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yohanseyebrowmole · 1 day

Text

Indelible | Jacaerys Velaryon

(adj. impossible to erase or forget)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Sum: Jacaerys realises he should have listened to you and told everyone about the two of you too late...

Or was it too late?

or in which

Jacaerys breaks up with you two years after secretly dating you, and you get wind of his potential engagement to your cousin the heir to your family's company.

Word count: 3,692 (give or take:/ I edited it and wasn't bothered to recheck the wc)

Warnings: idk nothing much. I tried to avoid using y/n but ended up using it like thrice (I think)

a/n: Reader's mother is the second child of a huge businessman and took on her husband's name upon marriage, but has business ties (her maiden name is Dayne but its not a big deal). Reader's father is a well-respected lawyer but it's not relevant. Jace is heir to the Targaryen family business. He's a little slow and doesn't connect dots until later on lol.

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☆ Loving Jacaerys Velaryon was easy.

Keeping the fact that you loved him a secret was the hard part.

Two years.

For two years, you loved Jacaerys, and now you are hearing that his family was actively trying to set him up with your cousin.

What’s worse is that it makes perfect sense for them to get together.

Jacaerys is set to inherit the family company from his mother and your cousin is set to inherit your family's company from your uncle.

Why did he want to keep your relationship a secret in the first place? You didn't know, but you respected his decision nonetheless.

But two years of not being able to tell anyone?

You wanted to tell your parents and your older brother, you wanted to gossip with said cousin about your relationship, but Jace remained steadfast in his decision not to tell anyone.

He probably got fed up with you asking to become public and broke up with you, at least that was what you originally thought.

Two years of dates and I love you's gone just like that, all because Jace wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were tired of not being able to tell anyone.

You had no interest in your mother's family company to be honest. No care for business or the likes, your interest is and will always lay within anthropology.

You loved it.

It was the perfect balance of history, science and mystery and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved a good mystery.

You loved the drama and the slight chaos whenever you got called in, and they say they found a body and having to find out what happened to it.

What was their story? What were they like? What was their life like? How did they end up like this?

Sometimes, it was a simple burial. Sometimes, it was an accidental death.

The murders were always the most interesting.

Of course, as an intern, you were usually not always assigned to the murder cases, but you always accepted any that came your way.

You loved the hunt, your curiosity always getting the best of you and the sense of relief, pride and justice that filled you once you found the identity of who was lying in front of you and who was responsible for it was always worth it.

You loved finding clues that helped catch the one responsible for the person's death, and being able to give families closure after their loved ones went missing was rewarding to you.

Yes, it was confronting and disgusting at times like the time a body was found at the landfill and you had to sift through weeks of rubbish to find missing bones (you were sure you would never be able to smell anything other than rotten food ever again) but you loved it regardless.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You were once again sitting in the library at your corner.

It was one of your favourite spots on campus.

The window provided a perfect distraction when she needed a little break from her work. It was far enough from the other tables that no one bothered her but close enough that she could watch people go about their day when she was bored.

The shelfs also obscured their line of view of the table giving you privacy was always an added bonus.

“Having fun, pretty girl?”

You blink, shifting your gaze away from the window where you had been watching what seemed to be a very heated fight between a couple. You smile at your boyfriend.

“Hey,” You said. “You're here earlier than normal.”

Jace sits down next to you, letting his bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor.

“Finished early.”

“You look tired,” you said, taking note of the light dark circles under his eyes.

“Cause I am,” Jace groans, leaning into you. He practically shoves his face into the crook of your neck.

You shift sideways so he can rest his head comfortably and run your hand through his hair gently undoing any notes made from the wind outside.

“You should go home and sleep if you're tired, Jace.”

“Don’t wanna,” Jacaerys responds, not bothering to move his head from the crook of your neck. “Just wanna be here with you.”

You can’t help the upward tug of your lips.

“Careful Velaryon, someone might assume that you're obsessed with me.”

Jace huffs out a laugh, finally lifting his head and sitting back.

“They would assume correctly. What are you doing later?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug. “But it seems like you know what I’m going to do.”

Jace grins, grabbing his bag from the floor and digging around it before pulling out two tickets. “You are going to go visit that new exhibit at the museum with me.”

“You got tickets?" You can't hide your excitement. "How? I tried getting them for weeks but they were sold out, I even asked mum if she could pull some strings.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Jace smiles. "You were going to ask your mum to get you tickets?"

You shrug lightly, grabbing the tickets from him, inspecting them before you all but throw yourself at him, hugging him. You pull away but grab one of his hands intertwining your fingers with his.

Jace nods along to your random facts about Egyptian history as he watches your eyes light up as you giggle and ramble on about the exhibit, squeezing your hand, bringing it up to his lip and kissing the back of it.

You barely react to the affection, already gotten used to the gestures and continue talking about Ramesses the great and his military accomplishments.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Your first thought was that it was your fault.

Clearly, you must have done something wrong for Jace to break up with you.

You rack your brains for weeks afterwards to try and figure out what you've done wrong, but as you sit there in your little corner of the library, you realise you've done absolutely nothing wrong.

So then you wonder, why would he break up with you?

Was it because you brought up the fact of a public relationship more often than not these days? Did he suddenly think you weren’t pretty enough? Or were you and your random rants now annoying to him?

The tip of the pencil you had been using to draw snaps.

You thought it would be easy to get over him. After all no one knew you two were together so you weren't getting constant pity glances.

Turns out it was harder. Way harder.

You didn't have anyone to rant to, no one to lean on or cry to and you were practically at the end of your patience, about to call your brother and spill everything to him when you heard someone call your name.

"Oh my god finally!"

You turn only to be met with your best friend Baela, who coincidentally was also Jace's cousin. You smile at her, forcing yourself to push your previous thoughts to the back of your mind.

"What's got you so excited?" You ask her.

She plops down on the seat next to you.

“Why are you so hard to find?”

You laugh. “I’m always here Baela. You know that.”

She rolls her hands before leaning forward. You notice the glint in her eyes. Mischief. Her eyes were basically the same as Jace’s aside from the colour difference.

“It’s Jace,” she said. “Mum told me that Aunt Rhae was trying to set him up with Elise Dayne.”

You freeze slightly. “What?”

“I know! I was shocked as well!” Baela smiles, not realising the bombshell she had just dropped on you.

“Elise Dayne?”

Baela nods and rambles on about how she had seen Elise and Jace on a date the other day and how cute they had looked together. You smile and nod along but all you can think about was this was why he broke up with you.

Baela leaves to go to class but only after after telling you everything.

She leaves and you sit there for what felt like hours trying to wrap your head around what she had told you.

Jacaerys had broken up with you only to get together with your cousin.

You gather your things and walk to your car.

With your hands on the wheel you scream before you start laughing.

The laugh turns into choked out sobs as you let yourself cry for the first time since Jace left you.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Seeing Jacaerys walk into your family home with his family had not been in your plans for tonight.

Frankly, if you had known this very important and must not miss family meeting was to officially announce his engagement to your cousin, you would have accepted that case on the unknown skeleton they found last week or gotten your professors to make something up so you could have an excuse not to turn up.

Instead, here you are, forced to stand and watch Jace smile and greet your cousin and her parents.

You stand in a corner next to your brother, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in slight annoyance.

You can tell the exact moment Jacaerys notices your presence.

You send him an overly sweet smile and watch him falter, confusion and something else flashing in his eyes before he blinks and puts his mask back up, turning and shaking your mother’s hand.

He had always been good at that, pretending that nothing was bothering him.

Your mother smiles and turns to you and your brother. Your brother nudges you, and you quickly plaster a pleasant smile on your face.

“This is my daughter and my oldest.”

Your brother shakes Jace’s hand and introduces him. Jacaerys turns his attention to you.

“Hi,” you smile, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

You watch him gulp, smile and greet you back.

You keep your distance and stay quiet the entire time the two families eat. You know your brother has noticed because he keeps sending you odd looks, but you brush them off, not bothering to pay him any mind or explain your current predicament to him.

What does bother you is Jace.

He keeps looking over at you, most of the time it’s short glances but sometimes you can feel his gaze boring into the side of your head as you answer the questions his brothers, Lucerys and Joffery ask about your degree, his mother occasionally asking a few of her own.

You make sure to keep your answers brief. Your degree was hardly dinner conversation, and you didn't want anyone's dinner resurfacing in any way.

You make sure to turn to him and give him a smile. He snaps out of his daze every time, blinking a couple of times before tuning back into whatever your cousin was talking about.

At some point in the night, you get up, telling your brother you needed to get something from your room.

You don’t notice Jace’s eyes following you as you walk away, and you sure as hell don’t hear him excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

You startle slightly as you feel someone grab your wrist. You don’t even need to turn around to realise who it was.

The soft scent of sandalwood tells you enough.

“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen the both of you before pulling him into your room.

Jace looks around, taking in his surroundings.

He can’t really help it. It was the first time he had been in your room. He notices the photo wall full of polaroids you told him about making and the string of fairy lights you had bought together after convincing him to go shopping together.

“I didn’t know you were related to her,” Jace said.

“I told you who my mother was,” you scoff. “It was pretty fucking obvious Jace.”

Neither of you notice the person standing by the door, listening in on the conversation through the slight crack.

“Well you could have straight up told me,” Jace argues.

“You're arguing with me because I didn’t give you my mother’s government name? Are you serious? I told you her name, where she worked and what she did. I even told you she was helping coordinate that joint event with your mother! I couldn’t have been more obvious, it’s not my fault you couldn’t put two and two together!”

Jace opens and closes his mouth. It's not like she was wrong.

“This,” you whisper. “This is why you broke up with me? If you had known, would you have stayed? Would you have let me tell everyone that we dated?”

Jace winces at your harsh tone but otherwise stays silent, giving you your answer.

“I can’t believe you.”

“You think I wanted this?” Jace said. “You think I knew my parents were gonna set me up with her?”

“Clearly you did since you refused to tell anyone about us.”

“That’s not -”

“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Just don’t.”

You sigh and shake your head.

“You need to go. Leave first, and then I can follow after a couple of minutes.”

Jace grabs your hand before you can push him towards the door. “Wait, just -”

“You need to go,” you repeat. “If you haven’t noticed your fiancé-to-be is down the hall along with the rest of my family and we both have better things to do then stand here and argue over a topic we already know our stance on. Also, I have somewhere I need to be.”

With that, you pull your hand away from his and walk away. He follows you into the hallway, hears you say bye to your family, and watches you turn to leave.

Fuck.

How was he going to fix this?

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Looking back on it, Jacaerys really didn't know how he didn't put two and two together.

He had met your mother on numerous occasions considering that she worked with his mother for joint events and whatnot.

You were practically a carbon copy of your mother as well.

The hair, the eyes, the intellect. Everything about you screamed Dayne and his stupid brain couldn’t piece together the fact that you were related.

How the fuck did he not know?

All those times when you had told him your mother was away on business and he had commented that his mother was gone as well.

He groans, running a hand down his face.

Rhaenyra, who had been standing by the doorway for the past five minutes watching her son have what looked like a mental breakdown, finally decides to make her presence known.

It was time to talk some sense into her son.

“Jace.”

“Mother.”

“Can I come in?” His mother asks.

Jace nods and she walks into the room.

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she questions. “Luke is complaining about your constant groans.”

Jace normally would have laughed but all he can do is sigh.

“What’s wrong, Jace?” his mother asks again.

“I messed up,” Jace mutters. “Really bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

His mother nods, walking forward and sits beside him on the bed.

“Why don’t you tell me everything so I can help?”

Jace looks at her, hesitates for a moment before the flood gates open, and he tells her everything.

He tells her about how you two met, about your first date, about how he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, and you had been okay with that for a while.

He tells her how he broke up with you because she wanted him to get together with your cousin.

He doesn’t leave anything out, and his mother just sits and listens to everything.

When he’s done she stays quiet.

“Jace,” she asks softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jace forces himself to hold back the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t -” he shakes his head. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to lose her, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”

Rhaenyra reaches out and holds his hands.

“If I had known you loved someone like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have set you up. I would never deny you your happiness. Even if she wasn’t what I envisioned for you, I wouldn’t have made you leave her, Jacaerys.”

His bottom lip wobbles. “What do I do now?”

Rhaenyra smiles and whips away a stray tear from his cheek.

“Jace?”

He hums.

“Do you like her?”

“What?”

“Do you like her?”

“I love her,” Jace said. “A lot.”

His mother smiles. “Then what are you doing here?”

He stays quiet, blinking at his mother.

“If you love her, why aren’t you with her?” His mother said. “Go get her back, Jace. If you love her, fight for her.”

Jacaerys stands up quickly and nods. He grabs a jacket from his chair and is gone the next second.

Rhaenyra watches him leave shaking her head with a soft smile.

That foolish boy.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You were on campus, specifically at the building where your professors kept the unidentified bodies that had been sent over after being found.

You weren't allowed to have phones near the workstations or the bodies and even if you were you would have never bothered to bring it up with you.

Who in their right mind wants to touch their phone with people juice on their hands, regardless of whether or not you were wearing gloves?

Not to mention that you would have kept having to change your gloves as well, and that would do your head in.

Your phone was in your bag, which in turn was in your personal locker outside, which meant you had no idea that Jacaerys had been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour.

You had no idea that he was calling you or texting you to ask for your whereabouts.

Luckily for him, you were slightly predictable.

You had just finished writing down your notes for the Jane Doe in front of you and making sure her bones were locked away and secure.

You swiped your student card into the security slot, and the doors outside opened. Smiling and waving to the security guards stationed outside the lab, you grabbed your bag from the the opposite wall, holding the lockers.

You push open the door and stop short.

It was raining, because of course it was.

You put your notes in your bag and started walking to your car, which was conveniently parked at the far end of the parking lot.

You had been too busy re-reading and protecting your over your notes while speed-walking to your car to realise that Jacaerys had been waiting outside waiting for you.

You couldn’t hear him call your name over the sound of the rain.

When the rain suddenly stops falling on you, you look up only to be met with the slight of an umbrella.

You turn confused and are met with a panting Jacaerys.

“You walk really fast,” he said, slightly bent over as he caught his breath.

You just stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

He stands up straighter.

“Uh, I came to apologise.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Jace said. “For everything. I’m sorry for being stupid and not putting two and two together. For keeping us a secret and breaking up with you. I’m sorry.”

“Where is this coming from?” you question.

“I came to a realisation,” Jace answered. “I can’t live without you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“I hate the fact that we aren’t together anymore. I hate the fact that I didn’t tell anybody we were together,” Jace said. “I hate being away with you. I hate not being with you. I hate not being able to hold and tell you I love you every day. I’ll do better this time. I swear it.”

“Careful Velaryon,” you say, stepping forward. “People could assume you are obsessed with me.”

Jace’s lips tug upwards, and he nods, closing the gap between the two of you completely, leaning down.

“They would assume correctly.”

The world around the two of you fades into the background as he leans forward, his lips brushing against yours.

The air around the both of you seemed to warm. You don’t know who leans in first, and you don’t care.

All you cared about was the fact that Jacaerys was kissing you again. That he was yours again.

Your eyes flutter close as your lips meet, and the umbrella protecting the two of you from the rain drops to the floor as he pulls you closer.

You don’t register that you drop your bag to hold onto his collar and pull him even closer.

You could have sworn lighting flashed through the sky as your lips met, but maybe that was you imagining things. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him.

Those sparks when your lips touched his, that feeling of something more.

Of something real.

Your heart skips a beat

“You know you’re stuck with me forever now right?” Jace said as he pulled away smiling.

You laugh and Jace sees that familiar sparkle of light in your eyes. The ones that remind him of stars.

“I think it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

He grins leaning in to kiss you again. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you smile into the kiss.

A particularly cold and harsh gust of wind coupled with the booming sound of thunder breaks the moment and you shiver.

Jace goes to pick up the umbrella that had fallen. Luckily, the wind hadn't carried it too far off.

Your eyes follow him before they fall on your wet bag on the floor. The bag that had your notes. The bag that held the notes that you had been painstakingly working on for the past few hours.

You scream, causing Jace to jump.

“You little shit! You made me drop my notes! I take it back! I hate you!”

Jacaerys laughs as you pick up your bag and hit him with it. He runs away as you chase him in the rain, cursing him out for letting you ruin your notes.

You really wouldn’t have it any other way.

Well, except maybe with dry notes.

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Thank you to my bby girl @icarusignite for pre-reading this and thirsting over Jace to an almost unhealthy degree with me ily<3

Go read her fics or else (this may or may not be a threat)

Written by Yor <3

#yor<3 #yorspage #yorsfics #yorsworks #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon #jace x reader #jace velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #hotdfanfic #hotd jacaerys #jace targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #hotd x you #fanfic

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paper-mario-wiki · 6 hours

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hey so …question.

i was raised male. biologically female. it’s for very greek hero reasoning, i promise. nothing boring ever happens in my family.

i don’t want to be male. i want to be female. would it be appropriate to call myself a trans woman? it’s something i like using…but i don’t want to appropriate or anything.

hmmm

"trans" is a modifier word, right? that's why it's important to leave a space in "transwoman", because there's no such thing as a entity that is a "transwoman", there is only "a woman that is trans". i consider myself to be a woman. i often say "trans woman", but only because i usually like to describe myself as accurately as possible.

the meaning in the word "trans" is from the relevant change made in one's life. being raised as a boy, i never had anyone teach me to do my makeup, or to put on a dress. during thanksgiving and christmas i was never expected to be in the kitchen with all my sisters and aunts, because that wasn't seen as my responsibility. i don't know how to braid my hair-- i didn't even know how to tie a ponytail for the longest time. all of these things are things i've had to learn as an adult in order for me to start fitting into the social expectations of womanhood. those things are what i'd consider to have been the bulk of the effort in my "transition" so far, and none of them are biological.

if we are going by the bio-essentialist argument (that is to say, the taxonomic origins of the terms "trans man" and "trans woman"), then i'd say "no, you cant use it, because you are biologically female". but then, what's the point of being supportive of trans people if we're still capitulating to the standards of qualification the people oppressing us set?

can i use this reasoning to tell you empirically "yeah you can use this term"? i dont think so, but that's just because of how damn specific your situation is. i have very little knowledge about your actual life, so i dont know how much of a transition you'll have to make to start feeling comfortable as a woman. but hopefully this'll at least give you some perspective on figuring it out for yourself.

#anon

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genericpuff · 3 days

Note

What do you think about Reachel's new redraw?

I feel like the characters look good but the background is too gray compared to the original one 😕

It's pretty rough, ngl. Not even necessarily because of the art itself, but because it's not a panel she should have ever redrawn to begin with.

The whole point of that scene was to showcase Persephone bringing life into the Underworld, a place where only death existed, but in this redraw it completely lacks that messaging, resulting in a scene of Persephone and Hades simply hugging each other in the dark with very dead-looking foliage surrounding them.

On a structural level, the composition has gone from vertical to horizontal, giving us way too much empty space around them which, again, is failed by the background being so dull and lifeless; Persephone's somehow become even smaller; and worst of all (though I'm sure some people will think I'm overreacting) her hair isn't tucked up in Hades' arms anymore, it's just sort of falling perfectly over his shoulder as one solid goop of pink, strangely changing shape as if it's resting on something but there's clearly nothing there.

That said, my opinions should be taken with grains of salt because I also have a lot of personal beef with a redraw like this - that original panel was my phone background for like, 2 years, and the episode it came from is still one of my favorites of all time in spite of all the criticisms I now have of the series, with art that originally inspired me to want to learn how to draw like Rachel.

There's been a lot of evidence over the past year or so to suggest that Rachel has "fallen out of touch" with her own work and these redraws that she's been making lately feel like tangible proof of that. The context in which she created those original panels no longer exists so to try and redraw them fundamentally misses the point of why they were so iconic to begin with.

I can understand that feeling of falling out of touch with your own work, to the point of not even seeing the appeal of it yourself anymore, but that's all the more reason to keep moving forward, not back. The fact that she's still just muddling around with LO stuff despite announcing two more projects and seemingly not making any progress with either the TV show or Rachel Smythe Presents... it really does seem like she's stuck in limbo. The deadlines and contractual obligations aren't there to motivate her anymore, and while that may now have freed her from the burden of creating LO in such a cramped and unhealthy space - now being able to create it simply for herself - I think the years of working on it have definitely taken its toll on her ability to create the way she used to and so we're seeing those growing pains now.

The real bummer about it is that it's being celebrated as "growth" but it's about as much growth as the illustrated environment above - dead and bleak.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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meangirls-imagines · 2 days

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Hey! Can I request a Regina x Reader fic where Regina sees you talking to another girl who, in Regina’s opinion, is a wannabe of Regina. She’s somewhat touchy with you so of course Regina gets mad at you. You’re confused on why Regina is mad at you at first, which makes her angrier. You go to Gretchen for help. Then when you do know what it’s about, you spend the rest of the day grovelling at Regina’s feet until she decides to forgive you. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you how much of a Regina-wannabe the girl you were talking to is, though.

Wannabe Blondie

Summary: Regina's unwanted wannabe gets too close to you. Regina being Regina doesn't take to kindly to that. Thanks to Gretchen, you figure it out and grovel to your girl.

WARNINGS: suggestive, jealous Regina, aggressive Regina, fluff

Regina George was one in a million.

So she thought.

Until a girl named Ashley Cunningham showed up to North Shore.

Regina didn't have a problem with it. She was a changed woman who didn't get mad at petty things but things...changed.

Ashley started dressing like her, acting like her, duplicating her routines, etc..

Now, Regina loved her admirers but there was something...different about this. It was like she was trying to actively become Regina, which the original recipe herself was going to brush off.

Until the bitch decided to involve Y/N.

Y/N and Regina had been dating since Spring Fling their junior year, after everything happened. Regina had never been happier. Y/N treated her well, respected her, took care of her. The greenest flag a girl could be.

On Monday, Y/N had met Regina at the blonde's locker. Regina smiled as the girl approached, pecking her lips. "Hi sweetie. Ready to go?" Y/N smiled and sighed. "I wish I could, mama, but Mr. Rapp is having me tutor some sophomore girl."

Regina's brow furrowed. "Who?" Y/N thought for a second and then remembered.

"Some girl named Ashley Cunningham."

What. The. Fuck

Regina plastered on a fake smile. "Sounds great baby. Just come over when you're done?" Y/N smiled and nodded and kissed the blonde's cheek. "It won't be too bad."

It was bad. Very bad.

It seemed every time Regina wanted to hang out with Y/N, Ashley somehow, someway, always butted in.

"Y/N, I need help with these problems."

"Y/N, I don't get this."

And bless her girlfriend's heart. Y/N had always been oblivious, that's what took them so long to get together. As the days went on, Regina began to notice how Ashley adopted her mannerisms.

Pink on Wednesdays, doing her hair like Regina's, figuring out her perfume and buying it. It was creeping Regina out. But it was also pissing her off because there is only ONE Regina George.

The last day of this nightmare, Regina decided to pay her girl a visit during her last tutoring session with the spawn of Satan. She walked into the library and automatically saw Y/N and Ashley at a table. Y/N was overlooking Ashley's paper and Ashley seemed to be leaning closer and closer to Y/N.

Regina made her way over quietly. "Okay. Everything looks good. Just go give this to Mr. Rapp and you should be good to go." Ashley nodded and took the paper back.

"You've been such a godsend Y/N. How can I ever repay you?" Y/N shook her head. "Don't worry about it, just trying to help." Ashley draped herself over Y/N. "Please. I'll do anything."

Y/N uncomfortably moved out of the way. "Yeah, no. I have to get to Regina." Ashley scoffed. "Why have her when I'm right here?"

Regina decided to make herself known and speak up. "Because I'm better than you in every sense." Y/N smiled at the sight of her girlfriend but was met with a glare.

Ashley scoffed again. "Sure you are." Regina towered over the girl. "I know I am. Now leave."

Ashley scurried off, leaving Y/N and Regina alone. Y/N went to talk to Regina but was met with her ice queen stare and the blonde storming off and leaving.

What the hell?

The next day, Y/N was met with the cold shoulder. No kisses, hugs, affection of any sort. She was confused as to why so she went to the only person that would know.

Gretchen.

"She's mad at you."

Y/N sighed in frustration. "Yes, Gretchen. I'm aware. Can you tell me why? Instead of pointing out the obvious." Karen went to take a sip of her drink and Gretchen stopped it from going up her nose. "What were you doing all week? With who?"

Realization hit Y/N like a brick. Oh.

She had some groveling to do.

Regina was awoken from her daily after school nap to soft kisses being planted on her cheek and neck. She smiled softly.

"So you came to grovel, hmm?"

Y/N smiled softly against her neck. "Yeah, mama. I'm sorry for the past week. I was so focused on getting the tutoring done that I didn't even realize that I was neglecting you. I'm so sorry."

Regina turned over in Y/N's arms. "I forgive you, but don't let it happen again. Especially with that wannabe." Y/N smiled. "Wannabe?" Regina scoffed. "Like you didn't notice her trying to be me.

Y/N shook her head. "No?" Regina looked at her girlfriend incredulously. "She totally was. She copied my style, my hair, my mannerisms...you really didn't notice?" Y/N shook her head.

"There's only one Regina George and it's you. That's who I pay attention to."

And when Y/N came in Monday morning looking like a lovesick idiot walking with Regina, Ashley knew she lost.

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #regina george fluff #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024

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band--psycho · 1 day

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Zayne x Reader - Doctor Visits

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Doctors appointments, brief mentions of a blood test, mature themes towards the end

I do intend to write a Part 2 for this

L&DS Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist

“Thank you for checking in,” the receptionist at the hospital said with a polite smile, “Dr Zayne will be with you soon”

Your heart dropped at her words.

Dr Zayne?

“I think there must be some mistake?” You stated; trying to understand how you’re seeing Zayne for this appointment when 1) you didn’t book this appointment with him and 2) he was meant to be on holiday; at least that’s what he told you a few days ago when you last spoke to him.

“The doctor you booked to see is unavailable right now,” the receptionist clarified her focus shifting from the screen she’d been staring at for a few moments.

Obviously your unease must’ve been written all over your face because the receptionist followed her own words up with, “If you wish to wait until the doctor you originally booked in to see is available we can reschedule your appointment.”

You wanted to reschedule.

But you knew that you couldn’t.

The Hunters Association had very strict rules on keeping up to date with doctors appointments so that medical records could be kept accurate.

And recently you’d been so busy with missions and studying; that booking the appointment had completely slipped your mind, that was until Tara mentioned it a few days ago.

This was the last day you could have an appointment before you would be overdue on it.

Which although it wasn’t the end of the world, wasn’t exactly an ideal situation.

But neither was having Zayne as your doctor for this.

“It’s fine,” you reluctantly said, moving away from the receptionist's desk and taking a seat in the waiting area.

Zayne was your usual primary physician, he was the one that kept a vigilant eye on your heart condition and made sure that your blood pressure and everything else was okay.

And although this was just a routine doctor's appointment, knowing that Zayne was now going to be asking you private questions and listening to your answers, made you want to run out of the hospital eight that second.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Zayne, you did.

More so than you trusted anyone really.

And you knew that he would remain professional regardless of your answers.

But the truth was you were embarrassed; embarrassed to admit things that you hadn’t shared with anyone.

Things that you certainly didn’t ever think you’d have to admit to Zayne.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts, looking up you saw Yvonne standing in front of you, “Dr Zayne will see you now.”

You nodded briefly, giving her a small smile as you rose to your feet.

It was like your body was on auto-pilot, and you followed Yvonne straight to Zaynes office.

The nurse gave you a small nod, signaling that you could go in, before walking away down the hall.

You took a deep breath; your hand gingerly hovering over the door knob, wondering if you could attempt to make a last minute dash to the exit without anyone seeing.

The opportunity to do so was there, you could go now and no questions would really be asked.

Except Zayne would know that he was meant to see you today…and if you didn’t show up to your appointment, he’d start asking why.

And it would mean that you’d have to reschedule it for another day without knowing when the original doctor you booked in with would be free.

‘The sooner I go in, the sooner it’ll be done’ you thought to yourself, placing your hand on the door handle, pushing the door open and walking into Zaynes office.

“Y/n/n,” Zaynes stoic voice filled your ears, only raising your already heightened anxiety

‘Just breathe,’ you thought to yourself, turning to look at the doctor sitting behind a desk.

“Please have a seat,” Zayne continued, extending his hand slightly towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

You let out a shallow breath, attempting to compose yourself as you sat down in the chair opposite him.

“I apologise about that change to your appointment,” Zayne began; typing away on the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the computer screen.

“It’s okay,” you answered quietly, absentmindedly fidgeting with your hands as they laid in your lap.

“You seem nervous,” Zayne pointed out, glancing up at you over his glasses briefly, before turning his attention back to the computer.

His words made you aware of what your hands were doing; halting your fidgeting movements.

“You don’t need to be, this is just a routine appointment,” he assured you with a small smile; but his words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

~~~~~~

The questions started off normal, like “How have you felt since your last check up?”, “Have you had any new injuries from any recent missions,” etcetera, etcetera, and then they started to get a bit more private, a bit more personal.

Starting with, “Any irregularities in your menstrual cycle?”

“No,” you answered back finitely, making Zaynes eyes fall on you once again; but this time, he held your gaze.

He knew that you were lying.

And you knew that he knew.

The way in which you answered the question was an obvious giveaway.

But even without that, you knew Zayne would probably have sussed out that you were lying, he always knew.

“Y/n, it is key in these appointments for you to be honest with your doctor,” he reminded you softly, urging you to tell him the truth.

But you knew what your answer could imply; you were a week late, just one week and you knew that it was probably because of stress and exhaustion; not because of any other reason.

You knew your answer would open a door to more personal questions; but you also knew that you needed to tell Zayne the truth.

“I’m a week late,”

“I see,” he replied, turning back to his computer screen, for a brief moment you saw something in his eyes, a look of…hurt, you watched how his jaw tightened and he continued typing away on his computer, “and when was the last time you were intimate with someone?”

And there it was, the very question types of questions you were trying to avoid.

You knew what he was implying with his question.

His question was almost laughable, had you not been so embarrassed about the answer you knew you’d have to give, you probably would have laughed.

In truth, you could barely remember the last time you went on a date with someone, let alone the last times you were intimate with someone; and now you had to admit that to the very man who was part of the reason why.

You liked Zayne, as more than a friend… in all honesty, to you, no one else compared to him.

So even if you did have the time to date people, or be intimate with them, you wouldn’t because they weren’t Zayne.

Sometimes, you thought he held the same feelings for you,even though he’d never said anything to give you such an idea.

It was more in the way you caught him looking at you sometimes…with a look that not only made your heart skip a beat, but a look that made you wonder.

A look that made you wonder if he felt the same; or if it was just your hopeful heart messing with your mind.

“A year,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment fill your cheeks.

It was a year ago, with someone you met in a bar, one thing led to another and you ended up in their bed.

It was then that you realised how you truly felt for Zayne…because all you could do whilst you were being intimate with them, was imagine Zayne.

After that, you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet anyone else.

You didn’t want to.

Which is why you kept yourself busy with work; it stopped you from being able to think about your own loneliness too much.

Zayne said nothing in response to your answer; though you did notice his expression seemed to soften as he typed your answer up on your medical record sheet.

A few more questions and a blood test later and your appointment was over and you were following Zayne to the door to his office.

“I’m going to sign you off for a few days; so you can get some rest,” he said as he put his hand on the handle of the door.

“Zayne-” you attempted to argue back but he just shook his head, silencing your words, before you could even finish your counter argument.

“A few days of rest,” He repeated softly, though you knew by the look in his eyes that there was no use arguing with him.

“Understand?” His voice was just above a whisper but it was loud enough to send a small pleasurable shiver throughout your body.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how much of an effect he had on you by just whispering to you like this.

“Y/n,”

You hated your first name, so you always went by Y/n/n.

Hearing your full first name was unusual, no one called you it anymore; but it was especially unusual hearing it fall from Zayne's lips; though for some reason your name sounded good on his lips.

“Do you understand?” he asked again

You knew you shouldn’t have found his question as erotic as you did; it was a simple question, but the authority in his voice mixed with the way his eyes were burning into yours, made you feel very hot and tingly all of a sudden.

You were turned on...

You needed to play it cool, act like you perfectly fine, so you nodded in agreement.

Not daring to trust your voice at this very moment; not when you were this close to each other.

“Good,” was the last thing he said to you before opening the door, allowing you to walk out of his office.

You'd barely take a few steps away from his door before you heard it click shut behind you; it was only then you released a breath you hadn't been aware of holding as you replayed what just happened in your mind.

He was so close to you...so close...

'Stop it,' you mentally scolded yourself as you began walking down the hallway.

You passed the reception and left the hospital quickly, trying to think about what you were going to do with your now free days, instead of how much you wanted Zayne...

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @fangirlsfandomsss @book-dragon03 @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @princess-harvey @deathkat657 @comatosebunny09 @the-slytherin-poet @ladyparamount @ayatoq @cheesemachine44 @popcorn-mochi01 @thegalaxysedge22 @hotdogcookie

#zayne x reader #zayne imagines #zayne imagine #zayne x you #zayne x mc #lds zayne #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace imagine #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut

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cloudedgalaxies · 1 day

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ANYWAYS Idiyuu is Hades and Persephone conspiracy:

Persephone is not from the Underworld. She is called back to the Mortal Realm eventually because she has to return. Yuu is literally from another world. They are not suited to Twisted Wonderland, and are nothing like Idia has ever seen. They have to go back eventually.

Hades is probably one of the few TWST boys to have a “canon” spouse (at least in Greek mythology, which Hercules’ Hades is obviously based on). On top of that, Hades and Persephone is the love story between death and life, isolation and abundance, ending and rebirth. Idia is a gloomy, pessimistic boy who has been condemned to be the keeper of the Underworld. Yuu is a kind, gentle prefect who has been there to help and has helped everyone they know, again and again.

Night Raven College has been in a ‘winter’ for all of its history. Everyone is hostile to everyone, no one wants to cooperate or work together, and every single person there has some ulterior motive. In comes Yuu, who is a breath of fresh air. A new perspective. A new season. They bring ‘spring,’ showing people that they can bloom. They can harbor feelings that aren’t cruel. They can do things that aren’t harsh. And slowly, they start to thaw. Flowers of friendship and something gentler bloom. Yuu is there to help pull the boys from their darkest moments to see the light again. Idia is no exception.

I think that the way Book 6 was set up makes Idia and Yuu seem a lot more meaningful honestly, though I'm probably reading way too into things lol. Yuu originally goes to the Island of Woe to save Grim. They don’t particularly care much about what’s going on with Idia—they just want to get Grim back. But then later, once they realize what’s going on, they do. There isn’t much, if any, personal connection to Idia’s overblot like there was with all the others. Yuu doesn’t have to do anything to help. And yet, they still do. Even after Idia basically kidnapped Grim, they still help him. They still try to end his winter.

Persephone, in many forms of the myth, didn't originally go to the Underworld willingly. But eventually, she came to love Hades, and they were happy together. Idia and Yuu have no reason to care about the other at first. But they eventually do, after everything that happens and everything that brings them together.

Hades and Persephone are in a constant push and pull. Persephone has to leave because if she stays, winter will never end. She does not want to leave, because she loves Hades. Yuu has to leave Twisted Wonderland, because they have a home beyond it that they need to return to. And yet, they don't want to leave because they love Idia. Idia doesn't want them to go, because it finally feels like spring again. But the seasons have to continue in their cycle, so what can they do?

Also, I think it’s really funny and really beautiful how Idia and Yuu’s first meeting was probably the Ghost Marriage event. This guy who thinks he has 0 rizz ends up having to be saved by some strange new isekai'd student and their gang of potential suitors before he gets his first kiss and promptly dies afterwards. Idia, the boy surrounded by death, is saved by the prefect who seems to be giving everyone a new chance at life. Imagine how poetic it’d be if Yuu and Idia end up getting married in the end, except now neither of them are going to die and they have the rest of their new lives together. There will be winter, but there will also be spring. The cycle of seasons will continue, but flowers will always bloom. They will always return to each other.

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crystalpallette · 2 days

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little red riding hood but there's no hood and the big bad wolf is a cat and I don't think there's anything to ride in the forest and ringo could be littler so really it's just. red.

#puyo puyo #ringo ando #ecolo #necolo #i guess i can tag necolo separately lmao even if its the same chara #took part in the eppc drawpile n drew ringo! ive been wanting to draw something little red for such a long time #ever since i properly listened to drama 3-3 and clocked ecolo saying 'the uniform's nice but the dress is a nice change of pace!'#and i zoned in on it immediately. as someone given access to working hands i am able to draw ringo in more dresses and by god im doing it #(even if technically this is a blouse-skirt combo. shh)#also while coloring i tried to limit my palette as much as i could #so everything that shares a color is the same shade and all #much easier to color and it looks cool so win-win!#took artistic liberty with ecolo by making him grey instead of blue but such are the perils. of self-imposed limitations #i traded that out by making the green more blue to fit his original palette as opposed to ringo #(since she got the majority of first color decisions anyway)#anyway it was fun. i love drawing what i personally want to see and making it everyone else's problem

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br0kenangel · 19 hours

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃♡𝐠𝐬 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Plagued Aegon x Plagued Reader

Summary: you were no longer a human. You were a rat. Something for them to experiment on for their own sick pleasure. You hate everything. God why it's always happening to you? What did you do to deserve this? But just beside you is a man. A man who don't even know his name and yet he's so hopeful. As if he believes you gonna be save...

Warning: torture, unknown virus, abuse, amnesia.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. And yes I'm inspired by The Plague Dogs. Original gif by @kieraknightley. Hope you enjoy!

The door to her cell clanged open, and she was yanked from the remnants of sleep. Her eyes shot open, the same as every other day, staring at the blank, cold walls around her, the air thick with the smell of rot. The guards entered with heavy, careless footsteps, their faces hidden beneath gas masks, those black eyes like hollow pits staring back. Always covered, always distant.

She hated them. Every last one of them.

The guard threw a metal tray onto the ground by the door, the slop on it sloshing onto the filthy floor. He didn’t even bother looking at her. None of them did. She glared up at him, her hands clenched into fists by her side. It took everything in her not to spit on the tray, not to lash out. The heavy door of Egg’s cell creaked next to hers, and she could hear him scrambling up, his voice weak, hopeful.

“Thank you!” Egg’s voice was filled with too much sincerity for this hellhole. She could hear him thanking them every day, like a child grateful for scraps.

The guards only laughed. One of them stepped forward and kicked Egg’s tray, sending it flying into the dirt and filth. She heard Egg's soft gasp, the shuffle as he hurried to clean up the food. "Pathetic," one of the guards spat, his voice muffled by the mask. "Still pretending to be grateful. Like we give a shit."

She glared at them, her heart pounding in her chest. Bastards. All of them. Their mocking words, the way they looked down at her and Egg like they weren’t even human anymore, burned inside her. She pulled her knees to her chest, locking her jaw, refusing to touch the slop they'd left her. The smell alone made her stomach churn.

“You should be grateful,” another guard sneered, crouching just far enough from her reach, “for the food, for us keeping you alive. Without us, you'd be rotting by now.” His gaze flickered to Egg’s cell. “Or worse, like that freak over there.”

He stepped closer to the bars, his breath coming in harsh, shallow bursts behind the mask. She could feel his gaze on her, even if she couldn’t see his eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t want it? Worthless slut.” His voice was thick with contempt, the words dripping with that familiar venom.

Her jaw tightened. She could feel her pulse pounding in her head, the fury rising up through her like a storm. She wanted to lunge at him, rip the mask from his face, spit every hateful thing she’d ever thought right into his eyes. She wanted him to feel the same helpless rage she felt every single day.

But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Egg.

He was watching her, his food forgotten for a moment, his wide, innocent eyes filled with worry. He shook his head, just the slightest movement, like a silent plea for her to stay calm. To let it go.

Her breath hitched. The anger in her chest twisted, turned into something else. Something that left her feeling hollow.

She bit her tongue hard, tasted the iron of her own blood, and looked away.

The guard laughed, his voice harsh and brittle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, and then he was gone, his boots pounding away down the corridor.

They left eventually, their laughter echoing down the hallway. The door slammed shut behind them with a final, metallic thud. Her gaze lingered on the untouched tray in front of her. For a moment, she didn’t move. Just sat there, legs pulled tight against her chest, staring at the cold stone floor. Her heart was still beating too fast, the remnants of that anger still coursing through her veins like a poison.

Egg’s voice broke the silence. “It’s good today. Really good.” He was already eating again, his fingers picking at the slop, oblivious to the fact that it was barely fit for a stray dog. She could see him through the bars, see the way his face lit up at the smallest bite, the way he savored it like it was something real, something substantial.

Slowly, she dragged her own tray closer, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She poked at it with one finger, barely able to stomach the thought of even tasting it. The mush was cold, congealed. Bits of unidentifiable meat and vegetables floating in a grayish slop. It looked rancid. The smell alone was enough to make her sick. “You like this?” she muttered, glancing over at Egg, who paused with a piece of it halfway to his mouth.

He nodded eagerly, his pale eyes wide with that same, childlike innocence she never understood. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft, “it’s not so bad. Better than nothing.”

She stared at him, at the way he seemed almost happy, even with the bruises on his arms, even with his bald head and the rot creeping up his foot. He was breaking down, piece by piece, and still, he was grateful.

She sighed, pushing the tray toward the bars between them. “You want mine?”

His head snapped up, surprise lighting his face. “Really?” he asked, his voice full of that strange, childlike gratitude. “You’re sure?”

She pushed the tray toward him, not bothering to answer. What was the point? He’d take it anyway, with or without her permission. He always did. And part of her—despite herself—was glad for it. Glad that at least one of them could still find joy in something, no matter how small or disgusting.

She watching as he pulled it into his cell with a quiet, “Thank you.” He dug in, as if it were a feast, as if it were something worth eating.

She pulled her knees back to her chest, glaring at the wall across from her, feeling nothing but anger clawing at her insides.

She leaned her head back against the cold, rough wall of her cell, eyes half-lidded as she watched Egg devour the food like it was a feast. His thin fingers scraped at the last bits, collecting every crumb from the tray. She wondered, not for the first time, how he could still find joy in this place. This pit of cruelty, where people were thrown away like garbage, left to rot from the inside out. The scientists didn’t care. The guards didn’t care. No one cared. Yet here he was, thanking them for scraps like it meant something.

It didn’t make sense to her, but then again, nothing about him made sense.

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. The air in the cell was thick and sour with the scent of decay—her own body betraying her, just like his. Every day, the virus crept a little further into her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she would end up like the others. Bald. Rotted. Forgotten.

“Sir, I’ve been hearing things,” she had said, standing stiffly in front of her commanding officer’s desk, the cold metal of her dog tags brushing against her chest as she shifted her weight. Her voice had been careful, measured, though she could feel the unease creeping under her skin.

“Things?” he’d drawled, not even looking up from the reports in front of him. He was a big man, intimidating, with cold, flat eyes that never softened for anyone. The room had smelled of cigar smoke and sweat, suffocating in its familiarity.

“About the virus. The researchers—they’re talking about using humans now. They said they needed criminals for the tests. But these people—” she hesitated, trying to find the words, “they aren’t volunteers. They’re just taking them.”

He hadn’t flinched. Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face. Instead, his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk as he finally looked up at her. “And? They’re criminals. Who gives a damn what happens to them?”

She had stared at him, a knot of anger forming in her chest. “They’re still people, sir. They deserve—”

“They deserve nothing.” He had cut her off sharply, his eyes narrowing, his voice growing harder, more dangerous. “They’re trash. Nothing more. And if they die, then they die.” He laughed then, a hollow, humorless sound that made her stomach turn. “Good riddance.”

Her hands had curled into fists at her sides. “We should tell people, warn them. They could protect themselves, take precautions. It’s not right to keep this from them.” The words had left her mouth before she could stop them.

He had stood up so quickly the chair behind him scraped against the floor, his towering presence looming over her. The air had shifted, heavy with tension, with that familiar threat. And then—before she had even registered what was happening—his hand cracked across her face, the sting of it snapping her head to the side. Her skin burned where he hit her, but it was the coldness in his eyes that hurt more.

“You’re getting too comfortable, soldier,” he growled, stepping closer, so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat of his body pressing into hers. She had swallowed hard, trying to push down the panic rising in her throat. “You speak when spoken to. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

Her jaw clenched, but she had nodded, the sting of his slap pulsing on her cheek. He gripped her chin then, forcing her to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing the reddened skin he’d just struck. She had wanted to jerk away, to spit in his face, but she knew better. She’d learned better.

“There’s a good girl,” he cooed, his tone sickeningly soft as his hand moved down to caress her cheek, his thumb pressing too hard against her skin. Her stomach turned in disgust, but she stood rigid, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise. His face had been so close to hers, the distance between them shrinking until she could feel his breath on her lips. “You should know your place by now. I don’t need you thinking for yourself.”

Her skin had crawled at his touch, her heart hammering in her chest as she forced herself to stay still, to not flinch. His fingers were rough, calloused, every brush against her face a reminder of how powerless she was in that moment.

She had hated him. Hated every second of it, hated the way he looked at her, like she was nothing but a tool to be used, a piece of meat. And she had hated herself more for not pulling away, for not fighting harder.

God, I should have killed him there.

A scrape of metal on concrete pulled her back. Egg had pushed the empty trays toward the bars, wiping his hands on his tattered pants. He sat back against the wall of his cell, his legs folded beneath him, a small smile tugging at his lips. His feet, one of them wrapped in old bandages, were still raw and rotting, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Thank you for the food,” he said again softly, more to himself than to her. His voice always held that strange, gentle tone. It was like he lived in a different world from her—a world where hope still existed.

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The bile rose in her throat just thinking about it. There was no hope here. Only survival. And even that was slipping away.

The silence hung between them, broken only by the faint dripping of water somewhere deep within the prison. She could feel Egg’s eyes on her, could sense his need to say something, but she wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Not today.

She opened her eyes again, staring through the bars at Egg. His pale face was turned toward her, his wide eyes still full of that same, infuriating innocence.

“Do you think…” he began, his voice soft and hesitant, “do you think today could be the day?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What day?”

“The day they let us out,” he said, almost hopefully. “Maybe… maybe they’ll find my family. Maybe they’ll come for me.”

She stared at him, her lips pressed into a hard line. He’d said it before—many times. It was always the same fantasy. That somehow, someone would find him. That his wife and children would come through those doors and save him from this nightmare. It made her sick to hear it.

“They’re not coming,” she said flatly, her voice sharp enough to cut through his delusion.

Egg blinked, his smile faltering for a moment, but only for a moment. He recovered quickly, nodding as if he hadn’t heard her. “I know,” he whispered, but there was a distant look in his eyes, like he didn’t believe it. “But maybe…”

Maybe.

She hated that word.

It was late, well past midnight, the lights in the barracks casting long shadows over the cold concrete floors. She had stayed back to finish some paperwork, her shoulders stiff from hours of tension, her eyes burning from the fluorescent lights overhead. The others had left hours ago, their laughter and chatter fading as the door clicked shut behind them. She had been alone for what felt like hours.

Then came the sound of footsteps behind her, slow and deliberate. She knew those footsteps—sharp, heavy boots that echoed down the hall.

Her fingers froze on the papers as she stiffened, already dreading the encounter. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. His presence was always a weight, always something that pressed down on her.

“You’re still here?” His voice slithered out, the tone too casual, too familiar.

She forced herself to keep writing, focusing on the feel of the pen in her hand. “Finishing the report, sir.”

He moved closer, and she could feel his eyes on her back, like a predator watching its prey. “You work too hard,” he said, a mock concern dripping from his words.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, but she didn’t turn. “Just doing my job.”

“You’re a good soldier, Y/N.” His voice was closer now, just behind her, and then she felt it—his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “But you should know when to relax.”

She went stiff, her breath catching in her throat as his fingers dug into her skin, the pressure uncomfortably tight. She wanted to shrug him off, to pull away, but she stayed still, forcing herself to breathe evenly.

“Sir, I’d appreciate it if you—”

The slap came without warning, sharp and brutal, the sting of it blooming across her cheek as her head snapped to the side. The chair wobbled beneath her, and she barely caught herself before falling.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N,” he snarled, the warmth draining from his voice in an instant, replaced with cold anger.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse loud in her ears as she brought a hand to her face, feeling the heat of the slap still radiating from her cheek. She tried to push away from the desk, but he was on her in seconds, his fingers gripping her jaw with bruising force.

“Look at me,” he hissed, pulling her face up so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. The cruelty there made her stomach turn. “You think you’re special? You think you’re above this?”

“Sir, don’t—”

His grip tightened, and her words died in her throat as he leaned in closer, so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat of it against her skin. “You’re just a tool, Lieutenant. Just another fucking soldier. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Her stomach twisted as he dragged his fingers down from her face, trailing them along her neck, his breath hot and sour as he pressed closer. She pushed at him, but his body was a wall, unyielding.

“No one’s going to save you,” he whispered, his voice sickeningly soft. “Not out here.”

His hand moved lower, fingers slipping beneath the edge of her uniform, and panic surged through her chest. She shoved harder, desperate, but his hand wrapped around her wrist, pinning it to the desk with a force that made her cry out.

“You’re my bitch,” he whispered.

The pressure, the smell, the hands that wouldn’t stop moving—it was suffocating. Her world shrunk to the feel of him against her, the cruel grip on her wrist, and the terror that choked her.

And then—

She woke up with a sharp intake of breath, her body drenched in sweat, heart pounding like she’d just run miles. Her chest heaved as she blinked rapidly, trying to push the nightmare away, but the phantom touch of his hands lingered, the sound of his voice still echoing in her ears.

For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the filthy ceiling of her cell, trying to pull herself back to reality. It was just a dream. Just a dream. But it had never felt like a dream—it was a memory, twisted, haunting her over and over again.

She turned her head, and through the dim light, she saw Egg sitting up, his legs crossed as he watched her with that same innocent concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his wide eyes blinking at her in the dark.

She clenched her jaw, pushing herself up to sit, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her fingers still trembled as she raked them through her hair, her breath shaky.

“Shut the fuck up, Egg,” she snapped, not bothering to look at him. The last thing she needed was him asking questions.

But Egg, as always, just laughed softly, the sound too light, too out of place. “You’re so mean,” he said, his tone teasing but without any malice. He seemed oblivious to her anger, to the frustration simmering beneath her skin.

She didn’t respond, just kept rubbing her face, trying to shake off the nightmare.

“I miss my wife,” Egg said suddenly, his voice wistful, like he was sharing a precious secret. “She’s so beautiful, you know? And my three kids—they’re waiting for me. We live in a small house, but it’s cozy. We’ve got a dog too. You’d like him. He's real sweet.”

She blinked, slowly lowering her hands to her lap as she stared at him. He was smiling again, that same soft, distant look in his eyes as he raised three fingers toward her. “Three kids,” he repeated, like he was proud of it.

She frowned, unsure how to react. Part of her believed him—he spoke with such conviction, like he really did have a family waiting for him on the outside. A wife. Kids. A dog. A cozy little house.

But how could someone like him have all that? How could someone in this rotting hellhole dream of such things?

“What about you?” he asked, looking at her expectantly. “Do you have anyone waiting for you?”

She clenched her jaw, her body tensing again. Her life outside? What fucking life? She didn’t owe him that. She didn’t owe anyone anything.

When she didn’t respond, Egg’s brows furrowed slightly, his confusion evident. “You don’t have anyone?” he asked, as if that idea was impossible to him.

“Keep your head up your own ass, Egg,” she spat, turning away from him and lying back down, staring at the wall. She didn’t need this shit. Not from him.

Egg just chuckled, unbothered. “You’re so mean,” he whispered again, the fondness in his voice unsettling in its innocence.

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out his words, trying to pull herself back into sleep. But the memory of the dream clung to her, as did his quiet, persistent voice.

When she woke, it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

Her eyes fluttered open, but the world around her was hazy, distorted, as if she were underwater, drowning in a nightmare that refused to end. The light above her flickered一too bright, then too dim-casting eerie shadows across the room, dancing over figures she couldn't quite make out.

She tried to move, but nothing happened. Her arms were pinned, her legs too. A sudden wave of terror washed over her as the realization sank in-she was tied down. Strapped to a bed. Panic surged in her chest, her heart thudding painfully in her ribs. Her muscles strained, burning with effort, but it was useless. She couldn't move.

Her throat felt tight, like something was pressing down on it, and when she tried to scream, her mouth wouldn't cooperate. No sound came out. Not even a whimper. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't scream.

Her vision was blurry, but she could see the outlines of figures moving around her. They wore masks, their faces obscured, just shadows of men and women- scientists. She could hear their voices, muffled and distant, like she was underwater, the words coming and going in waves.

"Increase the dosage."

"Prep the subject."

"It vitals are spiking–"

A hand brushed over her arm, cold and clinical, and she shuddered inwardly, her skin crawling beneath the touch. She could feel the sharp pinch of something digging into her, like metal, slicing into her skin. Pain flared through her body, white-hot and unbearable. Her nerves Screamed, but her voice refused to come. She was trapped in her own body, her own skin, a prisoner in this nightmare.

What are they doing to me?

The thought was frantic, wild, desperate, but there was no escape. Every inch of her burned-her arms, her legs, her chest, her head. It was like her flesh was on fire, melting, tearing apart from the inside out. The sensation was unbearable. She wanted to thrash, to rip herself free, to claw at her skin until she could feel something else, anything else-but she couldn't.

They were talking, their words drifting in and out, but they might as well have been speaking another language. She couldn't focus on anything except the pain, the overwhelming, unrelenting pain.

A needle slid into her skin, and for a moment, everything went white. Her mind screamed, her body convulsing, and the world blurred around her, warping into something unreal, like a fever dream. She wanted to rip herself apart, wanted t scream, to beg them to stop, but her mouth wouldn't move.

She was suffocating. Her body was betraying her. The straps holding her down dug into her flesh, the pain mixing with the agony coursing through her veins. It felt like her skin was being torn off, layer by layer, exposed and raw, the air itself an assault on her senses. She could feel the sharp edges of instruments scraping against her bones, prying her open.

God, please stop! she screamed in her mind, her thoughts a frantic, wild plea. Please stop, someone, make it stop!

Her eyes darted frantically, trying to find anything to focus on, something that wasn't the excruciating agony tearing her apart. But all she saw were the masked faces, the glint of metal tools, the flashing lights above her. The lights flickered, fading in and out, casting long shadows that twisted into grotesque shapes on the walls.

Time lost all meaning. Minutes bled into hours, hours into an eternity of pain. She couldn't remember a time before the burning, before the tearing, before the relentless torture. The world outside of her agony didn't exist anymore.

They were cutting her apart, but nothing was bleeding. She could feel it-feel them pulling at her skin, at her bones, but she was still whole. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. Her mind was unraveling, and she wanted to scream, wanted to claw at her own head to make it stop, make it all stop.

She could see their eyes through the masks一cold, dispassionate, like she was nothing more than a lab rat, just another experiment. They didn't care. They didn't care that she was in agony, that every part of her was screaming, begging for mercy.

And then-

The needle.

It swept over her, like a wave crashing down, pulling her under. Everything went silent. The pain was still there, but it was distant now, far away, like it belonged to Someone else. Her eyelids fluttered shut, the world around her fading into darkness.

And then there was nothing.

No sound. No light. No pain.

Just oblivion.

Should I make a part 2?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

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tsumuus · 2 days

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₊✩‧₊˚ katsuki bakugou + prompt 2 ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ “i wanted her to look at me, but she couldn't pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair” ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ original request ˚₊✩‧₊

The common room was unusually quiet, a stillness lingering after the group hangout had come to an end. Most of Class 3-A had already retired to their dorms, but you, Bakugou, and Midoriya remained. The glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting an amber hue over the room, intensifying the awkward tension that filled the air.

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys. Something about the silence felt... heavy. Your heart thudded uncomfortably in your chest, like there was something you should be saying but couldn’t find the courage to. Maybe it was the way Bakugou kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, or the way Midoriya sat there, more pensive than usual.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” you said, offering the boys a tired smile. “I want to get as much rest as I can before tomorrow.”

Izuku smiled back and nodded, while Katsuki only grunted in response. You felt the weight of his gaze as you turned and walked toward the dorms, but you didn’t dare look back.

Once you were gone, the silence in the room grew heavier.

Katsuki stared at the floor for a long time, fists clenching and unclenching as he wrestled with something in his mind. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I don’t get why you two aren’t dating yet,” he said, his voice gruff.

Izuku blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“You and her,” Katsuki snapped, his irritation rising. “You’ve been joined at the hip since middle school. Inseparable. I figured you two had feelings for each other.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, and he frantically waved his hands in front of him. “Oh, no, no! We’re just friends, Kacchan. We’ve always been close, but it’s not like that. We’re like siblings, basically.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

Izuku tilted his head. “Get what?”

“You had all her undivided attention growing up,” Katsuki said, his voice barely a whisper at first, then louder as his frustration bubbled up. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He clenched his fists, the words pouring out before he could stop them. “I wanted her to look at me, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair.”

Izuku’s mouth fell open, shock written all over his face. He didn’t know what to say, the confession hanging in the air between them. Katsuki kept going, almost like he couldn’t stop himself.

“And now you’re telling me you don’t even like her?” he asked, incredulous. His voice cracked slightly, and he hated how vulnerable he sounded, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

Izuku stared at Katsuki for a long moment, processing everything. He knew. He had always known about your feelings for Katsuki, ever since you’d confided in him back in middle school. He’d kept it a secret, though, respecting your wishes. But now, seeing Katsuki like this, he couldn’t just stay quiet.

“Kacchan,” Izuku started slowly, choosing his words carefully, “I think you should talk to Y/N about this, not me.”

Katsuki blinked, his confusion deepening. “Huh?”

Izuku stood up, giving Katsuki a gentle, knowing smile. “Trust me, Kacchan, she feels the same way.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Same way about what?!”

But Izuku was already heading toward the dorms, leaving Katsuki behind to stew in his thoughts.

The silence that followed was deafening. Katsuki’s mind raced as he tried to piece everything together. Could it be true? Could you really feel the same way he did?

A month had now passed and you all had graduated, and UA's once-bustling dorms were now quiet, most of the students already packed up and gone, ready to take on the next chapter of their lives. Bakugou Katsuki stood by his car, having finished loading his belongings. He hadn’t stopped thinking about that night- about the conversation with Midoriya. About you.

He had replayed Izuku’s words over and over in his mind: “Trust me, she feels the same way.”

But what did that mean? Could it be true? After years of feeling like a shadow in your life, of competing for your attention with Deku, the thought that you could have possibly felt the same way about him all this time was too much for him to fully process.

As he carried the last box from his dorm, Bakugou passed by your room, the door wide open. He glanced inside and saw you still packing, surrounded by half-filled boxes and scattered belongings. Typical. You always took your time with things like this.

Clearing his throat, he stepped into the doorway. “You’re takin’ your damn time, huh? Everyone else is done.”

You looked up, surprised to see him but greeting him with a soft smile. "Katsuki. Shouldn’t you know by now how much of a procrastinator I am?”

He chuckled, a low sound that felt strange to him even now. “Yeah, I know.” It got quiet after that. Bakugou stood there, awkward in the silence, shifting the box in his arms. He wasn’t used to this- this tension between you two. For once, you didn’t seem to be looking at him through the lens of just another friend. He couldn’t explain it, but the air between you felt charged, and Bakugou hated how it made his heart race.

You hated the silence, too. Desperate to fill the void, you opened your mouth to say something, but Bakugou beat you to it.

“Remember that night? After the hangout?” He started, voice rough, avoiding your eyes. “When you left, I talked to Deku.”

You blinked, nodding slightly as if encouraging him to continue.

“He told me I should talk to you. That you… felt the same way.” He hesitated, his pride making the next part difficult. “But I don’t get what the hell he was talkin’ about. What did he mean?”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “Was that all he said? It sounds incomplete.”

Bakugou groaned, frustrated. You were always doing this- making him dig deeper. But he had already started this conversation, and now there was no turning back.

“You know, yn, our entire lives, you were always closer to damn Deku,” Bakugou gritted out, the words coming fast and hard. “The one thing I ever wanted was for your attention to be on me, not that damn nerd. But it never seemed to go my way. You could never take your damn eyes off him.”

You swallowed hard, shocked at how raw his words were. Bakugou wasn’t one to open up, let alone admit something like this.

“I guess I just never understood why,” he continued, the frustration growing evident in his tone. “I did everything in my power to make it go my way. For you to notice me, even acknowledge me. But it never seemed to go that way, huh?”

The silence that followed his outburst felt suffocating. Bakugou hated it, hated how vulnerable he felt after saying so much. But before he could backtrack or cover it up, he forced himself to continue.

“But I’m glad we got closer these last few years,” he muttered, softer now, his eyes fixed on a random spot on the floor. “It’s all younger me could’ve asked for. I don’t say this much, and you probably won’t hear it from me again, so listen up. I’m glad we were friends.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you could hardly breathe. Bakugou… was glad? He wasn’t angry, wasn’t frustrated with how things turned out? After all these years?

You didn’t know what to say, so you fell back on humor, hoping to lighten the mood. “You said ‘were friends.’ I’m not gonna let you get rid of me that easily, Bakugou. We’ll see each other. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bakugou chuckled, but the weight of the moment still lingered. You hated it. You hated feeling like there was something left unsaid, something too big to ignore any longer.

So, before you could lose your nerve, you spoke up, your voice softer than usual. “You know, Bakugou… while you’re here, I should admit something.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious now. “What?”

“The reason I pushed you away all those years ago… it’s because I had a huge, fat crush on you.” You laughed, though the sound was nervous, unsure. “Being a dumb middle schooler, I thought that if I focused on Izuku, it’d help me get rid of those feelings. But all I ended up doing was accidentally blocking you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Bakugou stared at you, processing your words slowly, before his eyes narrowed. “Had?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘had.’ You ‘had a crush on me.’” His tone was tense now, eyes locked onto you, searching.

“Yeah,” you replied, nervously laughing again. “I guess I never told you. I had the fattest crush on you.”

“What about now?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“What about now, yn?” Bakugou dropped the box in his arms and took a step closer, his body language suddenly more intense, more focused. He was agitated now, his frustration bubbling to the surface again. “yn, I just poured my heart out to you. Flat-out told you how I felt, how much I wanted your attention- how much clearer do you want me to be? I love you, yn. Is there any- any sliver of you that still has feelings for me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, heart racing as you processed his words. But all you could do was nod.

He didn’t hesitate. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded again, barely able to manage a breath as Bakugou closed the space between you. When his lips met yours, it was fierce, raw, but there was something so undeniably gentle about it. Every emotion, every unresolved feeling, every year of longing was poured into that kiss. The tension of the past years melted into something warm and real between you.

And as you stood there in the quiet of your half-packed dorm room, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted, replaced by the comfort of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you both had been waiting for this moment all along.

a/n lowkwy half assed the ending sorry but i really do love this quote😭

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

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lurkingshan · 2 days

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Hellooo, do you have any recs for well written bls that also deliver on the romance front? My favorites that are both great shows and great love stories are Eighth sense, Old fashioned cupcake and I told the sunset about you ( the 2nd season is great but I dont f with cheating)...

Hello! I am interpreting your ask to mean you want bls that 1) are focused on a Big Love Story as their main purpose and 2) have strong writing that nails the romance, in particular. With that in mind, here's what I would recommend in addition to the ones you already listed, sorted into a few categories.

Dramatic and Swoony

La Pluie

Two soulmates (or are they?) meet, try to figure out their relationship, and decide whether they care what destiny has to say about it. Also features an equally swoony side couple romance. This show is Big Romance all around and very much in conversation with the genre.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

It doesn't get much more epic and swoony than this show about a modern gay man who gets sent back in time and falls in love with a young heir. This one has an asterisk next to the strong writing criteria because things get pretty wobbly in the final arc, but the romance stays strong throughout and it features some of the best bl romance scenes of all time.

Bad Buddy

It's gay Romeo and Juliet, but nobody dies (though importantly, someone does get shot). This one is tumblr famous for a reason!

Romantic Comedy

Cooking Crush

The sweetest romcom Off and Gun have ever made, with a simple love story between a med student and a chef. This show has some flaws--they let a drunk monkey take over the editing booth on a few episodes in the middle--but it's well written and the romance is great.

Cherry Magic Thailand

A remake of the Japanese original, this one shocked most of us by improving on an an already solid show. It's a fantastic romance, alternately funny and poignant and sweet as hell.

Semantic Error

The perfect bl romcom doesn't exis--

Light On Me

A high school love triangle where everyone is likable and the right boy gets the guy.

I Cannot Reach You

High school friends to lovers and done exactly right. This show is so goddamn charming and funny while still managing to get to the underlying angst of this trope. Perfection.

My School President

This one is all first love and high school shenanigans and a ton of original songs that will get stuck in your head.

Comforting and Cozy

Sing My Crush

Here's one for your constant rewatch list. A story of two best friends who love each other instantly but take awhile to make it explicitly romantic, as one of them is hurt and hiding and the other is oblivious yet somehow still devoted. You will love them.

Takara’s Treasure

This is a gentle love story between two lonely people who are exactly the right fit for each other but struggle with their own insecurities.

Our Dating Sim

A second chance romance for two high school friends who meet again as adults after a bad separation. Short and sweet with just the right touch of angst to burrow into your heart.

Angst Baby

At 25:00 in Akasaka

Two actors who first met in college are cast in a bl together, and the lines between their professional and private lives start to blur. This is a really beautiful and evocative show.

Wedding Plan

A gay man who is preparing to marry his lesbian best friend to protect themselves from their families falls in love with his wedding planner. It's a classic romance trope but this show does it so well, with an added layer of queer angst that really deepens the story.

My Beautiful Man

A high school story that centers on a psychologically complex relationship dynamic that will not become fully clear to you until the end (by design, the writing for this show is remarkable). It's not a traditional romance but it is a deeply moving one, and if you like it there's a sequel season and movie that are both also great.

Theory of Love

The messy angst-ridden friends to lovers drama we deserve. Don't skip the special episode, it's one of the rare cases where the special is actually crucial to the story and not just bonus fluff.

My Tooth Your Love

This one is romcom shaped but also deals a lot with trauma, so on balance it's more of an angsty romance. Warning for dentistry (which I recently learned is an issue for a lot of folks on here).

Gameboys 1 and 2

A pandemic-era romance that starts long distance before our boys can come together in real life. Definitely watch both seasons!

Jack O’ Frost

The only bl that has ever used the amnesia trope well. A romance gone wrong that gets an unexpected second chance after an accident forces a reset of their relationship. I found the themes of generosity and forgiveness in this one really moving.

Seven Days

This one is what it says on the tin--spend a week with two teenage boys as they try out dating each other. I really love the structure of this one, and the romance is well done.

#hope you like some of these anon!#shan recommends #big romance bls #multi bl #shan answers #long post

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olderthannetfic · 3 days

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Someone recently left a comment on one of my fics that they were disappointed I wasn't addressing any of the criticism or comments I got on Goodreads. After all, I reply to comments on the actual fic. Why am I ignoring the Goodreads commenters?

Well, 1. I didn't know there was a Goodreads page for my fanfic 2. I think if they wanted a reply they'd say it where I'm known to reply to every single comment without fail and 3. the kind of dumbass who treats 800k of free fanfics in a series like something they paid for is not the sort of person I want to engage with. If 800k of stories, with main stories, tie-ins, prequel asides, missing scenes, etc. for free wasn't to your liking, just... go read another? We have stories in this fandom whose whole series clock in at over a million words. We have stories where people have done fan songs and fanart and fancomics tying into their main work. We have stories with multiple timelines. You have so many options, all of them totally free and easy to access. If my stories, which I fully admit ares flawed and show some of my weaknesses as an author, don't do it for you, you have options. You have wonderful options.

If I had an editor and a publisher and my stories were actual books, I wouldn't have this reaction to this comment. But these stories have one person working on them total. I'm not making income off of this. This is what I write while working two jobs, for fun. As much as I do view writing fanfic as something that helps me learn the ins and outs of writing and put my all into it, it's going to be rougher than if I'd had help with it or had time to do more drafts than the three I normally do.

And if I was known for ducking criticism, I would get having comments on another site. There are authors in my fandom who delete anything that's not praise. But I have had long conversations with my haters in which I take everything in good faith and explain my writing choices, word choices and ideas. I have my tumblr which is just about my fandom stuff listed in the AN of every chapter. DMs are open and anon is on. My Dreamwidth account, also under the same name, also has DMs open. I have publicly stated when I have made shit narrative choices and owned that yes, sometimes I have genuinely dropped the ball. This has influenced later chapters where things go off of the original outline in order for the shit choice to have consequences in a way that makes sense and feels true to the characters in the story.

So "why are you hiding from the Goodreads commenters?!" feels like the most baffling thing I've ever been asked. I tried to be nice about it, but all I could think was, "why didn't the Goodreads commenters who wanted a reply post their comments where they know I 100% would've responded to it?"

Madness!

(Also, lol, half the pro shit with a lot of comments on Goodreads is barely edited. Maybe they were bitching about content? But if it was whining about craft, the bar is in the floor and they have nothing to complain about.)

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nostalgiaclown · 3 days

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Hey do you think there's a deeper meaning or reason Spite looks just like Lucanis...

There's the scene by the fireplace and I picked up on how Lucanis closes his eyes as he turns his head to avoid looking at Spite...

It's like looking in a mirror, right, and your reflection is staring back as you deliberately hurt yourself with your words.

Lucanis, I think, is stuck in a cycle of 'It’s all I know.' 'It's what I'm good at.' But there's cracks there that hint this isn't who he wants to be...

"Death is my calling."

I don't think he actually believes that, but he has to tell himself that, right?

I don't think he's ever been given the chance to explore who he wants to be, he's just been told this is who he is...

Demons are bound when you 'tell' them what they are so loudly that it's all they can hear. They have to be what you want." But a spirit who evolves to become more of a "real person" is less malleable than a spirit and if they have the certainty of who they are and who they desire to be, they can resist binding entirely.

Did someone else bind the spirit to him by force? Corrupt its nature so fit the needs of the user?

If Spite was originally Love (as I've seen some people comment Love being the opposite of Spite) and they were forcibly bound to Lucanis for whatever reason, did that cause Love to twist into Spite?

I think we're going to have to heal both Lucanis and Spite from whatever grief or trauma they've been through, make him come to terms and accept whatever fucked up thing happened, so it sticks, and he stops just "wiping the slate clean".

He comes across to me as a guy who's just like going through the motions, and needs more of a push to change, for himself.

Nevertheless, it is not unheard of for spirits to evolve and become more "human" by coming to terms with grief, heal from being emotionally hurt, and thus be able to learn from what they endured. By coming to terms with grief, a spirit is able to grow as a person and not "wash clean" like a spirit."

Then I was reading up on spirit healers, and again, there's that same theme of trust here, the spirit trusting the 'mage' and also the loss of trust when being tricked by a benevolent spirit...

To gain the services of such benevolent and righteous beings requires that the mage earn their trust. Often this requires a series of trials to prove that the mage's goals are as noble as the spirit demands, though some mages have claimed to command the compliance of such spirits through sheer force of charisma.

So if Spite was Love, imagine if the trust was broken from the get-go, by whoever brought them over from the fade, that surely would cause Love to twist into Spite?

More than one tale exists of a spirit healer being fooled by a demon masquerading as a benevolent spirit, and inadvertently bringing them across the Veil... or being tricked into letting down their guard, and possessed.

On the flip side, Lucanis is not a mage(?) but if he needed help or something idk- and he was tricked and possessed that way - tricked by 'Love'? Owch, the loss of trust there...

Oh and if Spite just a spirit of Love that was corrupted by Lucanis' own feelings? Like how Justice twisted into Vengeance(?)

We know Lucanis is relearning how to trust, and he's a romantic.

How can you trust others If you don't trust yourself? Spite feels like intrusive thoughts made manifest... And how can you Love others if you have no Love left for yourself? Spite seems to be chipping away at Lucanis slowly... he looks so tired.

What exactly happened to him, I wonder, I can't wait to find out cause it's gonna hurt...

#please dont take this too seriously i dont know half of what I'm talking about I just wanted to wite some thoughts down #i have only read the wigmakers job once and lucanis wiki page #so i dont really know much of the intricacies of his story or what we have been given so far as i dont want to spoil myself #but i did think after reading the wigmakers job that yeah someones put that dog in him #lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #datv #please don’t spoil anything for me in the tags or replies LOL #im just rambling a little #<3 #I see bits of myself in Lucanis I think thats why I got brain worms #but we usually project onto characters dont we? we all just want to be known #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age the veilguard

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otomehonyaku · 3 days

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DIABOLIK LOVERS Eternal Blood Animate Tokuten CD ☽ Vol. 1 & 2 ・A Certain Day at the Mukami Household

Original title: ある日の無神家 Voiced by Sakurai Takahiro (Ruki), Suzuki Tatsuhisa (Yuma) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (as always, BIG thank you to @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This CD was very generous with the fan service, to say the least... I can safely say it's one of my new absolute favourites! The cooing, the teasing, the brotherly banter, Ruki's tired dad energy near the end, and both Ruki and Yuma fawning over you? _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): I hope you have as much fun listening and reading along as I had translating it!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

00:00 [The scene starts with Ruki quietly reading in his room.]

Ruki: What a lovely day it is today. A pleasant breeze is coming in from the window, and time is passing ever so slowly... There couldn’t be a more perfect time to read.

[Ruki turns a page.]

Ruki: I see. There’s much more to this book than I thought. I only bought it on a whim to pass the time, but… it’s actually not bad at all.

[Ruki turns another page and continues reading. The sound of rushed footsteps comes from the hallway.]

Ruki: Oh. Those footsteps… Is that Yuma?

[Ruki snaps his book shut with a sigh.]

Ruki: If he’s heading this way, he probably wants something from me. I’d hoped to spend a quiet day alone, but it seems like I’ll have to let that go…

[Yuma bursts into the room.]

Yuma: Hey! This’s bad, Ruki!

Ruki: Do not run in the hallway. Knock. Wait before I answer until I open the door. How many times do I have to tell you all of this?

Yuma: There’s somethin’ much more important that I need you to take a look at. You got time, right?

Ruki: What happened? You came all this way to disturb my reading, so at least tell me why.

Yuma: You’ll know the reason when you just come to the garden ‘n look at it.

Ruki: At what?

[The scene shifts to the Mukami mansion's vegetable garden.]

Ruki: Ah… What on Earth is this? Hey, you. You were here together with Yuma, right? Explain the situation.

[You try to explain, but you’re so worked up that you keep stumbling over your words.]

Ruki: I shouldn’t have asked you. I can’t have a conversation with you when you can't even string together a sentence.

Yuma: Well… you know how most of the veggies in the garden are pretty much ripe for the pickin’ right now? She was pickin’ them for me, and then she suddenly called out that she saw somethin’ underneath the dirt. So, I got curious and dug it up, and it was… this.

[Yuma pats the box next to him.]

Ruki: This box? It looks like a coffin. You could lock up a full-sized human in there.

02:04 Yuma: Haha. You ain’t wrong. Like you said, it might be a coffin. Might be a vampire inside that was buried while he was sleepin’ or somethin'.

[You definitely don’t like the idea of that.]

Yuma: What, you scared something’s gonna jump out at you? You’d better fight like hell. Heh.

[You ask him what he would do if something were to jump out at you.]

Yuma: Huh? I’m just gonna stand by ‘n watch, of course. I ain’t comin’ to your rescue for free.

[Yuma comes closer.]

Yuma: If you want me to save ya, you got somethin’ to give me in return, right? That sweet stuff that’s flowin’ in your veins… Make me an offer and I might give it some thought.

Ruki: Yuma. That’s enough.

Yuma: Yeah, yeah, got it.

[Ruki steps closer to the box.]

Ruki: Hmm… The lid of the box seems to have a lock on it, but it’s in really bad condition. It looks like it would open easily.

Yuma: So? Let’s take a look inside.

Ruki: Hold on, Yuma. Don’t do anything reckless. Haven’t you read any literature on these kinds of things?

Yuma: Literature?

Ruki: These kinds of boxes are often traps. I’ve read about them in books. For example, there was one case in which a box washed up on a seashore. A man opened the box and smoke poured out, which gathered into the shape of an old man. It’s likely some kind of curse.

Yuma: Those kinds of curses exist?

Ruki: And then there are also these boxes of various sizes, collectively called tsuzura. You’re pressured to choose a single box, and if you choose the biggest one, there’s a trap inside: a monster jumps out of it. There are innumerable examples.

04:01 Yuma: Really? That’s some scary shit.

[You tell them those are probably made-up stories.]

Ruki: Oh? Do you really think they’re mere myths, Livestock? I’ll let you open the box, then.

[You immediately backpedal and try to run away, but Ruki catches you.]

Ruki: Oh, no. Don’t think you can run away now.

[You tell him you don’t want to do it.]

Ruki: You’re the one who said they’re myths. This is an order from your master. Hurry up and open it. If a monster really were to jump out, you’d have nowhere to run. It could easily tear you to pieces. I wonder what happens when it sinks its teeth into this pale skin of yours…

[Ruki’s hands palm your bare skin. You get flustered and try to move away.]

Ruki: What’s wrong? Did you already imagine it just by me touching you? Ah… So you actually prefer pain over pleasure.

[Ruki pulls you closer.]

Ruki: Don’t lie to me. You’re eagerly awaiting it, aren’t you? Your body seems to be trembling in delight, actually. Show me that expression of yours properly.

[Ruki grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.]

Ruki: Oh. I see the colour has completely drained from your face. Fear is not such a bad look on you. Well, then—do as your master tells you and open that lid.

[You tell him you’re scared and repeat that you really don’t want to.]

Ruki: That’s precisely why I’m making you do it, of course.

[You’re on the verge of tears.]

Ruki: Heh. You look miserable when you’re about to burst into tears. It’s quite enjoyable. However, you seem to be misunderstanding something. I’m not doing this to punish you. It’s your reward for helping Yuma.

[Ruki pulls you even closer while you struggle.]

06:03 Ruki: To have your will completely ignored, your body pinned down until you have no choice but to obey… you actually get off on such wretched situations, don’t you? I’ll make you humiliate yourself. Now, how about you wag your little tail in delight and do as I say?

[You violently shake your head.]

Ruki: Good grief… You really don’t know when to give up, do you? You still have no intention of obeying?

Yuma: You’ve really gotten more stubborn since you started livin’ with us. Or, well, you were prolly already stubborn from the get-go.

Ruki: Livestock who don’t follow orders don’t do themselves any favours in terms of charm. Ah. Let’s do this on different terms, then. If you open the lid, I’ll make you your favourite for dinner.

[That piques your interest. You immediately say you’ll do it.]

Yuma: That makes you agree straight away?!

Ruki: Ah… I’ve clearly been using the wrong methods to discipline you. It’s like I’ve got one more Kou or Yuma in my household…

Yuma: What do Kou ‘n I gotta do with that? Well, fine by me, though. Besides, this lid’s pretty heavy. You sure you can lift it with those tiny arms?

[You try to lift the lid but fail miserably.]

Yuma: It ain’t movin’ at all. Are you even tryin’? Put some more effort into it or Ruki’s just gonna yell at you.

[The lid still doesn’t budge despite your best efforts.]

Yuma: I thought you said you’d do it yourself. How pathetic.

[You give up.]

Yuma: You’re so hopeless it ain’t even funny. Hey, Ruki. It’ll take all day if we leave this to her.

Ruki: It certainly seems that way. It can’t be helped, I suppose. Lend her a hand.

Yuma: Gotcha. Let’s see… I’ll give you a hand, so at least put some effort into it, alright? If you can’t open that lid, I’ll sink my fangs into you so deep you’re gonna beg for mercy. Makes it a bit more thrilling, right? Really, though. You keep yapping about the lid being heavy, but how heavy’s it really?

[Yuma gives a little push and the lid gives right away.]

08:24 Yuma: Huh? The fuck? It ain’t even that heavy. You really are useless. You shoulda been able to lift it lickety-split, Sow. I’ve given you a head start, so you do the rest. I’ll let go, so don’t drop the lid, alright?

[Yuma lets go and you immediately almost drop the lid.]

Yuma: C’mon, hold it up a little higher, Sow! Are you really puttin’ all your strength into it? You look like an idiot. Makes me wanna laugh. If you don’t put in the effort like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, we’ll start from scratch again. Jeez… I’ll teach you how it’s done.

[Yuma puts a hand on your lower back, which startles you.]

Yuma: Here, right here. Focus your strength in your lower back when you brace yourself. What, you ticklish?

[You shake your head.]

Yuma: Ah, I see, I see. So you’re just weak? Besides, you can’t really fight back when you got your hands full. Even if I were to do this…

[Yuma puts his hands on you again.]

Yuma: Hehe. That’s a great reaction. Doesn’t matter how tough a position you’re in, you still love it, dontcha? You’re workin’ so hard so hold up that lid, but I wonder what’ll happen if I do it again…

[You unconsciously brace yourself.]

Yuma: You’re shiverin’ like a little rabbit. Ah, come to think of it, there’s a lil’ somethin’ on your clothes…

[Yuma puts his hands on your waist and squeezes. You almost drop the lid.]

Yuma: Haha! Don’t let go so easily. Are your sides really that weak? Besides, I think you know already, but if you let go, you lose. Hm… You don’t wanna get punished, do ya? Better fix that attitude ‘n please your owner. Brace yourself ‘n take it. C’mon, c’mon!

[Yuma tickles and gropes you until you finally break and drop the lid.]

10:24 Yuma: Ah, for shame. Now the lid’s closed again. Time’s come for this useless little piggy’s punishment.

[Yuma grabs you from behind and pulls you against him. Your arms are trapped behind you.]

Yuma: Well, you can’t run away when I’ve got you from behind like this. Your chest’s completely unprotected. Should we punish you right here, right now? C’mon, Ruki. Join in on the fun.

Ruki: Good grief. What are you playing around for? However… You didn’t follow your master’s orders. This indeed calls for punishment.

[Ruki walks over to you. You turn your head to the side in embarrassment.]

Ruki: Are you trying to seduce me, exposing your neck to me like that? You really lack discipline.

[Ruki trails his fingers along your neck, causing you to shiver.]

Ruki: Heh. You’re already losing control of your body just from a little touch of my fingers. Did you fail on purpose because you actually want to be punished? Normally, I would’ve sunk my fangs into you right away, but I think I’ll keep you in suspense today.

[Ruki trails his fingers along your skin again—your cheek and your ear this time.]

Ruki: Your cheek, your ear… Where would you like me to bite you?

[You tremble.]

Ruki: What’s wrong? You’re already trembling from my fingers tracing your skin… Does it excite you that much?

[You deny it.]

Yuma: You can deny it all you want, but you don’t sound very convincing. You’re just covered in weak spots, right? I bet you’ll cry out nicely when I touch your back. Let’s see…

[Yuma caresses your back and your voice slips.]

12:00 Yuma: Haha. What was that shameless sound just now? That’s all it takes to turn you on? What a lewd lil' thing you are.

[You struggle.]

Yuma: For fuck's sake... What’re you actin’ all innocent for when you’re clearly beggin’ to be touched?

Ruki: Are you writhing like that because you want it so badly it hurts, then? You’re out of luck, though—I’ll drag it out. You won’t learn discipline if you always get what you want right away, after all. I'll caress you slowly, deliberately, until you’re absolutely flushed with heat...

[You quietly protest, but like Yuma said, you don’t sound convincing at all.]

Yuma: Nah, you’re actually way into this, ain’t you? If you want our fangs, beg for it.

Ruki: Where would you like me to bite you? Tell me. I can't promise that I’ll honour your wishes, though.

[You struggle against them with all your might, kicking and screaming.]

Yuma: Hey, calm down—

[You accidentally kick the coffin in your efforts to get away.]

Yuma & Ruki: Huh?

Yuma: Oh, dammit. Now part of the lid’s broken because you were kickin’ so hard.

Ruki: The coffin itself has deteriorated quite a bit, too. That said, your kicking did most of the damage. Yuma. Let her go. Her punishment is on hold for now. We can’t have her destroy that coffin before we confirm what’s inside.

Yuma: Well, whatever.

[Yuma lets you go and your knees immediately give out.]

Yuma: Haha. What’re you sittin’ down for? Didya really feel that good? Well, we’ll take our sweet time with you when we continue later. I mean, you wanna see what’s inside the coffin too, right?

[You get up again.]

Ruki: Yuma, can you open it up?

Yuma: Yeah, hold on—

[Yuma opens the lid of the coffin all the way.]

Yuma & Ruki: Oh?

Yuma: The hell’s this?

Ruki: They look like kimono (1) and combs from a long time ago…

Yuma: There’s a whole bunch of stuff that I don’t really recognise, too…

Ruki: I see. It seems we’ve unearthed a time capsule.

14:08 Yuma: A time… capsule? What’s that?

Ruki: People put various things from their time in a box and bury it. Usually, they’re unearthed after a long time, when someone wants to reminisce.

Yuma: Why’s it buried here in the garden?

Ruki: I don’t know what happened on this land before the Mukami mansion was built. However, whoever buried this box clearly put a lot of thought into it.

Yuma: Huh. So what’re we gonna do with it?

[You suggest burying it again to preserve its contents.]

Ruki: Easy for you to say, considering you were kicking it earlier. However, I have no objections to that idea. Let’s put it back in the ground.

Yuma: Even though we went through all that trouble to dig it up?

Ruki: We have no need for it.

Yuma: Well, that’s true. Let’s bury it somewhere where it won’t interfere with my garden. I don’t really get it, though. What’s fun about preservin’ the past?

Ruki: I wonder. It’s a human endeavour first and foremost, though. It has little to do with us.

[You shift on your feet.]

Yuma: Huh? What’s up?

[You tell him you understand.]

Yuma: Understand what?

[You explain.]

Yuma: The feelin’ of wantin’ to cherish your memories?

Ruki: Heh. Memories are worthless. It’s truly something for shallow humans to want to convey memories from their own time period to later generations. Do not think there’s any worth in doing that.

[You disagree. You’ve made nice memories with the Mukami family, after all.]

Ruki: What?

Yuma: Haha. Well said. So, even though you haven’t had it easy since you started livin’ with us, you still made some good memories?

[You nod.]

Yuma: Heh. Isn’t that ‘cause we’ve trained (2) you to think that? Well, I do kinda get what you’re sayin’. Everyone’s got at least some precious memories, after all. Right, Ruki?

16:08 Ruki: Heh. Still, I don’t understand the need to bury them where they’ll never see the light of day.

Yuma: Yeah, I’m with you on that.

[You try to convince them, but…]

Yuma: Nah, it’s alright. Besides, you gotta help me bury this thing again. And after that, we’ve still got harvestin’ to do!

[You’re surprised.]

Ruki: Heh. You unearthed it, so it’s only logical that you have to help burying it again. You’d better work up a sweat while you’re at it.

Yuma: Hey, Ruki. You’re already here anyway, so lend us a hand too, will ya? With the harvestin’ and all.

Ruki: What? You’re seriously asking me that?

Yuma: You’re makin’ her her favourite for dinner, right? We won’t make it in time for dinner if you don’t harvest the necessary veggies yourself.

Ruki: Tch. That’s not something I should need to dirty my hands for. Hey. Harvest whatever you’d like to eat yourself.

Yuma: C’mon, Ruki. Put in the work for once. You’ll be covered in mould eventually if you keep readin’ so much.

Ruki: You might want to consider that we’re vampires. Do you seriously think there are other vampires who think it’s healthy to work outside on days when the sun’s this bright?

Yuma: I like it, so that’s all that matters! You think so too, right?

Ruki: For fuck’s sake... I won’t do it. I refuse!

Yuma: It’s alright, it’s alright! Hurry ‘n c’mere!

Ruki: You two do it!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Besides the obvious traditional Japanese clothing, the word kimono literally means ‘things to wear’ and can also be understood as ‘clothes’ more generally. I think the latter may also apply here.

調教（ちょうきょう）refers to the training of animals.

#like honestly. translator is DECEASED this CD was so fucking hot even though there was no bloodsucking involved augh #diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diahell #diabolik lovers translations #otomehonyaku #my translations #mukami ruki #ruki mukami #mukami yuma #mukami yuuma #yuuma mukami #yuma mukami #eternal blood #diabolik lovers eternal blood #diabolik lovers drama cd #diabolik lovers drama cds

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immortalmrwavell · 7 hours

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Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

#male tf #male transformation #male muscle growth #hunk tf #cop tf #tf by clothing #mental change #reality shifting #magic #cop transformation

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