you could just turn around and ignore the situation that had unfolded all around you, so you opted into delving deeper into the chaos. If you wanted to understand what was going on, you’d have to do some digging into what the new ‘status quo’ was.

How many villains were now considered heroes and vice versa?

You began by searching for the first thing that caught your eye since arriving at the hotel, Chisaki Kai’s arrest. One of the first articles you selected saved you some time by answering a few of your burning questions. You didn’t have to read very far before you were introduced to a prominent villain organization. It was like the universe wanted to rub it in your face that nearly all the people who had worked alongside you for years were no longer considered the heroes.

Skimming over the rest of the article confirmed more of what you suspected. The villains you remembered fighting when infiltrating the yakuza’s hideout played the roles of heroes instead.

Your next search was ‘the League of Villains.’

There were several public databases that listed all of the members’ names, quirks, photos, and any other information gathered on them. Your frown deepened as you scrolled through one of them. You recognized your old friends immediately. Toga looked like she was back in high school, but the uniform she was wearing didn’t belong to UA. Spinner’s outfit was also the only thing really different about him.

Touya, though…

Touya looked so different, you couldn’t tell it was him at first. His hair was no longer white and fluffy, and the horrifically burned skin that hung onto his face by a handful of staples was a new addition. At least his eyes were the same. The only reason you didn’t scroll past him was because his quirk was listed beneath his name—a name which did nothing to help you identify him.

Dabi.

Not once had you ever heard him be referred to as that.

You paused once got to Magne. Within the extra information on her profile was a statement proclaiming her deceased. You shouldn’t have been terribly surprised to read that. You knew Magne was killed in an altercation with Chisaki. Though her role in society was different, it seemed her fate remained the same.

However, your heart grew light as you read the information under Jin. He was alive. It made sense considering the war was still on the horizon at this point, so you shouldn’t have gotten as excited as you did. But it was years since you last saw him. You scrolled back up to revisit Touya’s profile to see he hadn’t died yet either.

If they were both still alive and well, that would mean that Tenko…

You flew down the rest of the list to find him. You completely scrolled past Astuhiro and Muscular and that mustard gas kid that ended up flunking out of his internship. You didn’t even spare a glance at profiles containing people you didn’t recognize. You reached the end of the page, but there was nothing on Shimura Tenko.

But just below some guy with a mop of light blue hair was a profile that you were certain belonged to you . You were listed under your hero name instead of your real one, and your quirk was also described to a T. Your age was estimated, but it was pretty close, and, in the photo they had of you, your face was almost entirely obscured by a mask.

Out of pure curiosity, you looked up your name next. The very first result made your hair stand on end. It wasn’t a link to another article, but a picture. In this one, your face was clear as day, but what caused you concern were the bold red letters above your head, spelling out ‘MISSING.’

A frenzied few minutes of scanning article after article on your apparent disappearance gained you only a minimal amount of information. The most notable was that the last time you were seen was just before Chisaki’s hideout was infiltrated. You could recall you were pretty messed up from that fight after one of the yakuza members nearly killed you with a moving pillar.

This time around, however, no hospitals reported taking you in as a patient. It was entirely possible that—if you were a ‘villain’—you were taken to one of the underground medical facilities instead. Hospitals that helped criminals and kept it confidential were far and few between, but it was no secret that they existed.

That was your best guess as to where this version of you could be. That fight had rendered you bedridden for weeks, so the timing added up.

With that somewhat squared away, the last thing you looked up was Tenko. According to everything else you’d seen, he should still be alive, but the results of your search proved you to be quite wrong in that assessment.

They all dated back 18 years—well 15 years if you were going off the date circled on the receptionist’s calendar—and reported on a ‘terrible accident’ that resulted in the death of the entire Shimura household. Officials believed it to be due to a villain attack, but there was no hard proof of anything due to the nature of the incident.

Everything you read made your blood run cold and your heart felt as though it was being constricted. They had invited you to countless family dinners and holidays. Their house was still standing, you knew that for a fact. There was no way they could all be dead.

That never happened. Those articles were bullshit. Everything you’ve seen in the last 24 hours was bullshit .

You didn’t know why everything was so backwards and messed up, but you knew that none of it was real. You were experiencing some sort of delusion, likely caused by that villain you got caught up with last night. Having more than one quirk was rare, but everything started going wrong after your brief altercation.

You had no clue how long your situation would last, but your best bet was to find him and make him put an end to it. You figured it could be a while until everything went back to normal considering you had no idea as to where he could be. When pursuing a villain with a quirk like his, you needed to be prepared to play the long game.  

Your dishes nearly clattered to the ground as you haphazardly bussed your table.

It was time for a day out on the town. The last time you went on a shopping spree had to be when you were moving into your apartment a year ago, and that was only because you had to get the ‘necessities’ for basic living. Silverware, shower curtains, and what have you. It was mostly due to lack of energy and motivation that you shut yourself away with the same pair of sweats until you wore holes in the thighs.

With confusion and panic rattling around your head, the adrenaline was fueling you into productivity. Even if it didn’t last the whole day, it could at least get you to the shopping district. You needed an outfit or two that didn’t have you repping a guy who felt no remorse for blowing out people’s eardrums.

A toothbrush and toothpaste would also be nice.

The commute was shorter than you expected, but you weren’t complaining. After you got everything you needed, you planned on connecting with any hero agencies that weren’t villains in disguise. Your fingers were crossed at least one or two of those still existed. If all else failed, you’d call the cops or something.

As you walked out of the train station, you checked your bank app to see what kind of price limit you’d need to put on yourself for the day. You were a successful hero, but your industry didn’t have the funding like it used to. Even though your pay wasn’t bad, you still needed to be on top of budgeting.

You felt your stomach twist from the surprisingly small number looking back at you. Your checking account was at a fraction of what it should be. There was no way you spent that much since your last paycheck. Sure, you ordered a lot of delivery, but that could hardly break the bank. You checked your transactions to find your hotel room deposit had already processed along with several other purchases you couldn’t recall making.

On top of everything else that was happening, of course your bank account would get hacked. You probably swiped your card through one of those tapped readers, and now some basement dweller was going to town with your money.

You suppressed a heaving groan as you put away your phone and changed your first stop to the ATM machine that was conveniently down the block. Whoever was using your money should only have access to your checking account. However, when you went to transfer money over to withdraw as cash, you noticed your savings was also significantly depleted. You groaned and took out as much money as you could, leaving nothing left for the freeloader.

The shopping district was bustling with people, some shoving past each other around to get where they needed to go while others wandered aimlessly as they window shopped. The thought of fighting your way through a crowd was enough to sap away a good bit of your energy. Yet you still had enough to dive your way into the pool of people.

Instant regret.

You were jostled around like pinball as you pushed forward, cursing at every elbow and shoulder that jabbed into you. As long as you could make it to even one clothing store, you would be satisfied. Once you bought what you needed, you’d run for the hills.

A rough hand wrapped around your neck just when you thought you’d found a way through. It held you in place, frozen as people swarmed around you. Instinctually, your hands flew up to grasp at it and pull yourself free, but it only tightened as a result. You winced as you attempted to look over your shoulder to see who your assailant was with no success.

“Stay quiet or I won’t think twice about killing you,” the person growled, his words hot against your ear. His thumb dragged up your throat until it met the edge of your jaw. “I suggest the next time you steal someone’s identity you should at least have a basic understanding of their ideals.”

Your stomach lurched at the sound of the man’s voice. It was both familiar and foreign.

“What are you talking about?” you asked in a harsh breath. Again, you tried to look back at the man, but his hand tightened around your throat to hold your head in place.

“Don’t be stupid. She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a garbage t-shirt like that,” he hissed. His face was so close you could feel your hair shift as he spoke.

You looked around, trying to catch the eye of any passerby, but no one spared a glance at you. They just shifted around you and went on with their business.

For a hero, you weren’t a big fighter. Your quirk had more strategic uses, none of which helped much with physical altercations. If anything, it was best used for defense. In the scenario you were currently stuck in, it would be minimal help. Freezing the clothing of the man behind you would further trap you in his grasp.

“I mean, it wasn’t my first choice, but I didn’t have many options,” you strained out. If you couldn’t wiggle your way out of this ordeal, you’d have to rely on whatever charisma you had left in you. “It beats me why a place would sell clothes that rep some of the worst people in today’s society.”

“Are you trying to be convincing?” He put pressure on the back of your neck, forcing you to start moving forward. “You didn’t even recognize me last night. It only takes the bare minimum amount of research to at least get that right.”

Last night?

You ran into a bunch of people. You couldn’t be certain which one he was.

“I was a bit preoccupied last night. Maybe if you actually let me see you, I’d know who you were—”

He twisted your head around to face him.

You weren’t expecting him to be the young man from the convenience store. The woman he was with had behaved strangely, but he didn’t seem to think twice about you from what you could recall.

You scoured your brain for any hint of where you would know him from. Once again, he was wearing a mask to obscure his face. His complexion was unfamiliar, but…

His voice.

You knew his voice from somewhere. You knew it right away, but you couldn’t put your finger on where it was from. Your eyes bore into his as if they would tell you.

The corner of your lips fell along with your heart. You wished you could say you found your answer, but that would contradict all the articles you read.

His voice was raspier than you remember, as if he was sick, and the skin condition around his eyes took over a larger portion of his face. Despite that, it was undeniably him.

“Tenko?” you whispered, leaning closer to him as his grip around your neck became noticeably weaker.

His eyes went wide as his head jerked back slightly. “How—”

“Oh my god.” Your throat grew tight of your own accord. You swiped at your eyes as your vision began to blur.

Were you really seeing clearly?

Was any of this even real?

You didn’t care. If all of this was a build up to a dream, you hoped it would last forever.

“Oh my god,” you cried. He stumbled back as you threw yourself against him. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his neck. You clung to him like your life depended on it. It felt too real to be a dream.

His body was stiff as he looked down at you, alarmed. “What are you—”

“How are you here?” you choked out before leaning back to look at him. “How are you here ?!”

He glanced around at the people who had begun staring at the two of you. Grabbing a fistful of your shirt, he hauled you out of the crowd.

You pushed away from him, taking several steps back. Your hands dragged up your face and through your hair as your eyes darted around your surroundings. Hot tears were streaking down your cheeks.

“What is happening ?” you sobbed.

♡ ♡ ♡

➨ Chapter Three

taglist: @boogiemansbitch @multisstuff

[schmergo]

My mom gave me this chocolate London kit for Christmas and I finally decided to use it as sort of a tongue-in-cheek Fourth of July activity. I love my mom and I don’t think she meant to psychologically torture me, but this experience lowkey led me down a true long dark night of the soul and then utterly broke me. Follow my slow mental unraveling below.

I should add that I am bad at crafts and once got gorilla glue all over my hands while fixing a child’s display-only gingerbread house and spent Christmas break with a hard translucent shell on both hands gradually flaking off over the course of a week, so a fair amount of this may be user error. But also the box says this is for ages 6+ and I’m over 5 times that, so maybe they could have done a wee bit more handholding.

Anyway, here’s my journey, which should absolutely be read in the tone of Jonathan Harker’s letters in the beginning of Dracula.

The first hint that something was wrong happened when I melted the chocolate according to instructions and the next step said to pour it into the molds. The chocolate was not really the “pouring” kind. It was a chunky sort of paste that I had to spoon in. The molds filled unevenly and clumpily and at this point, I asked my husband if he’d let me try to assemble the rest of this on my own because I think I can tolerate my failure better if nobody else witnesses it.

The instructions also cavalierly said to save a “handful” to use as mortar for the chocolate tower.

How much is a handful? A Schmergo-sized hand or a husband-sized hand or what? I have very small hands for an adult, but this is for ages 6+ after all. I opted for a Schmergo-sized handful. I would live to regret that.

I chilled the pieces in the fridge for 20 minutes as directed, then popped them out of their mold. To my surprise, they actually didn’t look THAT bad.

Looking at the pieces of Big Ben that I had to assemble, I became acutely aware that there weren’t detailed instructions on how to fit them together other than just “put them together” and no actual photographs of a real person doing it. The wall pieces were still unnervingly floppy and I decided to freeze them in hopes of hardening them while I focused on the clock itself.

In addition to Big Ben, the kit came with a chocolate taxi and a chocolate double-decker bus. The taxi popped out slightly distorted but in a way I liked, with playful Toontown vibes. But the double-decker bus was still mushy and fudgelike, warping and rippling alarmingly as I tried to push it out of the mold. I opted to put it in the freezer, too, along with the walls of Big Ben.

The instructions said to use the melted remaining chocolate to stick the pieces together and to apply it by sticking my finger in it and rubbing it on. It did not mention that, even after letting the chocolate cool, the warm melted chocolate would make the details of the pieces of the chocolate you’re sticking together start to melt, too.

I began to wonder if this kit had ever been formally tested by anyone and if the instructions were written by AI, like that Google search result that suggests adding Elmer’s glue to your shredded cheese when making pizza to keep it from sliding off.

Nothing can prepare you for how bad the clock part looked, so I’m just going to let you deal with it cold turkey. Et voila.

As I cemented my terrible melted clock together, it occurred to me that I’d have a lot more fun if I really leaned into the ominous post-apocalyptic energy of the abomination before me.

What if this was the result of some kind of whimsical Doctor Who villain— or maybe The Unknown from that infamously bad immersive Willy Wonka experience— transforming major London landmarks into chocolate… during a heat wave?

How will will the new Prime Minister Keir Starmer deal with this on his first day in office?

I yelled to my husband in the adjacent room, “Maybe I’m just turning into the Joker, but this is starting to feel more funny than depressing!”

“Mr. Starmer, a second chocolate vehicle has hit Big Ben.”

The bus actually came out pretty well!

Trying to fit together the pieces of the walls would have been maddening if I hadn’t already been driven mad by the clock portion. The pieces didn’t actually fit together quite right, they were still slightly floppy, and the instructions said— after I was in blood stepped so far that should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o’er— that I was supposed to use ELASTIC BANDS to hold together the tower walls while the chocolate was cooling.

The kit didn’t come with elastic bands and I don’t have any in my house except for scrunchies with my gross hair stuck to them, and I’d already come this far, so I decided to forge onward. Then a piece snapped off.

Honestly, this rules, no notes:

I did it, but at what cost? I don’t know much about British politics, but this feels like a poignant commentary on the current state of affairs or something. Should I submit this to the Tate Modern?