#Alley cat and Street Rat

[eternal-love-song]

Alley Cat and Street Rat - Prologue

Kokichi/Kaede, Kokichi & Dice, Kokichi & Angie, Kaede & Shuichi [Established relationship, Aged Up Characters, Miraculous AU, Thieves, Superhero AU]

Kokichi's life has been on a steady track for years, he goes stealing with Dice, he's dating Kaede, and he's been pretty good at keeping those two lives separate. When he ends up stealing some magical jewelry that grants him special powers, his life becomes a lot more interesting and his two worlds become a little harder to keep apart.

Shuichi's calm life seems to avalanche over night. It starts with a case coming across his desk about a group of thieves, escalates when he receives a strange present from his parents that give him strange abilities, and culminates when a supervillain calling himself Yokai starts terrorizing the city. As these separate problems combine into one when he takes up the mantle of a hero and learns the thieves he's chasing have the same abilities as the villain he's fighting.

OoOoOo

The carpet looked puke green in the darkness. That was Kokichi's first thought as he shimmied through the window and landed softly on the floor. His second thought was that it was also ugly. The walls looked like they were a rotten yellow and even in the daylight he couldn't imagine it being anything but ugly. "Money is wasted on the rich," he muttered to himself. 

"How does it look in there?" one of his minions questioned, the voice coming quietly from his earpiece.

"Hideous," Kokichi replied as he stood up and looked around. "And are you whispering, Mist?"

"I've never been on comms before, I didn't want to get you caught," Mist replied in a rushed whispered. Kokichi couldn't help snickering at his panic. "Chill out. You can talk normally, just try not to yell."

"O-okay," he replied. Kokichi could practically see his nervous minion fidgeting in his chair. The mental image actually put him at ease. Someone needed to lead around here and it might as well be him. 

"You worry too much, Mist. How are the others doing?"

"Team 1 is at the back door, Team 2 is on the west side and..." There was a pause before Mist sighed. "Team 3 is going through the front door."

Kokichi rolled his eyes at the reckless behavior, but he was completely unsurprised. "Just make sure those idiots don't get caught and give us the warning if it looks like anyone is coming."

"You got it, boss."

The line went quiet. Kokichi looked up and down the hall, trying to orient himself to the map in his head before picking a direction to walk in. He tilted the paintings on the wall as he passed him and lifted a bust off its pedestal at the end of the hall before putting it on the floor. He made his way through the rooms he thought would be empty first. A guest room with nothing interesting, a bathroom where he nicked a few bottles of cold medicine and hid the remaining pill bottles under the sink, another guest room. Pretty boring so far, he hoped the others found more interesting things.

Then he got to the study, which was interesting. There were a few jewelry pieces on the table that Kokchi swept onto the table, along with an open book that had matching pictures of the jewels. Might as well keep them together, never knew what you might find. He opened the drawers where he found a few more things to stuff into his bag, costume jewelry and gaudy things all mixed together for some reason. Kokichi didn't question it, just gathered up what he could for later. Once that was done, he made his way to the main bedroom.

It was thankfully empty and Kokichi let out a breath of relief as he began to ransake the room. He pulled cash out of a wallet and out of draws, stuffed a jewelry box into his bag, a handful of expensive watches, and took all the paintings off the wall looking for anything that might be hidden. There were no safes in the wall and digging through the closet only netted him a box of old pictures. Useless. He moved the box under the bed and put all the pictures back on the wall upside down. He took everything else out of the wallet and stuffed it under the mattress. His bag was pretty heavy at this point, so he figured it was time to go.

"I'm about done here," he said into his earpiece. "Is everyone ready to go?"

"I'll tell them to hurry it up, boss," Mist answered.

"Good." Kokichi made his way back to the window before hearing footsteps coming down the hall and changing his route to slip into the bathroom. He locked the door quickly behind him. "Uh oh, looks like whoever was here is up and about. They'll probably sound the alarm soon, so tell everyone to get out, now!"

"Got it!" Mist exclaimed nervously.

The window was smaller here than the one in the hall, but there was less chance of getting caught here than there was out there, so he simply sighed and pulled a hamper over to the window. He had already climbed onto it and shoved his bag out of the window by the time he heard the alarm going off. He hurried to pull himself through the small opening and rolled as he hit the ground. "Ow. Not the most graceful exit I've ever had."

"Are you okay?" Mist asked. He was whispering again, the nervousness back in his voice. 

"Yeah, I'm good," Kokichi said as he swung his bag onto his back and broke into a sprint. "You don't have to whisper, Mist."

"I know." He sounded like he would cry.

"Keep it together, Mist, we're at the home stretch."

"I am!" He definitely wasn't, but that was okay. There was a reason Mist was on comms instead of inside like the rest of them. 

An alarm started blaring from the house. They'd probably noticed all the redecorating he'd done. He snickered at the thought, hauling himself over the fence that surrounded the property. The van was parked half a block away from the house and he could see Bishop hauling Brush, as well as Fury and Joy running toward the bus as well. Joy waved at him and he waved back. He could see the bright smile on her face beneath her mask which only covered the top half of her face. Fury's mask covered her whole face, but the angry expression on it probably conveyed her feelings well enough.

The door to the passenger seat popped open and Kokichi swung his bag off his back before throwing himself into it. He pulled the door closed and looked at Lantern in the driver's seat. "Gun it!"

"Can Joy and Fury get all the way in first?" Lantern asked with a put upon sigh.

"Gun it!" He repeated insistently. 

Lantern sighed, eyes flicking up to the mirror so he could check on their members in the back before finally following Kokichi's orders and pulling off.

"Whoa!" Joy cried as she fell to the floor, Bishop reaching over her to pull the doors closed. "Trying to lose me, boss?"

"I keep trying, but it just doesn't stick," he said with a sigh, sinking into his seat.

Joy pushed herself up and crawled over the others, raising a chorus of objections, until she could hang off the back of his seat. "No way! You love me. Say that you love me!"

Kokichi pointed to his mouth and made a gagging noise. "Gross. No love for minions. You work for peanuts and you're happy about it."

"I hate peanuts," she said with a pout.

He shrugged. "It's none of my business what you do with them."

Brush grabbed her hand and pulled her into Bishop's lap. He couldn't tell whether that was an accidental landing or a planned one, but either way Joy pouted and leaned back against him. Bishop was large and very comfortable to lay on, so Kokichi didn't blame her. "Now, now, settle down," Brush said. "You can jump our boss later."

"Hey!" he cried, turning around fully in his seat so that he could point at her. "That's mutiny."

"Nya ha ha!"

"I ought to have you thrown in the brig!"

"Oh ho! Boss wants to have me all to himself? How divine!"

Kokichi sighed. Arguing with Brush was like yelling at a brick wall sometimes. It was fun when he did it, but when she did it, it was definitely unfair. The two of them never knew when to back down and after they had played chicken with each other until they'd ended up kissing, Kokichi had decided it was better not to push against her too far. At least, now that he had a girlfriend. You can only explain that you made out with your second in command because of an argument so many times before people started to question it and Kokichi was trying not to get to whatever threshold that was.

"So where to, Boss?" Lantern asked. "Base or Home?"

Kokichi hummed loudly as he thought, leaning back in his chair. He very much wanted to go over the spoils tonight, but whenever he was with Dice after a mission they went from inventory to party before he knew it and then he ended up staying out until morning. Kaede would definitely have something to say to him if he stayed out until morning. Worse, she might mention it to her lame friends and that could end up causing problems in the future. 

With a dramatic sight, Kokichi commanded, "Home. No one touches anything until Trigger does inventory."

There were immediate objections and cries of disappointment. Mostly from Fury and Joy, but he thought he might have heard Mist make some disappointed grumbles as well. 

"Silence minions!" They quieted down quickly and he smiled at the obedience. "Trigger does inventory and the rest of you sleep. That's an order. I'll be back in the morning."

"Yes, sir," they all agreed in unison. It was a bit tired or reluctant from some, but it was a uniform agreement. "Good. Lantern, you're in charge."

Latern's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Boss, I don't know that Brush will agree to that."

Kokichi took off his mask to smile deviously at him. "you're the one that keeps saying that you should be second in command. Now's your chance to prove it!"

Kokichi could practically see him sweating. Lantern wanted to be in control, but when it came to Brush, he had a hard time running over her like he did with some of the others. Kokichi thought it was funny and a good exercise in reminding him why he didn't have nearly the amount of power he kept trying to reach for without Kokichi needing to spell it out for him. "I, um, I'll do my best, Boss."

"See that you do," Kokichi told him.

The rest of the ride was quieter, but not quiet. It was rarely quiet for long in his little group, even now when only half their members were present. 

OoOoOo

Dice headquarters was a building on the outskirts of the city. It was an abandoned building when they had found it and from the outside it still looked the part, the inside however, had been cleaned and furnished over the years until it made a suitable evil lair. It was inconspicuous and easily ignored, which had served them well over the years.

"I'm home!" Kokichi called as he kicked the door open first thing in the morning. 

Trigger was laid out on the table in the middle of the room, pink hair spilling out over the papers on the desk, legs kicked in the air, with an array of pens and markers spread out around her. She waved lazily at him without lifting her head from where it was resting on her arms. "Hey, Kiki."

He frowned as he looked at her, but this wasn't an unusual sight. Trigger liked to lounge, liked to draw, was lazy, didn't mind a mess, and was the person most likely to serve as secretary when needed. Seeing books or papers piled around her was a pretty normal occurrence and Kokichi was pretty sure she would bury herself in a mountain of paper if she wasn't stopped. "Did you sleep here?"

"Did you want inventory done?" she countered.

Kokichi looked over the table again, trying to read what was on the loose papers and open notebooks that were covered by her hair or body. He pulled the corner of one from under her arm until he could pick it up. "Was this mine?"

"No." She flipped her hair to the other side, the strands wavy and naturally framing her face. "Well, kinda. It was in your bag, but I copied it. You found something cool."

"So cool that you decided to copy the entire book?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking up from the pages at her.

Trigger shrugged. "It's pretty cool and everyone's going to want to see it and get their gross hands all over it and probably tear it." She rolled her eyes. As messy as she was, she hated the idea of things being torn or smudged, and no matter what else Kokichi might say about her, none of the papers that ended up beneath her sprawl were ever so much as wrinkled. She seemed careless most of the time, but she was actually quite meticulous when she wanted to be. "Well, if you want to show them, that is."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking back down at the book. There were a lot of drawings, some of people in costumes, some that he recognized as the jewelry he stole last night, and others that didn't look familiar at all. There was text at the bottoms of the pages or point to things in particular in a different language, but Trigger had helpfully provided translations. She had done a lot of traveling with her family and had a knack for languages, which had come in handy many times. Though no matter how many of them he learned or what he got her to teach them, she still managed to find one secret enough to write in when she didn't want them to know something. "Why do these look like heroes?"

"Because as far as I can tell, they are," she told him. "Seems like you lucked out and managed to steal magic items."

"Bullshit," he said immediately.

She smiled, reaching into his bag under the table and pulling out a ring, which she tossed to him. "They're called Miraculous, apparently. Put it on."

"What does it do?" he asked, holding up the black ring with a green paw print on the front, studying it from every side. It looked completely ordinary to him.

Trigger shrugged. "Break stuff, mostly."

Kokichi grinned at her as he slipped the ring onto his finger. "I'm in."

The ring flashed, changing into a plain silver band on his finger. Then a light flashed from it and a weird black thing emerged. It was vaguely cat shaped, but in a stuffed charm sort of way, with a large head and big eyes. "Aww, man, I've been asleep for way too long. Got any cheese?"

"See," Trigger said. "Magic."

"Huh," Kokichi hummed in agreement. "And you said they're called Miraculous?"

"Don't ignore me," the thing said. "I'm starving over here! I could keel over at any moment."

"Dramatic," Kokichi said with a smile. "I like it. Minion, fetch the cheese!"

"What if we don't have any cheese?" she asked.

"The store does."

"I am not going to the store to buy cheese for a magic cat," she replied.

"Well someone has to and who's the boss around here?" Kokichi questioned.

Trigger huffed before pushing herself off the table, grumbling as she went toward the kitchen. 

"So what are you?" Kokichi asked, reaching out to grab the cat, but it flew around his hand. 

"Hey, don't be grabby," it said. "The name's Plagg and I'm a kwami. A sort of guardian spirit for the ring, you could say." The cat flew up to his face, inspecting him and avoiding Kokichi's attempts to grab him. "And what are you? Some kind of hotshot?"

"You could say that," Kokichi answered.

"Do you call all of your friends minions or just really useful ones?" Plagg asked.

"Yes," he answered.

Plagg studied him more before shrugging. "Whatever, just get me my cheese and we can get this show on the road."

"What show?" Kokichi asked.

"She said it already, didn't she?" Plagg asked with a bored drawl. "I'm magic! So are we gonna tear up the town or aren't we?"

"Absolutely," he answered. "So what do you do and how do you do it?"

"Cheese first," Plagg demanded. "Questions can come after. I'm skin and bones over here."

"You look fine to me."

"And you look like a heartless bastard to deprive me of my one and only food source," Plagg said, flopping on his back on the table like he was dying.

"Is that true?"

"Won't know until you feed me."

On cue, a pack of Kraft singles hit the side of Kokichi's head. "Ow! Hey!" he cried out.

"We have cheese!" Trigger yelled from the kitchen doorway.

"Gee, thanks." Kokichi rubbed his head as he placed the cheese on the table.

"Ugh, really? This awful processed mess is all you have to offer me?" Plagg complained. "You just can't get good service nowadays."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Kokichi told him

"You'll find that I can be very choosy," Plagg replied. "Buuut, I guess this will do for now. But only because I'm starving. Next time you'd better get the good stuff." Plagg stuffed three slices into his mouth and given that his whole body was small enough to fit into the palm of Kokichi's hand, it looked like quite a lot of cheese. "If you don't keep me well fed, I won't be able to transform you, you know."

"I didn't."

"Well now you do! Keep up, kid."

Kokichi rolled his eyes. "Come on, get to the good stuff already. What can you do?"

Plagg shoved another sheet of cheese into his mouth. For all his complaints, he was certainly devouring the stuff fast enough. He made a note to put cheese on the shopping list, since they were apparently going to need a lot of it. "What can I do, aside from give you enhanced strength, speed, durability, and make you better than any human could ever hope to be on their own?"

"Yeah, aside from that," Kokichi said with a grin.

Plagg rolled his eyes. "Kids these days are so ungrateful." 

Kokichi looked at his nails. "It takes a lot to impress me, what can I say?"

"You could start with thank you, Plagg. I'm really happy to have you, Plagg. Here's some more cheese, Plagg. You know, the normal things you say when you're offered supernatural powers."

"Yeah, yeah. Get on with it, cat."

Plagg huffed and stuffed more cheese into his mouth before sighing in contentment and flopping on the table. Kokichi hoped that he didn't eat that much cheese every time. "I am the kwami of destruction. With one word, you can destroy anything you touch. Bam, instantly to dust. So you'd better be careful with it."

"What's the word?"

"Cataclysm," Plagg told him. "Obviously it only works when you're transformed. And also you won't have me around to guide you when you do transform, so you'd best listen up now or else be up a creek later."

"Wait, why won't I?" Kokichi questioned.

"If I'm transforming you, I can't also be out here talking now can I?" Plagg asked.

"Yeah, that makes sense, I guess."

"Now, to transform all you need to say is 'Claws Out' and to turn back 'Claws in' It's all pretty simple."

"Then let's test it!"

Plagg floated up off the table. "Ready when you are, kid."

"Claws out!" Plagg was sucked into the ring and a flash of green light rushed over him before he found himself completely transformed. He ran over to the nearest mirror to look at himself. He had black leather jacket over a purple shirt, two tails, a black cat with cat ears on it, as well as googles, black pain formed a mask over his eyes which had been large and catlike, and black pants. He looked like a perfect cross between a hero and a thief. "Perfect," he said to himself. "Things are about to get a lot more interesting."

[eternaldeviants]

Alley Cat and Street Rat - Chapter 1

Kokichi/Kaede, Kokichi & Dice, Kokichi & Angie, Kaede & Shuichi [Established relationship, Aged Up Characters, Miraculous AU, Thieves, Superhero AU]

Kokichi's life has been on a steady track for years, he goes stealing with Dice, he's dating Kaede, and he's been pretty good at keeping those two lives separate. When he ends up stealing some magical jewelry that grants him special powers, his life becomes a lot more interesting and his two worlds become a little harder to keep apart.

Shuichi's calm life seems to avalanche over night. It starts with a case coming across his desk about a group of thieves, escalates when he receives a strange present from his parents that give him strange abilities, and culminates when a supervillain calling himself Yokai starts terrorizing the city. As these separate problems combine into one when he takes up the mantle of a hero and learns the thieves he's chasing have the same abilities as the villain he's fighting.

Prologue

OoOoOo

"When are you going to introduce me to Dice?"

Kokichi raised his book so that he could look across the apartment to see Kaede was standing in the kitchen. He was hanging upside down off the edge of the couch, feet brushing against the wall where they were propped up on the back of the couch and his hair brushing the floor. Kaede still had her back to him as she focused on burning breakfast.

Well, Kokichi assumed that she would burn it because she was a terrible cook. She could rarely follow a recipe without trying to add something or getting distracted so that it ended up burned. The fact that she was keeping her eyes on the food would have been a good sign, but the fact that she had started this conversation meant that her mind wasn't really on it. He didn't mind though. They had poptarts in the cabinets that he could snag.

"I have introduced you to Dice," he replied. It was pretty much impossible for him to spend any significant time with someone without them colliding with Dice in some way. Dice were the most important thing in his life and while Kaede was steadily climbing higher on that list, she hadn't and likely wouldn't surpass Dice. 

Kaede turned to glare at him over her shoulder. "Only, like, three members," she said. Technically five, but he wasn't sure she had realized that he had long recruited some of their former classmates. Though if he really thought of it, all of Dice had met her by now, she just didn't know it. There was no way Dice would ever let their leader date, let alone live with someone that they hadn't met and vetted to some extent. She was at a bit of a disadvantage when it came to spotting Dice members though. There were a lot of people that came up to her all the time, either because she was a Hope's Peak alumni or because she was a famous pianist, and it was hard to keep up when you met that many people a day. Or so he heard. Kokichi was pretty good at remembering people.

"So, what about it?" he asked.

"Three people isn't all of Dice," she complained. "I want to meet everyone."

Kokichi sighed and closed his book, tossing it up on the couch beside him. "What for?"

"What do you mean, what for?" she asked, voice becoming louder with incredulousness. "Because they're important to you. They're practically your family, right?"

"They are my family," he corrected.

"So why wouldn't I want to meet your family?" She asked, fully turning toward him and putting her hands on his hips. Definitely going to burn those eggs, or whatever it is.

Kokichi sighed loudly. "Sounds like a lot of work, to me."

"Kokichi," she said in a scolding tone. She walked away from the stove, big mistake, and kneeled down so that she could look him in his eyes. A silly thing to do when he was upside down. His expression went from scolding to soft in moments. "I want to be closer to you. You want that too, right?"

Kokichi met her eyes and said, "Your food is burning."

The calm expression was immediately replaced with panic as she got to her feet. "No, the omelet!" She ran over to the stove and began fussing around with the pan, trying to save the undoubtedly ruined meal. 

Kokichi slid off the couch and onto the floor before rolling over and getting to his feet. "Poptarts are on the shelf," he told her helpfully.

Kaede gave him an exasperated look over her shoulder. "I don't want junk food for breakfast."

"And I don't want burned food," he said, walking to the cabinet and pulling out the box. "Guess our tastes are just too different."

"Don't eat that, she told him. "I'm going to make us a nice breakfast for once."

Kokichi gave her a flat look. "A nice breakfast of what? Cereal?"

Kaede frowned, looking back down at the mess in her pan. "Maybe it doesn't taste that bad?" she asked hopefully.

Kokichi looked her in the eyes as he ripped open his poptarts and took a bite of one. "Then you eat it."

Kaede made a sound of distress as she hung her head. Kokichi pat her shoulder as he walked by. 

"Better luck next time, sweet cheeks."

"Don't call me sweet cheeks," she grumbled half-heartedly. She knew by now that objections basically guaranteed that he would use the nickname again, but it was a hard habit to break. 

Kokichi watched from the couch as she scrapped the food from the pan, dropped it in the sink, and slowly trudged over to sit beside him. He held out his poptart for her to take a bite and Kaede sighed before doing so.

"See, it's not so bad," he said.

Kaede groaned and let her head fall onto his shoulder. He continued letting her take bites of his poptart

OoOoOo

It was mid-afternoon when Kokichi met up with Dice. They had a lot of meeting places within the city, the main one being in an area that had been dubbed Hideout Park. It was a completely normal park but after meeting there a few times, Joy had made a joke about it being their hideout and the name had stuck. It wasn't the largest park, but it was in a fairly busy area making their constant gathering seem very inconspicuous.

There was a path that ran through the park and a picnic table that sat to one side, known as the throne after he routinely used it as a chair instead of a table. Today was no different and Kokichi hopped up on the table as soon as he arrived. "Bow to your king!"

Joy was kneeling on the ground in a circle of dogs they were meant to be walking, trying to pet all seven of them with her two hands. She looked up at him, rolled her eyes, and continued trying to pet the herd of excited canines. Princess was sitting on the grass with one of the smaller dogs in her lap and she waved at him. Bishop and Ace both smiled at him, the latter trying to reach over Joy to hook leashes on dog collars.

"Hey boss," Bishop greeted.

"You're late," Ace told him.

"A king is never late," he declared. He looked around briefly to see if he could spot any of his other minions, frowning when he didn't. "Where's my good for nothing second?" he asked.

"Angie had a commission," Joy answered. "She took Raeve with her and Jack thought that he should supervise."

Kokichi sighed. "Typical." Angie, otherwise known as Brush once he had taken her under his wing, was more chaotic than she was reliable most of the time. Kokichi didn't need a reliable stick in the mud though, that's not what made her his second in command. No, he needed someone that could ride the same wave of chaos that he did, someone that was devious and reckless but not stupid. Lantern thought that he should be second in command because he was reasonable and usually tried to reign Angie in for that reason. The fact that he usually failed emphasized his lack of suitability to the role. 

"Did you need her for something?" Ace questioned. His bleached blonde hair stood up at a 90 degree angle, but rather than make him stand out, he looked rather normal among them. A lot of people bleached their hair and used too much gel. Bishop was big and round with a bald head, Princess was smaller than even Kokichi with hair so long it nearly trailed the ground, and Joy had bright pink hair with shaved sides. Comparing them, Ace seemed like your typical delinquent.

"Kaede wants to meet you all," Kokichi said instead of addressing Ace's question.

Joy's face lit up. "We get to meet the mistress?"

"Don't call her the mistress," he said. "That makes me sound like some sleazeball."

"What does she want with us?" Ace questioned.

"The usual," Kokichi answered with a shrug, looking at his nails. "Torture, interrogation, intimidation."

Ace's eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

Joy snickered. "No way. He's kidding."

Ace looked at Joy. "But are you sure? I mean, if she's dating the boss then..."

"If she was like Kichi then she would have already met us by now," Princess said. She looked up at Kokichi. "Right?"

Kokichi smiled widely at her. "Some minions are brighter than others."

"Hey!" Ace yelled.

Kokichi laughed as he hopped off the table. "Enough messing around. We've got a job to do!"

They all nodded, getting to their feet and handing out the dogs leashes until they all had the dogs that they could handle. Dice Dog Sitting services had been a successful endeavor for them since before he graduated from Hope's Peak and it was enough for them to scrape by. Of course, their other endeavors went a long way as well.

"Onward!" he exclaimed.

"Onward!" they echoed him.

OoOoOo

The minute Kaede reached the table where Shuichi was waiting for her she let out a loud groan. She let her body fall into the seat and dropped her head onto the table, not caring at all if she got a few stares from the other patrons at the cafe. She and Shuichi always chose to sit outside where the noise was more acceptable and years of dating Kokichi had made her less uptight about causing small scenes in public. The same couldn't be said of Shuichi though, who looked around nervously before he even addressed her.

"Um, is something wrong?" he asked.

"Today was a disaster," she told him. "Again!"

Shuichi's eyes still glanced around but he kept the majority of his attention on her. He really did worry too much about what others thought of him, she wasn't being that loud. "What happened?"

"I ruined breakfast."

"Well, that's not new," he said. When she lifted her head to look at him, Shuichi tried to swiftly backtrack. "I-I mean, um, did Kokichi complain or..."

Kaede sighed again, deciding not to comment on his less than delicate reponse. "No, but he never complains. And he still doesn't want me to meet Dice either!"

"Did he say that?" Shuichi asked and Kaede could tell by the way his eyes sharpened and his lips thinned that he would be offended on her behalf if he did. The thought actually made her smile, just a little.

"Not in so many words," she told him. "But he did change the subject." The fact that the subject changed to her burning food was irrelevant. She folded her arms under her and sulked just a little. It wasn't fair that he had a secret organization and wouldn't tell her anything about it.

Shuichi lifted his hand to his lips as he thought, a habit that he still hadn't broken all these years later. "Maybe he has a good reason that he doesn't want you to meet them."

Kaede frowned. "What reason could he have? These people are his family and I live with him now!"

Shuichi held up his hand, leaning away from her glare. "It was just a suggestion! I don't want to-"

Kaede leaned closer to him. "But you're a  detective, right? So detect something!"

Shuichi leaned further away from her. "Um, it doesn't really work like that."

Kaede sighed as she put her head back on the table. "Sorry, I'm just driving myself in circles here. Why doesn't he want me to meet them? Does he think they won't like me?"

"Well..." Whatever Shuichi was in the middle of saying was cut off by a scream. The two of them, as well as several other people in the cafe, stood up to look around for the sound. Several people were beginning to run past, though they still wouldn't see what was causing the commotion.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"It's a Yokai attack!" someone hastily spat out.

"What?" Kaede pushed herself away from the table as she got to her feet, trying to look toward what was happening. 

Shuichi put a hand on her shoulder. "Kaede. We should go."

Kaede noded. "Right." 

While the people around them were standing up and trying to lean over the cafe's rail to see what was happening, she and Shuichi went the other way toward the bathrooms.

Yokai, as he called himself, had been making random attacks on the city for a while now. No one was sure where he had come from, or what he wanted, but every time he made his move he was there and gone before anyone had the chance to do anything about it. 

That was, until now. Kaede looked down at the small winged brooch that was clipped to her shirt. "Do you think we should?" he asked softly. She looked up at Shuichi, seeing the same indecision on his face before he nodded.

"If we can do something, then... we should try," he said.

Kaede smiled at him. "You're right. See you on the other side." They went separate ways, him into the male restrooms and her into the women's. She briefly looked around to make sure the place was empty before ducking into one of the stalls. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "Alright, we can do this. Nooroo?"

Her kwami, a small purple plushie-like creature with large eyes and butterfly wings, floated out in front of her with a smile. "You'll be great, Master. I believe in you."

Kaede smiled back at it. "Alright, Nooroo. Wings rise!" There was a flash of light around her and she could feel the transformation as it spread over her. Once it was done, she opened the door and looked over herself briefly. She'd only transformed a handful of times before and she hadn't really gotten the chance to see how she looked any of those times. Red butterfly wings drooped behind her and there were wings on the side of her cap. She had a red mask over her eyes, with matching gloves and shoes, but her shoes and tights were black. The cane in her hand looked a bit more like a wand, a red butterfly emblem below the pommel.

Kaede only paused long enough to give herself a quick once over before she was pushing herself out the bathroom's window, and rushing toward where she heard the commotion. 

Shuichi was only a few steps behind her. He looked a lot less elaborate than she did, dressed all black with a button up shirt tucked into slacks, a black cap pulled low on his head, and black fingerless gloves. The only spot of color was the blue of his mask, his hair that looked wilder and fluffier than normal, and the dog ears peeking out from the sides of his cap.

Kaede gave him an encouraging smile. Even though he'd done this a little more often than she had, he was still far from being an expert. "We can do this," she told him.

Shuichi pulled on his hat, much like he used to in highschool. "I hope you're right."

OoOoOo

They heard the screaming before they got to the scene. There was a web of string covering the area, thin in some areas but thick and black in others. At least, Shuichi thought that it was string, before he was able to spot Yokai standing in the center of it all. The man was dressed in a loose, flowing white top and golden hakama trousers, a giant paintbrush strapped to his back. He had skin that was pure white like it was made of marble, golden pupil-less eyes, and long trails of black hair which were connected to the trails of string all around them. All around the area, he could see people being accosted by this sentient hair, grabbing hold of limbs or wrapping around necks.

"Oh no," Kaede said as soon as she saw what he did. "We have to save them."

"I'll rescue as many as I can," he told her. "You need to distract him."

"Right." Kaede set her sights on Yokai and jumped into the hair, the red wings on her back coming to life to help carry up to the top of the building where Yokai waited. 

Shuichi focused his attention on the first person he saw whose neck was being gripped by the hair. He pulled out his weapon, a small blue ball, and tossed it at them. It hit them and bounced back into his hand. "Fetch!" he called out and the person was teleported from where they were into Shuichi's waiting arms. The sudden weight brought Shuichi to his knees as he tried to hold up the person as they coughed and struggled to catch their breath, but he sighed in relief that the power worked like it was supposed to. He couldn't spare too much time though. He ran through the area, tossing his ball out at anyone that was in a bad spot and calling them safely to his side. 

Once he'd rescued everyone that was in immediate danger, he turned his attention to Yokai and Kaede. Yokai was brandishing his giant paintbrush as a weapon and Kaede was using her cane to deflect the blows. She looked far from confident though, slowly backing up from Yokai's steady advances as he rained down blow after blow.

"Why are you doing this?" Kaede asked. "Why are you hurting people?"

Yokai ducked beneath her guard and jammed  the end of his paintbrush into her stomach, making her double over. "I don't think that's any of your concern."

Kaede looked up at him, face contorted in pain. She still managed to fling her cane out toward his leg, causing him to hiss in pain. "It is my concern! I refuse to let you do whatever you want!" 

Shuichi ran to get closer to her, jumping from cars to streetlights to make his way up to her side. He tossed his ball at her once he was close enough, knowing the projectile would travel faster than he would. 

"Unfortunately for you, I wasn't asking for permission," Yokai said. 

The ball returned to Shuichi's hand just as he noticed someone else coming toward them. No, coming toward her. 

Shuichi didn't think, he just yelled. "Fetch!"

Kaede disappeared just as someone landed in her place, creating a crater in the top of the building. Kaede blinked several times in confusion as she appeared at Shuichi's side. "Wh-what?"

Shuichi turned his gaze back to the roof. While Yokai had appeared several times now, with ever changing abilities at his disposal, this was the first time that he'd ever had someone at his side. The girl was dressed in white, with brown hair that looped at the top to look like ears, a cat paw print on her top, and black and red paint surrounding her red eyes like a mask. She looked dangerous, the way she zeroed in on them and immediately took up a fighting stance, claws on one of her hands.

"Who are you?" Kaede questioned.

"Mauler," she answered curtly. "Don't get in our way."

"We're not going to let you hurt people!" Kaede responded. 

"Then you'll get hurt," the girl answered. She kicked a chunk of concrete that had been dislodged by her attack, sending it straight at them. Shuichi and Kaede separated as they dodged. Shuichi landed on the top of a nearby car, while Kaede took to the air. The onslaught didn't stop, as Mauler punched the ground once again and began kicking more debris their way. Shuichi quickly dropped down behind the car to take cover while Kaede dodged in the air.

Unfortunately, they had both forgotten about the web of hair loosely covering the area around them. Shuichi didn't realize that he was trapped until the strands tightened around his limb, binding his arms to his torso and causing him to cry out. "Ack!"

"Cerber! Ahh!" Her cry was cut off as the hair wrapped around her leg and dragged her from the air, slamming her into the ground below. 

"I feared that this would be a difficult task," Yokai said, standing at the edge of the building and looking down at them. "But it seems I overestimated you."

Kaede glared, trying to kick her leg free, but more tendrils were wrapping around her and closing around her other leg too. Her face was absolutely panicked and for a moment, Shuichi thought they were done for, that this would be their first and last attempt to use these powers, their Miraculous, for anything good. But then she cupped her hands together, a small light gathering in her palms, before she flung her arms out, releasing a small white butterfly. Kaede kept her gaze on Shuichi as the butterfly traveled to him, landing on his hair.

"Shuichi? Can you hear me?" Kaede questioned, her voice floating through his mind. He could see the white outline of butterfly wings around his face and her mouth wasn't moving, so this must have been part of her ability. 

"I can hear you," he thought back to her. "How are you doing this?"

"Part of my abilities are to empower others," Kaede said. "I can give you the strength to save us. What do you need, Shuichi? Show it to me."

Shuichi tried to think, what could he do to get them out of here? The problem was that Yokai could trap them too easily, they needed a way to be able to escape his web and then they could take care of the rest. He imagined the ability he would need.

"Alright. I can do it," Kaede responded to him. "Just trust me."

"I do," he answered confidently.

Kaede smiled at him and then she called out, "Metamorphosis!"

Shuichi could feel her power rushing over him and closed his eyes against the bright light it produced. He could feel his abilities becoming stronger and he instantly understood how to use them. He tossed out his ball and yelled, "Chase!" As soon as his weapon hit the ground, he was teleported out of the tangle of hair and to the location his weapon had landed. "We did?"

"Good job, Cerberus!" Kaede said. "A little help here?"

Shuichi was knocked over before he could respond. He looked behind him quickly, pailing as he saw Mauler standing over him. "Forget about me?" she asked. She held up the hand adorned with claws. "Clout," she said quietly, causing her claws to glow with energy.

Shuichi quickly scrambled backwards before tossing his weapon. "Chase!" he yelled in panic. Her claws were inches from his face when he vanished and a crater was left on the ground where her fist had landed. 

"You can't dodge forever," she told him.

No, he probably couldn't, Shuichi was very determined to try. He moved to put more distance between them, trying to avoid the web of hair as it lunged at him. When he was finally close enough to Kaede he tossed his ball out to free her. She slumped against him, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "I have no idea how to defeat them."

"I think I do," Kaede said. "We need to get that brush from Yokai. That has to be how he's using his power, right?"

"Maybe," Shuichi answered hesitantly. He couldn't think of anything else though and it would be easier to steal that than trying to take Mauler's claws. 

"Ah, Look out!" Kaede yelled, pushing them both to the ground just in time to avoid being barreled into by Mauler. The woman was fast, immediately getting back to her feet and raising her claws.

"Clout!" 

Kaede grabbed him around the waist and jumped into the air, out of Mauler's reach, her wings fluttering quickly as she struggled to keep them both in the air.

"Chase!" He yelled, teleporting them to one of the nearby buildings.

Kaede smiled at him, but it looked tired. "I think this power is taking a lot out of me. I'm starting to get a headache."

"Let's try and finish this quickly then," he said. 

"Yeah." Kaede took a deep breath, putting on a determined expression. They both ran toward Yokai, splitting up once more and Mauler leapt between them. "Stay out of our way!" Kaede yelled, hitting the girl with her cane. The hit knocked Mauler back a few steps, but she was running at them again quickly. "Go on, Shu- er, Cerberus."

"Right." Shuichi turned to run toward Yokai, teleporting to get to the man more expediently.

"That's a rather interesting ability your friend has," Yokai said, tilting his head to observe him. "Cerberus, was it? The two of you never properly introduced yourself."

"Cerberus and Red Wings," Shuichi said. "Not that you'll need to remember it for long, since you'll be going to jail soon."

Yokai laughed, low and sinister. "I doubt that." 

It was only the tilt of his head that alerted Shuichi to something coming toward him and he moved before he even saw what it was. A tendril of hair swept the area where he had just been standing and even after landing again, he wasn't safe. More and more tendrils swiped at him, trying to capture him. Shuichi was a bit out of breath trying to dodge them all while also trying to get into a position to throw his weapon. They caught up with him at the same time his weapon bounced off Yokai's brush, the strands tightening around his feet and causing him to fall.

"Fetch," he grunted, his hands tightening around the brush as soon as it materialized in front of him. 

Yokai began walking toward him slowly as the hair tightened around his legs. "I wasn't going to bother with trying to take your Miraculous," Yokai began. "But on second thought, both of your abilities would be quite useful."

Shuichi pulled the paintbrush closer, looking around as he tried to decide what to do.

"Let me guess... you look rather like a wolf and the name would lend itself an air of viciousness," Yokai said calmly. "But no, that doesn't seem right with your attacks. The dog Miraculous? Am I right?"

"Chase!" Shuichi yelled, throwing his ball, but Yokai's hand whipped out to catch it. 

"No, not this time," he said.

Shuichi took the moment of distraction to toss the paintbrush over the edge of the building. "Red Wings!"

Kaede leapt into the air, looking a bit worse due to the fight she'd been having with Mauler. Her hat had been knocked off and her wings looked a bit crooked, but they held her well enough to fly and she scooped the paintbrush into her arms. "Ah ha! Yes!" She grinned victoriously. "Give it up, Yokai!"

Yokai watched them both calmly as Mauler jumped to his side. "I could take her," Mauler said.

"No," Yokai said. "Let them have this victory. I learned some very interesting things this time. That's more than enough."

Mauler growled before nodding. "Fine." She backed up to the edge of the building before jumping off, shortly followed by Yokai. Kaede flew after them, looking around a few times before she turned to Shuichi. "I don't see them."

All at once, the web draped over everything disappeared, along with the brush in Kaede's arms. Shuichi blinked at his sudden freedom. 

"What happened?" she questioned, landing beside him and helping him to his feet.

"They must have de-transformed," Shuichi said. "I guess we were right and he couldn't control the ability anymore."

Kaede sighed. "That was way harder than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, I never would have guessed that being a superhero was that exhausting," he agreed.

"Ugh! We didn't even get to have lunch," she groaned. 

Shuichi chuckled. "I think we can give ourselves another hour, don't you?"

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite.

Master Post | Next

Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.

or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.

Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.

he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.

Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.

No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.

dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.

"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"

the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."

her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."

"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."

the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.

Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.

walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.

Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?

Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.

thennnnnn-

Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.

and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.

there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.

who else was there? hmmmm.

well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.

it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.

he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)

he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.

but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?

it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.

...

was he really going to do this?

...

yes, yes he was.

standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.

suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.

the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."

Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.

well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.

Next

[starsofang]

AN ANGEL WEEPS

guardian angel!simon x reader word count: 5k tw: NSFW, MDNI, death, bits of gore, religious themes, violence, heavy angst summary: simon would destroy the heavens and earth in order to be with you. heavily requested oneshot from this drabble!

Simon wasn’t partial to humans. You’d think with him being a guardian angel to many over the centuries, he would grow to like them. Really, it wasn’t that he disliked them, but more so couldn’t empathize with them like other angels could. Some were weak, some were selfish, some were burdening. All of them, though, were on borrowed time, and that was exactly where he came in.

There wasn’t ever a human life that Simon did not keep protected. All of his subordinates, as he called them, lived long enough to see their hair turn gray and their skin mold into wrinkles and age lines. Not once had a human died young under his watch, and he planned to keep it that way.

It seemed the gods held his professionalism to their advantage. Now that his previous subject had passed of old age, he was tasked with a new one. A more challenging one.

You, a high risk. Normally, people of your kind that had a doomed fate from birth were paired with angels who specialized in that. While Simon was practically one and the same with the others, he typically requested humans that wouldn’t be a pain in his ass.

You were different, though. Something about you compelled Simon to take on the task of being your guardian angel, and he was curious to find out what it was. You didn’t seem like you’d give him trouble at all. You were simply unfortunate in the hand of life, and he was determined to turn it in your favor.

On his first day of being your protector, he watched. Observed. He took the time to jot mental notes down of your routine. You weren’t a busy gal, that much he realized, but you were simple. He liked simple. It meant he wouldn’t have to chase you around like a loose pig escaping its pen.

The more he got to study you like a lab rat, the more he wondered what made you a high risk. You didn’t drink, nor did you do drugs. You didn’t spend the wee hours of the night partying. Hell, you didn’t even have a boyfriend to occupy your time. Even now, as he watched, you entered a bookstore, prancing around from shelf to shelf to read each book cover with keen interest, tucking your desired favorites under an arm.

Just from the first day alone, Simon came to think of you as soft and kind. You were the girl who helped the elderly cross the street, or the type that fed the stray cats in the alley, even if you used your last dollar to make it happen. You were a being with a heart of gold, and it was rare for Simon to see somebody so pure.

You were the type of person many took advantage of. He’d seen it plenty of times before – men and women of all kinds, using your big heart to get what they want, just to leave it shattered in pieces on the ground with no way of repairing it. Simon wouldn’t allow that to happen. He’d seen what he needed to see, and that was enough for him to become your permanent guard dog for the rest of your days, which he swore to himself would be bountiful.

There was one problem, though.

You could see him. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but when his little journey of following you around the city became abundantly clear, you confronted him about it, no bark, no bite. 

“Why are you following me?” you asked. Simon was fully expecting a tone of anger, a weak attempt at trying to be intimidating towards a brooding angel like him, but none of that came. In fact, despite your clear discomfort, you remained soft-spoken. Your voice was sweet as honey, smooth in the way it rolled off your tongue.

“Are you talkin’ to me?” Simon gruffed, eyes narrowing at you. You blinked at him dumbly, glancing around the bookstore before focusing back on him.

“Of course,” you confirmed in confusion.

He wasn’t sure what to do. This had never happened before, and it was wrong. Very, very wrong. Humans still partaking in the act of life weren’t able to see angels, let alone speak to them. It was against the very act of being angels. Silent protectors. Invisible.

Something was terribly off. Perhaps you were a fluke. Or perhaps you were far closer to death than he thought.

Simon was completely stumped. His very existence was the greatest kept secret in all of Earth’s lifespan. Not a single breathing soul knew of the actuality of angels. Sure, many believed in them – it wasn’t a secret in teachings, but that’s all it was. A belief. A strike of faith.

“Sir?” you called out. It successfully snapped him out of his spell-like hypnosis, realizing he was staring at you with a guise of puzzlement. He cleared his throat, standing a bit taller, eyes darting around the room.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go,” he muttered to himself. You made a noise of perplexity.

“Pardon?” you questioned. Simon silently cursed (lord forgive him).

“This,” he repeated, gesturing between the two of you with a hand. “You’re not supposed to see me. Something must be truly wrong.”

Your expression morphed into lines of confusion and concern, eyes widening into fearful saucers. You looked scarcely similar to a lost puppy, one who had just been told bad dog. Simon felt a twinge of sympathy in your favor. How confusing it must be to have been followed around by a man who was sorrowfully unaware that you knew of his presence.

“Are you a ghost?” you asked, causing a crack of a smile to threaten on Simon’s lips.

“Somethin’ like that,” he mused. “Perhaps this might be easier if we talk somewhere privately.”

At first, you looked hesitant, and he didn’t blame you. He knew how weary humans were of strangers, after all, but Simon was no stranger – at least, he wouldn’t be in his eyes. He would know you the longer he silently protected you as your guardian, while you remained blissfully oblivious to his existence. It seemed that part wasn’t in the cards this time around.

Somehow, you agreed, following him out of the bookstore and on to the bustling streets, walking side by side with him. It was silent at first, Simon keeping his eyes trained forward, alert to any dangers nearby. It was in his blood to sniff out misfortunes from a mile away, and considering your state of high risk, you attracted them like flies.

“Suppose I’ll give it to you straight,” he began, garnering your attention almost immediately. Your eyes were pooled with dread, most likely expecting horrible news. Or wondering why you had followed a strange man with so much blinded trust. “Do you believe in angels?”

“Angels?” you gawked, the words unexpected. It was the last thing you imagined he’d say, and it took you for a complete whirlwind. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you?” he repeated. He turned his head to look at you, noting the gears turning in that brain of yours. It was subtle, but you were an easy read.

“Yes, I guess I do. There’s no proof of them not existing, so I can’t exactly say they’re not real, right?” you claimed, and the warmth in your tone made Simon smile.

He quite liked your character so far. Easygoing with incredible wit and enthrall. It was a breath of fresh air from some of the other people he’d been subjected to. There wasn’t a hint of malice in your aura, no storm clouds that hovered over you in the form of looming threat, no black smoke billowing around you in a polluted smother.

In fact, it was nothing short of bright. Hues of yellow emanating beaming rays. A burst of sunlight, down to the bone.

“Smart girl,” Simon hummed softly, returning his gaze forward as the two of you walked. “This is your first time talkin’ to one, I presume.”

For a moment, you were silent. He could feel your eyes studying the side of his face, desperately attempting to pry open his mind and see inside for yourself. He allowed you the complexity of wishful thinking.

“What do you mean by that?” you dared to ask, curiosity getting the better of yourself. You didn’t feel like the smart girl he claimed you to be at all. Matter of fact, you were perhaps a very stupid girl for following an unfamiliar man and listening to him speak of a higher power. You were even stupider for blossoming an interest.

It was a difficult conversation to have, one Simon wasn’t prepared for at all. He had to explain it in blunt terms, introducing himself as your guardian angel while you stared at him like a dead fish.

Yet somehow, despite receiving such complex information, you accepted it, giving him a smile and your name that he already had mapped in the back of his memory. You didn’t shy away from him. He didn’t understand. He knew humans were complicated, but he had never met one so trusting of his word.

Simon fully expected a breakdown, or a freak out. Perhaps even a fuck off with you going about your day. Earthlings didn’t know that angels existed, so to meet your very own, one so tall and brooding, intimidating and unapproachable with large, white wings that tucked into the comfort of his back, hidden, it was a damning thing. But you accepted, so easily, too.

It was strange. You were strange. Not in a cruel way like he had previously thought of humans, but in a warm way that left him confused. Perplexed. Such a sweet thing like you, so free of judgment and malice, only to end up with a terrible fate such as yours.. Now that was cruel.

Simon took a liking to you after your official meeting. He tried to deny it, reminding himself of his purpose, but it was hard not to form a friendship with you when you wouldn’t allow him otherwise. He stuck to you like glue, never letting you stray out of sight, waiting in the dark hours of the night for you to wake, watching silently while you’d read a book every night.

Where you went, he went. When you slept, he watched over you longingly. When you wept, he ached.

You became of utmost importance to him. You were his priority before, but now, it was set in stone that Simon would strive to give you the longest life, filled with nothing short of love and worship. When he formed this goal in mind, a second problem arose – saddened over the fact that it wouldn’t be him sharing it with you.

“Simon?” you asked him one night. Book in your lap, long forgotten as you stared up at him with an innocent curiosity. You were a nosy one, something he found out rather quickly, but instead of being met with his own annoyance, he grew quite fond of your wonder. “Does everybody have a guardian angel?”

He never got tired of your questions. In fact, he encouraged them. Conversation with you came easy, whether it was in the bright rise of the morning, or the wee hours of midnight. Simon wasn’t much of a talker until you came around, but sharing endless moments when it was just the two of you conversing as people became his favorite routine.

Simon perked up to look at you, eyebrows furrowing at your question. “No. Not everybody,” he answered honestly. You tilted your head at him, curious.

“Then how come I have you?” you questioned.

Simon stared at you, mulling over your inquisition. A pang of guilt tightened his chest. He knew the truth, yet you didn’t. You were blissfully unaware of what was at stake, why the heavens decided to gift you with him as your protector. You didn’t know how weak your own lifeline was, how you risked slipping in the depths of death every ticking second of the day.

He knew what was waiting for you at the end of the line. When you’d reach it, though, was the question. And he wished he had the answer.

“You’re just a special case, dove,” he explained, trying his best to be comforting. The last thing he wanted was for you to worry, to find out the real reason why he was assigned to you. “Nothin’ to stress about. Some people just get them early.”

“Special case?” you repeated to yourself, finger pressing to your chin in thought, face pulling into confusion.

Simon remained silent, eyes shifting away from you to allow you the time to think. He knew you had a hyperactive mind, one that may have been the very thing to cause your future downfall, but he didn’t have the heart to stop it. Perhaps he was a selfish angel, for he loved hearing your voice, loved hearing the cluttered mess of your thoughts.

He was becoming dangerously devoted to you.

Angels and humans were not meant to form bonds. Simon was already being greedy by allowing it to happen rather than cutting it off from the root. He was your protector, your guardian, yet he excused the blossoming growth of your relationship as playing his role. The closer he got to you, the higher of a chance he had in saving you.

“Simon?” you called out once again, garnering his attention. He heard the hesitation in your own tone, as if you didn’t want to speak your mind. “I’m not going to die, am I?”

If Simon had a working heart, it would have shattered right there. If he had a living, human soul, it would’ve lost its glowing light, fading into aching darkness.

“No, dove,” he lied, flashing you an assuring smile. “M’just here to keep you safe, that’s all.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, and Simon felt that nauseating guilt crawl its way back under his skin. It pricked him with unease. He hated lying to you, providing empty promises that your life was under no threat.

He never worried about humans. He did as he was meant to do, and that was the extent of it. Yet with you, he worried that if he didn’t go above and beyond his normal procedures, your blood would be on his hands. He didn’t know if he could live with himself for the upcoming centuries if he failed to keep his promise.

A world where your laughter drifted away with the wind, rather than fill the air of his presence, was a world unworthy. A world without you would be unfair.

As Simon watched you return to your book, your curious mind put on temporary pause, he vowed to keep the Earth spinning with you on it, alive and well, safe and sound – just as he’s meant to do, without the baggage of complex emotions he shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

The longing for you never became easier. In fact, the progression of the harbored affection only grew tenfold. Iit was increasingly difficult to continue with his duty as your protector without coming to the admission.

Simon, an angel, was falling for a human he was meant to keep safe, keep alive. Two beings, divided by separate worlds, yet he resided in yours as if he belonged there. The more time he spent in your orbit, the more the desire blossomed.

He was a smart angel, one that had developed a keen sense for human emotion over the centuries spent silently observing them. Simon knew that his feelings weren’t unreciprocated, and it was what terrified him greatly. Fear and love, mixing in the absence of his own humanity, taking control of his motherboard and turning on autopilot.

He suppressed these feelings as much as he could. The hierarchs he reported to could have no hint of these befuddling emotions that were causing warmth to run through his bloodstream, as if he were slowly becoming human himself. He could not allow them, or himself, get in the way of his original mission.

That’s what he tried to do, at least.

It wasn’t until a normal night, pent up in your apartment with a warm mug of tea, a book nuzzled in your other hand and a blanket thrown across you to form a picture of pure sweetness, that his resolve began to crack.

You, innocent and curious you, always asking questions about him and never making the conversation selfishly about you, had requested to see his wings. The white, feathered beauties, tucked away in the dip of his shoulder blades, hidden and protected. You were considerate in the way you asked, giving him an opt out if he wasn’t comfortable. No human had ever seen his wings, let alone him, and he found denying you much more difficult than he thought it would be.

So he did as you asked – unfurled his wings, allowing the slow stretch to showcase them. The feathers ruffled with his movement, but they glowed radiantly with the picture-perfect white. Once they were untucked and on display, Simon realized how vulnerable all of this was. He was bearing himself to you with no obstacles standing in the way. He was showing the real part of himself, and you were watching in patient admiration, taking in every tuft of feather.

The wrongfulness of his action was smothered over with the look in your eyes. You gazed at him as if he were the most beautiful thing that God had created, setting aside your book and tea in order to step up to him fully. You were silent, taking him in, taking your time. When you carefully reached out a hand with an itch to feel the soft wings, he didn’t stop you. He should’ve, but he couldn’t.

“You’re wonderful,” you breathed, speaking of him so highly that it made the organ in his chest clench with an ache. Your touch was gentle, nimble fingers smoothing over the tuft feathers. The pads of your fingers were soft, and it caused him to relax, releasing a breath he was unaware of holding.

“Please do not say that to me,” he whispered, voice tight. He took a shaky breath in, shutting his eyes so he didn’t have to look into your own. “Please.”

Your eyes flickered across his face, taking in how reluctant he was. He was holding back, this you knew, and while you understood, a part of you wished he would open himself up. For months, you had walked a thin line, but it had quickly shifted into something more dangerous. Feelings, ones that matched his own.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized softly, beginning to take your hand off of his wing. Before you could remove it, his own hand caught yours, warm fingers wrapping around your smaller ones. He dared to open his eyes, nearly collapsing under the sparkling gaze you had so graciously reserved for him.

Slowly, he brought your hand up to his mouth, releasing a trembling breath before placing his lips to your soft skin. You watched silently, but made no move to pull away. “What are you doin’ to me, dove?” he asked, flustered. “This is… this is not right.”

His eyes bore into yours, sinking into your lovely irises, growing lost in them. There was an unfamiliar pounding in his chest, a foreign swarm of fluttering butterflies in his stomach, things only humans felt for one another. Angels were not meant to feel this way for a human, and humans were not supposed to know they existed.

Yet, he couldn’t deny the pure fondness he held towards you. How he sought you out in every given moment, how his body longed for you every morning and every night. His mind felt that this was right, that it was meant to be, while the voice in the back of his head told him this would end in misery.

With the way you were looking at him as if he had captured the sun and stars just for you, he found himself moving without thought. Lips pressing to yours, his hand gripping your own in a vice, as if scared you may crumble to ash if he let go. You reciprocated, and that was your mistake – there was no going back, and Simon wasn’t sure if he’d want to.

Humans performed things in the heat of the moment. It was something Simon had come to learn over his many years of study, yet him kissing you so suddenly had made him feel like one. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating all at once. To feel alive, to feel real.

He performed the ultimate act of sin with you. He was clumsy and awkward, inexperienced in the way he had you melting on his tongue, arching your back off of the sofa he took you on. Everything you offered would have him sent into an early grave if he were a living being. Ironic, considering it was you on that path, something he had forgotten about in between your shared intimacy.

Simon never knew how wonderful it felt to be connected with a mortal in a physical sense. Inside of you, engulfed in your warmth that clenched around him so deliciously, writhing beneath him like a fever was coursing through your veins. You looked lovely, even with a scorching warmth to your skin and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead.

His wings cocooned around you both as he lost himself in you, swallowing your beautiful whines that resembled heaven’s choir. Your hand caressed the soft feathers of his wings while the other held on to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, grounding yourself.

Everything about this act was pure sin. It was a test of the devil himself, and he had strayed off of the path of forgiveness and had ventured to a land of lustful desire. Yet, he continued on the path, moving on his own free will further and further the more your body took him in. Your pleasure was his newfound call, his new purpose.

As your body succumbed to its own heated climax, he watched in awe at the way your mouth fell open, eyes lidded halfway, clouding over with a lovely husk of satisfaction. You were more beautiful than any heaven he had seen, and if Simon could die, he’d seek you as his afterlife.

He should’ve regretted it. It was in his blood to find purity, to hold value in the sentiment of God. But as he laid there, your body spent and exhausted, soft breaths leaving your lips, he felt no such thing. He wrapped his wings around you, smothering you in a security blanket, using the purest part of him to keep you sound.

Simon should’ve known that the moment he fell in love with you, things would never go the way he wanted. He should’ve reminded himself of why he was your guardian in the first place, yet he had been nothing but selfish. He involved himself in you far too much, ignoring the angel on his right shoulder in order to listen to the devil on his left.

When he had been told you were a high risk, he never would’ve imagined that he would be the reason.

Everything happened far too quickly for Simon to comprehend. He wasn’t paying attention, he wasn’t protecting you. It seemed almost instant that your body had been struck in the middle of the street, the night sky making everything much foggier to the eye. It started out as such a simple night, with Simon following along behind you while you made a stop at a crosswalk to pass the street.

Distracted by the flowers displayed in the window of a pretty flower shop, he was consumed by thoughts of wanting to surprise you with them. Though he was a mere angel and could get you flowers from mother Earth herself, he knew humans had different sentiments, flowers being one of them. While pondering which flower you might prefer, the entire world had stopped in the midst.

Dreadful sounds of tires screeching, a loud explosion of crashing noises that made his ears prick, and you – silent. Not a single peep. It made his blood run cold, because you weren’t silent. You were curious, talkative, always letting it slip what was on your mind.

Simon stared at your unmoving body on the road, battered and bloodied, tainted with impurity. It was the complete opposite of what you had been. It was something you should’ve never been in the first place.

His legs moved before he could tell them to, and he found himself crumbling to the ground, taking hold of your body in his arms. Blood seeped from your head, painting your skin an ugly crimson. It was thick and vile. It didn’t belong. Not on you.

He became frantic. He didn’t have to listen to know your heart was no longer beating, because he just knew. You were the tattered version of yourself. A corpse, no longer able to smile at him, or ask your silly questions, or tell him you loved him. You were dead, just as your prophecy had predicted, and Simon had failed.

Weeping over your body did nothing to change fate. For the first time in all of Simon’s life span, he cried, ugly tears and snot, babbling nonsense from his mouth as he begged for you to wake up. He shook you in desperation, before holding you close to his chest and securing his wings around the two of you, unable to bear the thought that he had lost you.

The heavens were in havoc. One of their beloved angels, falling for a mortal? Completing acts of sin? It was true blasphemy, a desecration to their name. The world as they knew it was falling apart, and it was all because Simon was selfish and unholy.

Tossing him out was done without question. Sent to the burning pits of hell, white feathers falling from his wings only to be replaced with raven, black and nightmarish. He was one of hell’s fallen angels, while you remained at the top, separated and alone. Simon was one of God’s failed creations, and no amount of redemption or prayer would have him fluttering back up to his pearly gates. Home was no more, though he was sure that at some point, heaven was forgotten and you had replaced that title before he lost you.

Being apart from you was torturous. It felt as if he was missing half of his body, half of his soul. Apart of different worlds once again, not meant to be. Unfated. Simon couldn’t allow that to happen.

Even if it took him years to return to his beloved, he would do it. Even if it meant trudging through the depths of hell in order to crawl to the top, he’d complete the journey without pause.

Heaven may be strong, but his love for you was stronger.

War broke out between the heavens and hell. Colliding forces, shedding blood of the pure, and venom of the demented. It was a battlefield that Simon had been the cause for, vision red with rage. He saw nothing but the fueling desire to be reunited with you, and it wouldn’t simmer until that occurred.

Far too much time passed since he had seen you. Years, even, though he wasn’t sure – everything felt like a lifetime without you by his side. He had lost count of how many sins he had committed, how many angels he had slain in order to become one step closer to seeking your soul. The lovely angel Simon had once been was murdered and buried, filled with angry vengeance that poked through the eyes of a devil.

He wondered if you would forgive him, if you would still love him. After all, he was a blackened version of himself, no longer the image of purity. He was a beast unleashed.

All of those worries melted away into a yearning ache when all war had ceased. You had been expecting him, it seems, waiting for him. Your soul was still as radiant as ever, yet he was now a dark void in comparison.

“Simon,” you greeted, and oh, how he missed your sweet melody. Your voice alone, saying his name, had put out the raging fire in his bones.

“Dove,” he responded back, breathless. His heart was in his throat as he waited for your reaction, to see how you felt about him. His wings no longer white, his soul no longer sacred.

Time had taken a pause as the two of you stared at one another from your place in heaven. He was back in the place he originated from, yet it felt cold and desolate. It was a grueling task to make it this far, and he prayed it wasn’t in vain.

“Your wings,” you commented, eyes fluttering down to take in the raven feathers. He sucked in a breath, prepared to hear your disappointment, but it never came. “They’re wonderful.”

It was the exact words you had used to describe him as an angel. Your love for him hadn’t changed, even though he did.

Simon smiled at you, full of light and warmth. You smiled back, and he was a done-for man. That smile was the reason for the heavens falling apart, yet it was still the most beautiful thing he’d come across. He never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ve come all this way for you, dove,” he murmured softly, taking a step forward. He reached out for your hand, holding it so tenderly in his. He lifted it, placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please, come back with me. Come home.”

To hell. To madness.

None of that mattered. Simon wouldn’t make the same mistake that he did when you were alive. This time, you would not be met with a foul end, and he would not live a life of regret.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands before looking back up at him, meeting his eyes. Your own were just as fond as before, lit up with the undying love that had never left.

“Take me home, Simon,” you assured, and the church bells sang.

i had many people asking for a full fic of guardian angel simon, so i am here to deliver. this concept's been on my mind for a while, and i finally pushed thru and wrote it fully, so i pray that it lives up to the standards everybody wanted <3

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HIS SONGBIRD

Warning: english is not my first language, aemond is obsessed, mention of masturbation

Kings landing was always bustling, whether it was merchants offering their wares or whores luring passers-by into the house of pleasure. There were thousands of voices in the city, but recently there was one more that was louder and kinder than the others. A voice that used to sing for money, food, or a place to sleep. A voice that every innkeeper wished to have with him, because his sound attracted customers even from the outskirts of the city. Lately, the owner of the voice has been seen in very crowded marketplaces singing songs encouraging the common people to support the rightful Queen Rheanyra. These meetings were always ended by golden cloaks that began to make their way through the crowd, but the girl always miraculously evaporated in the adjacent alleys.

Aemond left the brothel in the early hours of the morning. He was tired, stayed up all night and told his woes to the madam in the brothel. He felt a little better, but he was still bothered by the fact that without the coin, the madam wouldn't even look at him. All he longed for was his soft bed with its silky, cool sheets. When he saw a female figure dancing and tapping a tambourine to the beat of a song. Her voice left him mesmerized, he was used to bards from the court, or the songs of dragons as they soared into the sky. Her voice felt like cold water after days of thirst, he listened to her voice so much that he didn't even realize the words of the song.

In the shadow of the palace, the people cry,

Underneath the gilded rooftops, where the hungry die.

Golden crowns and silver spoons, but empty plates,

While the children of the kingdom face their cruel fate.

From the throne, they preach of grace and charity,

But in the streets, there’s only pain and disparity.

Hey, King, can’t you see?

Your people starve while you feast.

Hey, Dowager Queen, hear our plea,

In your kingdom of the beast.

No more, no more, we won’t bow

We’re rising up, we’re shouting now.

These words, although not directed at him, angered him. How could this street rat say this about the royal family and how people seemed to agree with her.

And you know what they say don't make a dragon angry.,, Hey you, stop now.” he yelled at her. Her face immediately realized that silver hair meant trouble for her. Before he could blink, her dark blue skirt was already disappearing around the corner. He immediately ran after her, pushing several people out of his way. He couldn't even see her properly for several streets, he always caught a glimpse of her hair, or the edge of her purple scarf tied around her hips. In one street he thought he had lost her for good, when he heard the faint strumming of a tambourine coming from under the cloak of a veiled figure walking hand in hand with a little girl. He slowly followed them, the tall figure didn't turn, but the little girl periodically turned and watched him. When the figure, which turned out to be an unknown singer, finally approached them within two steps, she pushed the little girl into the next alley. “Run Jenny.” she called to her and ran into another alley that turned out to be a dead end.,, Now what about songbird, looks like you're trapped.” he taunted. "Don't worry, prince, I won't be in it for long," she snapped back at him. He didn't even realize it, but they were standing in an alley that housed a woodworking shop. A log was leaning against the wall that blocked the end of the street. Like a wild cat, the woman leaped onto that log and climbed onto the roof of the wall and kicked the log down so he couldn't climb up to her.,, Goodbye one eyed prince I hope you enjoyed my performance.” she taunted him.,, Once I will catch you and then your treacherous head will be exposed for all to see.” he cursed at her. "That sounds very good, you're very interesting Targaryen prince, maybe I'll write my next song about you." But before the girl could disappear, her scarf got caught on a piece of chipped wall, unfortunately the woman was already jumping to the other side of the wall, so her scarf remained gets stuck in the wall.

The next day, a new song about the one-eyed Targaryen was heard throughout the city.

Hey, Aemond, how’s it feel to be so bold? With all your fire, yet your heart is cold. Hey, Aemond, playing the warrior prince, We all laugh at your pretense. In the shadow of your brother, you try to stand tall, But you're just a puppet at the grandest ball. Scheming and plotting, with your dragon's might, But when it comes to bravery, you’re out of sight. You talk of honor, of strength and pride, But without your dragon, where do you hide?

Although the song offended him, something inside him warmed his heart. He made such an impression on her that she wrote a song about him. He could only smile and listen to her voice waft through the city as he pulled her scarf to his nose and breathed in her scent. It was a mix of herbs and smoke, the combination made his cock harden again, and his red head was already leaking some of his spending onto his stomach.

Oh, the next time he sees you won't run away from him, he'll keep you as his own little bird just for his pleasure, he'll put you in a golden cage so you'll never fly away from him again.

Pt.2????

If anyone have request i would be happy to write it for you.

And only best for you. kisses

[waaayoutofline]

When the Cat and the Mouse go for a midnight dance.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Agent Natasha x Criminal // Antihero Reader, violence, blood, murder and death, questionable moral reader, romantic insinuation (but not smut). Basically reader being a little shit and Natasha being tired of it. Fun and violent times :)

Summary —> Natasha has been chasing you, a fugitive and self claimed vigilante, for a while. One night, your paths cross again and you can’t help but to tease her a bit.

Part 1 | Part 2

WORD COUNT: 2025

The sun’s warmth has faded, yielding to dense shadows that engulf the streets. Amid dark corners and treacherous alleys, fear triggers instincts, the sympathetic system heightening defenses and hijacking paranoia. Adrenaline kicks in, heart racing, body preparing for any kind of danger looming around the corners.

And yet, you’ve always found a sense of comfort in it.

“Nah, I’m telling you, man, forget him. I’m not going back; that place is a hellhole.” a slightly drunk voice slurs, echoing against brick walls as rats scurry from dumpsters. A lighter crackles, followed by smoke drifting in the chilled breeze.

”Oh yeah? So, when are you telling him that?” Another scrawny voice asks with amusement. A silence, followed by a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Smoke drifts slightly with the breeze, temperature drooping slightly.

“Shit, it's freezing out here.” One of the two complains.

The darkness the night brings…It allows you to hide. Yourself, your actions. From praying eyes. From the world. Perhaps even God if you are a believer.

“We’ve been safeguarding the warehouse for ages. What’s in there that he cares so much about?” he asks, taking another drag of his cigarette. For his voice, it was easy to guess he has had the nasty habit of smoking for years.

“Who knows. Drugs, guns, people…his usual shit.” His friend answers. “Honestly, I rather not know.”

You take the shot on your hand, leaving it on the trail before shaking your hair messily. A sigh scapes your lips as your hands pull down on your uncomfortably short dress.

“Whatever. I don’t give a damn as long as the money keeps flowing. Maybe he could throw in one of those spare companions of his.” The smile in his tone is evident.

“What? Want his sloppy seconds?”

“Oh fuck off.”

It allows you to either be the prey…or the hunter.

With practiced, seemingly haphazard steps, you maneuver your way toward one of the two men outside, their head turning immediately. “Woah there, sweetheart,” the one who catches you slurs, his hands immediately on your waist. His eyes darkening as he stares at you. “We wouldn’t want a sweet thing like you to hurt herself now, would we?” His breath reeks of bourbon and tobacco, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at how effortlessly this is playing out.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Your voice is sweet, innocent—a trap. “I’m so clumsy.” He laughs, revealing yellowed and crooked teeth.

“That’s alright, glad I was here.” A silly giggle, another stumble.

“Got lost?” His friend asks, currently behind you. “You shouldn’t be. There are dangerous people out here.”

At least he got that part right.

The shorter one of the two steps closer. “I was just looking for something. Think you can help?” you say, looking up with doe eyes. He appears foolish as he stares with a blurry gaze.

A whistle. “Sure thing.” You find yourself almost trapped between the two.

“Great, thanks.” Your voice returns to normal, and in a matter of seconds, you punch the one in front of you in the throat. His dirty, clammy fingers release you in panic to clutch his throat, emitting a pathetic choking sound.

“What the fu-” As his friend reacts, you swiftly turn around and knee him in the groin. He howls and crumples to the floor with a cry.

“You bitch-“ Douchebg A says as he swings, movement sloppy. You easily dodge, making him tip and fall over his buddie, the two grunting. With a sigh, you grab the collar of his jacket and drag him to the vent of the rooftop, slamming him extra hard for good measure.

He is about to strand up, but you punch him on his nose with all your strength, one, two, three times until blood drips all over his gray shirt. As his back drags down the wall behind him, you kick him full force on the face.Between the pain and the alcohol on his system, he remains seated.

Just as Douchebag B gets on all fours, you walk towards him and kick him on the stomach, making him drop to the floor once again. He rolls around, trying to get away but you grab his hair and slam him downwards.

Making sure both of them are now unmoving, your hands catch the dagger strapped on your thigh and the map. Douchebag B is still wheezing, with a concussion probably. Crouching, you shove the map on his face. “Alright. So, about that help. Point to me where the warehouse is.”

He grunts. “Like hell I’ll tell you.” He spits. A sigh escapes your lips.

”It’s never easy with you people, is it?” Flipping your dagger, you stab in the side of his lower thigh, making him yelp. “I’m not asking nicely again. Point it or I’ll take this out and you’ll bleed out in a few minutes.”

He sputters, shaking his head. You dig deeper and he lets out another cry. Dragging it down, blood starts to spurt, skin and muscle ripping. “Fuck okay, okay! Here, i-its here…S-shit.” His shaky hands marks a street, leaving a smear of blood.

You turn to watch Douchebag A. “Now, you are going to say the address. I hope for both your sakes that it matches.” He mutters it. A pause as your eyes scans the map.

You fold it, a satisfied little smile on your face and then you pull the knife out, getting away just in time to avoid a spurt of blood. “Uh, messy.”

His friends curses. You can see how his face gets pale, breaths becoming shallower as a pool of blood starts to surround him. “What the fuc- He told you! W-we told you!”

Wiping the knife with the soon-to-be dead man on the ground, you put it back in place and walk towards him. A pipe on the ground lifts as you step on it and you grab it.You pout mockingly. “Yeah, I guess you did. Don’t worry, I believe you.”

“Y-you sick bit-..:”

A swing. Two. A sickening sound of broken bones and then nothing.

The silence returns once again, only slightly disturbed by your soft humming as you go back on your steps, closing the rooftop door and returning to the dim hallways of the club. As you advance, the thrumming of the loud music beat alongside your racing heart, a mass of drunken bodies not giving a single fuck at the suspicious now maroon spot on your midnight blue dress.

Entering the bathroom, you swiftly change into your standard attire, concealed within a hidden backpack. Black jeans, a wine crop top, and a dark blue denim jacket replace the compromised ensemble. Glancing in the mirror, you prepare to rejoin the dance floor with a specific goal in mind—the bar.

Where a cute, striking bartender is apparently engrossed in serving drinks. You say apparently because you know that in reality, she is too busy searching for you. Opting to spare her the pursuit, you lock eyes, and your heart quickens for an entirely different reason.

Forest green eyes fixate solely on you, creating a euphoria-like sensation despite your sobriety. A subtle smirk materializes under the focused gaze, and with a gentle sway of your hips, you approach her slowly, almost teasingly. On your way, you accidentally get in the way of a woman, who ends up backing away on a body next to her. ”Oh, so sorry!” You call out with an easy smile, still not changing directions.

“What? Not using the “what is such a beautiful lady like yourself doing here out of all places” line?” You tease, sitting on the stool, resting your chin on your right hand. She scoffs.

”Oh please, we both know that the lady is fully aware of what she is doing.” Her voice is deep, a bit raspy. Her words are calculated and you just want for her to lose her composure.

With a playful tone, you note. “Hm, you didn’t deny the “beautiful”. Do you fancy me, Agent Romanoff?”

“Hm, perhaps. If only you weren’t a worldwide fugitive.” Natasha answers back, tone dripping with mockery.

”I’l take that as a yes.” She wipes a glass, your eyes tracking the simple yet effective movements. “So, tell me. How many to the party did you bring today? For your sake, I hope they aren’t rookies.”

Natasha scoffs. “The building is surrounded. If you come willingly now, it all would go more…easy. For both of us.”

A snort. ”Aw, and cut short this cute Tom and Jerry little game we have? Please. We both know you enjoy it just as much as me, Natalia.” Her name comes out in almost a whisper as you get slightly closer. Your words hang in the air, charged with tension. “Don't tell me you don’t reveal on the thrill of the chase.”

She chuckles, the sound rich and low. “You and your flair for the dramatic. But let's not forget the reality of our situation. You are a criminal, and I’m tasked with bringing you in.”

It’s funny, really. The way in which this banter is maybe the only thing that makes adrenaline rush into your veins, well that besides your job of course. Still, you can't help but feel amused by it. “Yeah, sure, because your buddies are going to stop me. Let’s see, then!”

Clapping with your hands happily, you turn around slightly to look at the crowd. “Who will it be? PDA couplet over there?”

Natasha follows your pointing thumb, frowning when she sees the girl you shoved “accidentally”, now passionately making out with a tall, brunette dude. “The ones who guarded the exits which are currently tied up in the janitors closet?…Or perhaps the one who will tell you about my little handywork?”

Just in time, a slight buzzing tingles in the Russian agent’s ear. “Agent Romanoff, we found two gang members on the roof. One is already dead, several blunt trauma, and the other is about to bleed out. I’d say he has a few minutes tops.”

Her veiny hand grips the counter, knuckles turning white. A low whistle escapes you at the sight. “I mean, you could try and stop me yourself. Let me say, I’m not opposed to you putting me in handcuffs.” You tease with a dangerous glint in your eyes, your fingers tracing her left wrist up to her bicep. If she is bothered because of your touch, she doesn’t show it. But you see how her grip relaxes ever so slightly. Hm, interesting. “...or you could go, get the information from that dying bastard before it’s too late and you find yourself being stuck in a dead-end. Again.”

The wheels in her head are practically visible. Her eyes darken, and her jaw tenses. Oh, how you love to see her all worked up, knowing that you are one of the few who can break her cold composure. You mouth a tick-tock and with a hard downing of the bottle on her hand to the counter.

”This isn’t over. I’ll get my hands on you eventually.”

A pout. “Promise?” With a last scowl, she flies off.

Rushing through the stairs, the cold air hits Natasha on the face, her eyes adjusting to the poor light. “How is he?” Her eyes fall on the weapons you used, hand grabbing the now blooded pipe.

“I already cover the wound, but the blood…he's loosing too much. He won't make it to the medbay.” Crouching next to him, Natasha see the sickly pale tone of his face, eyes practically close and hears the shallow, broken breaths. Her eyes inspect the now covered deadly wound and grunts in frustration. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response. He is dead. Out of frustration, she punches the vent next to him. “Um, ma’am? You should see this.”

A brick wall, right next to the door, with a message written in blood. “When you stop scowling, give me a call dear. Swear I’ll play nice.”

Grunting in frustration, Natasha throws the pipe against the wall, fuming. Looking over the street, she doesn’t see you anywhere. You are gone, even if something tells her you are giggling under the shadows.

[valkyriesaga-if]

Built a few years after the Collapse, the city of Yggdrasil was meant to be a haven, a refuge. A utopia, where everyone could find their place and be equals.

But that’s the thing with utopias and ideals; they don’t last very long.

Yggdrasil was barely 20 years old when the Magi Council rose above their human brethren, firmly splitting society in two: the magi on one side, who wield privilege like a sword, and the humans on the other, whose only privilege was to stay alive and quiet.

After all, how can you deny Magi what they want, when they are the only thing protecting you from what’s outside the walls?

You’ve been living in the Helheim district for almost as long as you can remember, raised amongst crooks, conmen and criminals all your life. While this hardly seems like ideal conditions to raise a child, it was better than having the Council find out your secret. Helheim was the best place for secrets. You knew it, your mother knew it, everyone in Yggdrasil knew it.

You’re an undeclared Magi. In a city where showing the barest hint of magic can get a child taken away from their parents and chain them forever to the Council of Magi, raising a child under the watching eyes of kingpins, thieves and prostitutes was a shield, an armor. The best protection love could offer.

Every day, you live on the edge of the razor. One wrong move and your life could be upended entirely. But when your mother is on the verge of losing her house, her business, her entire life to Greed, you can’t just sit there and watch it happen.

Being hired to steal the Eyes of The Watcher, the most precious gems in all of Yggdrasil, located right in the heart of the Council Chamber, didn’t seem like such a bad idea, at the time.

Genre

Post apocalyptic, urban fantasy, heist

Content Warning

The story will be 18+ for violence, potential sexual themes, explicit content and gore.

Fully customizable MC: name, gender identity, sexuality, appearance, personality and demeanor

Interact with a varied cast of NPCs

Shape your relationships with your fellow gang members, from lovers to platonic besties, all the while keeping in mind that they are all criminals and liars, just like you.

Experience the Nightmares™

Engage in highly illegal, highly dangerous activities, and maybe some light rebellion and overthrow of authority on the side

Polish your skills such as stealth, combat or knowledge, and discover more about your magic

Spend some time in the luxurious streets of Asgard and other delightful places such as a Helheim fighting ring, the city sewers or a defunct meat factory

Hallucinate?

Pet the cat

The selfish mercenary - Lònan [M, he/him]

Money is the only thing that matters to Lònan. He has made that very clear since the beginning. Obviously, he doesn’t seem to care that much about his own life, otherwise he would have found another way to make a fortune. One that doesn’t involve going into the heart of the enemy territory to steal the most valuable and well guarded artifact in town, for example. Just a thought.

The disgraced Magi - Yugō [M, he/him]

Magi have virtually everything they might want. Money, luxury, and an unending hoard of lackeys to cater to their every need. So you can’t help but wonder what might lead one of them to hide amongst the rats in the dark alleys of Helheim, and Yugo is not inclined to answer your questions.

The unwelcome guest - Halloran [M, he/him]

No one really knows who Halloran is or what he wants, but he seems to keep inviting himself in your dreams, taking great pleasure in playing with you and your sanity. Only he is a cat playing with a mouse, and you can only hope that he won’t eat you whole.

The estranged friend - Mavis [F, she/her]

Back in the time you lived in Midgard West, you and Mavis used to be friends, practically joined by the hip. While she remained as kind and gentle as you remember her, there is a hard edge to her eyes that wasn’t there before.

The mysterious outsider - Koyal [F, she/her]

A courier from outside of town, you’re not sure why she joined your ragtag group of criminals. Calm and quiet, she mostly keeps to herself, but you can’t help but feel her watchful gaze on you every time you have your back turned.

The disembodied voice - Morgane [F, she/her]

You’ve never met her in person, your only contacts with her being over the phone, as she gives instructions to you and the rest of the group. She seems to be the only one in direct relation with the person who hired you for some trivial B&E in the most secure facility in Yggdrasil.

Lònan/Yugō and Koyal/Halloran are potential poly routes.

TBA

This is my first IF and English is not my first language, so feel free to send any constructive criticisms and corrections my way.

This is very early development, so many things are subject to change as i work on the story

Asks are welcome and reblogs appreciated!

[jackactuallywrites]

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x You

Rating: Nothing explicit, no sex or egregious violence

Warnings: Gun violence? And he does steal her phone

Summary: You go chasing cats and find a lot more than you bargained for

Notes: It’s been sat in my drafts for ages and the first part is a little slow so bear with x

Word Count: 1,893

ao3 link

Yet again, it was there.

A little cat, dark grey, striped with lighter grey, with a white belly and paws, sniffing around the large green bins in the dingy alleyway. The white of its fur was stained with various unpleasant shades of brown, the cause for which you didn't want to think about. It had clearly found something of interest to it underneath the large dumpster, crouching down on its elbows, stretching out one of its front paws to try and grab whatever lay there, unbothered by the wet grime on the ground staining its fur. With your human eyes, you weren't privileged enough to see what tasty treat lay just out of reach, but you were able to see the thick ring of plastic that was wrapped around the creature's neck, no doubt digging into the skin, tighter and tighter as the smaller kitten grew from a desperate mewling creature into a lean, wary cat. As of yet, it hadn't seen you, still focused on its mission, but the second you took a single step forward, a tiny pebble grated underneath your shoe, and the stray's head snapped up, its distrusting yellow eyes slicing over to you.

"Kitty-" You ventured, trying to keep your voice as gentle as possible, soft and sweet, but the kitten took off, sprinting down the alleyway, the plastic from the six-pack ring sticking out above it as it ran. You briefly glanced back to the road that led you back home, already idly entertaining giving up on your quest. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, as it did on your walks home from work, giving you at least two more hours of sunlight. And yet, it wasn't like you had anything all that important to get to at home; besides, it was a fairly pleasant evening, still warm and sunny despite the clouds, and you didn't keep cat treats in your pocket for no reason, so you took after the little cat, doing your best to keep a distance enough not to spur it into sprinting away. It was only vaguely suspicious of you, looking back over its shoulder at you every so often to see if you were still following, its sprint having slowed into a trot, its tail low, yet not poofed up, uneasy, but not afraid.

It was taking you on an incredibly complicated path through the city, zigging and zagging through innumerable side streets and alleys, making you increasingly thankful that you'd chosen to wear your trainers rather than the slip-on shoes which would have given you a throbbing blister after so much running. Slowly but surely, the cat was taking you further out from the populated areas into the industrial zone where every other building you walked past had been abandoned. You assumed that it had someplace out here, safe away from anyone who would wish it harm, sheltered from wind and rain, and undoubtedly near a decent supply of mice and rats. It was doing a good job at trying to throw you off, and you almost lost it a few times, but eventually, it led you to a dead end, a skinny alleyway ending in a tall chain-link fence topped with razor-sharp barbed wire. At least, you thought it was a dead end, yet down in the corner, you could see the way the links were slightly uneven, breaking the pattern. In a closer look, you could see where the fence had been cut, the fence curling away from itself, and it was through this small gap that the cat escaped yet again.

You were beginning to believe that you were wasting your evening; clearly, this cat was far too wily to allow itself to be caught by any bumbling human, but it was watching you from the other side of the fence as though it was waiting for you to catch up, as though all this running had been a great game to it. You could give it one more try, at the very least. The break in the fence was plenty large enough for you to slip through, even standing straight up, the sharp metal tugging on the fabric of your jumper and sliding harmlessly over the thick denim of your jeans. The cat was waiting a little ways away from you, sitting at the edge of a building up ahead, two buildings down from you, watching you with its large, suspicious eyes before taking a leisurely walk around the building, its tail now held straight out, flicking slightly. It was intrigued by you. You moved quickly, half crouched as you walked over to where the cat had disappeared, glancing down the gaps between buildings as you did so.

There was a large security camera pointing directly at you, staring down at your face as you peered around the corner of the building. You froze in your place, terrified that at any moment, the police would be called. The cat was sitting almost directly underneath it, watching you leisurely, entirely unaware of your human problems. It was so close to you, and you glanced between it and the camera, trying to weigh up the danger you were in. The light on top of the camera was dark, where it could have been blinking red, and you decided that it must mean it was off. After all, these buildings were abandoned, and as long as you weren't doing anything too illegal, you doubted that the red and blues would come running. You crouched down, holding out your hand to the cat, gently rubbing your fingers together to beckon it, making soft kissy sounds at it, keeping your voice quiet, "Kitty! Come here, kitty!" It didn't move towards you, nor did it move away, flicking its tail as it watched you. You closed your eyes slowly at it, trying to demonstrate your pure intentions, and after a minute, the cat returned the gesture, a great step in the right direction.

You remained still, unwilling to take a single further step toward it lest you spook it. It remained still, watching you blink at it, apparently having every second in the world to play around, enjoying making you work for its friendship. Then, it shot to its feet and sprinted away, leaving you puzzled. You hadn't made a single further move toward it. It only took a second for you to realise what exactly had spooked it, but by then, it was too late. The hand was already on your shoulder, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall, the hard edge of a gun pressed into the centre of your chest. Your attention was fully dragged away from the cat, flicking over to the person holding you at gunpoint. They were taller than you, not that they needed the advantage of height when they had a gun to your chest, dressed in black tactical gear and wearing a black balaclava with a white skull painted on it, with only their eyes revealed. A warm green colour, but they were cold, like chips from a mossy glacier. That iciness was reflected in the voice, his voice, whisper quiet. "Don't. Move."

You weren't sure you'd ever even seen a gun in person, yet now you had the barrel of one pressed up against you, and you felt as though every drop of blood in your body had gone cold. "I'm just looking for a cat." Your voice was a soft plead, not a tone you'd ever heard from your own mouth before, your body acting entirely on instinct. The man frowned at you, using only his gun to hold you in place as his other hand reached out to pat you down. He was a soldier; that much was clear from his uniform and the casual indifference with which he seemed to regard the concept of killing you. His hand roamed down over your arms, roughly grasping at them underneath your jumper, then went down your sides. You allowed it, knowing that it was necessary in order for you to escape with your life, knowing that he would find nothing. He paused at the bulge in your front jean pocket, his pale eyes flicking up to you questioningly, and you answered, "Cat treats." Still, he didn't trust you, digging them out of your pocket to confirm your answer, his eyes flicking over the bright colours of the packet before tossing them aside. You didn't dare even breathe as he patted down your jeans, identifying your phone in the other front pocket. He pulled out your phone, his eyes flicking down to the screen and then back up to you, showing you the lock screen.

"Unlock it."

Even with the gun to your chest, you still hesitated about unlocking your phone for a stranger, your mouth opening to argue with him before your brain caught up with you, not allowing a single word of dissent past your lips. He pressed the gun harder against your chest, the metal digging into your chest through the thin material of your jumper, his eyes hard, and you gave up, reaching up with your fingers to tap in your passcode. He looked down at your phone, swiping through to see your apps and then flicking through your recent photos, only finding endless pictures of you and your cats, as well as the various street cats you encountered on your walk to work. His gaze snapped up to your face once more, flicking across your features as though he was beginning to understand something about you.

Finally, he let up.

"How did you get in?" His voice was slightly less harsh this time. There was still the hard military edge, but now he had more of a questioning tone, as though he was beginning to believe your innocence. "There's a gap in the fence. The cat went through it. I followed." He frowned, his brows furrowing underneath the slightly smudged black paint, and he lifted the barrel of the gun off your chest, taking a step back from you, pocketing your phone as he did so. "Show me." There was no polite question in his voice, only demand, and you knew you had no choice but to obey. With the gun still pointed directly at your heart, it wasn't like you were in any position to refuse. At least now, the barrel wasn't pushed up against you, and you relished every inch of freedom given.

With one last look for that mildly traitorous cat, you led the soldier over to the small gap in the fence you had come through, acutely aware of the weapon still aimed directly at you, gesturing towards the broken chain links with your hand. "It came through here." You felt the tap of the gun between your shoulders, and another command was uttered to you, "Go on then." You glanced over your shoulder at the man, "My phone?" “Go.” You hesitated, but it quickly became apparent that either you left without your phone or you didn’t leave at all. It wasn’t a decision you were happy to make, but it wasn’t as though you had much choice in the matter, so you left it in the hands of the soldier, not giving him a second look as you left, hoping to leave it all behind as an unhappy memory.

[archangeldyke-all]

doing asks publicly makes me so nervous but i'm gonna do it anywayssss. i sent you a couple of asks but you said you didn't get it so im gonna send you this one that i've been thinking about for a hot minute-- i think its really cute like omgmgggg ANYWAYS

sevika with a younger (20s) vampire reader who watches her from afar and leaves her really pretty vintage looking gifts, romantic poems, and cute love notes? basically just the reader leaving stuff that sevi takes an interest in!! i'd love for this to be with a black reader if possible <3

this is so cuteeee!!

a quick note and disclaimer before we start! i don't know much about vampire lore, just the very basic stuff, so i apologize if this isn't the exact vampire vibe you were hoping for, or if i get some things wrong, i'm mostly just guessing hahah. also! i'm white, and i'll try my best to make this an obviously black reader without shoving it down your throat, but if i get anything wrong, please lmk and i'll fix it right away :)

men and minors dni

zaun is a great place for a vampire to live. sunlight rarely reaches the low levels of the city, leaving you free to roam whenever you want, day or night.

additionally, the abundance of crime and violence, as well as the lack of any real help from piltover, means that the occasional dead body (both human and animal) with puncture wounds in their necks go relavitely unnoticed.

it's these reasons that made you decide to settle down in zaun for a while.

it's sevika that made you decide to stay.

you've never met the woman, at least not traditionally, but that doesn't mean you don't know her.

the first time the two of you crossed paths was one late night in the dingy streets of the lanes.

you were starving, out searching for a rat or cat or maybe even a man harassing some poor girl to sink your fangs into. you had wandered away from your usual haunts and toward the newly re-furbished 'last drop.'

rumor had it that the new owner had some shady dealings on the side. you figured it'd be a good as place as any to catch a scumbag in action, or maybe find someone so drugged out on shimmer they wouldn't notice waking up the next morning with a pint of blood or so missing.

as you approached the bar, the few stragglers out this late grew into a rambunctious crowd. you grinned, ducking into a dark alley, licking your lips in anticipation of your next meal.

it took no time at all for you to find your target. a crowd was standing outside the bar, laughing and goofing off as they played with a handful of dice and passed around some cigars and joints. a girl in the crowd kept winning, and you watched as one of the men she was with grew more and more irritated as she continued to pick up her winnings.

the second he put his hand on her in an attempt to pull her back and backhand her, your fangs descended, knowing you'd found your guy. you ducked out of the alley, reaching out to grab the man by the bicep and pull him toward a shadowy corner.

but before you could touch him, he was being harshly pulled away from the young woman and thrown on the pavement.

you paused in the mouth of the alleyway, watching with increasing interest as a tall, strong woman towered over the man, glaring down at him.

she was smirking. you found yourself smirking too.

"what did i tell you about hitting women in my bar?" she rasped out. the man on the pavement beneath her pissed himself, his pants quickly growing dark as he shook in fear. the crowd he was with had dispersed, but a few eyes were watching and shaking their heads in admonishment of the man.

"i-i'm not in the bar sevika, we're outside!" the pathetic man cried. the woman above him laughed, and you watched in fascination as a blade slowly descended from her red poncho. he squealed.

"i swear i won't do it again!" he tried, scrambling away on his back as he tried to evade the woman. she smiled down at him, chuckling as she shook her head.

"no." she said. "you won't."

in a flash, the blade at her side swung down across his neck.

your stomach growled as the smell of blood drifted over to where you hid, and your loins stirred as you watched the woman keep eye contact with the man until his sputtering and twitching halted, and he died. she spat beside him, then turned to walk back into the bar. her bar, apparently.

when no one was looking, you quickly drug the body to the alleyway. his neck was tattered, but you were able to get a pretty decent feed by draining his arms at his wrists.

and after cleaning your mouth, relishing in the warmth quickly pumping through your body, you entered the bar, and spent the rest of the night in a dark corner, your eyes trained on the strong woman as she made rounds around the bar, occasionally pausing to join a game of cards or drink a whiskey.

since then, you've spent almost every night watching her.

you've learned a lot about her since you started watching her. like how in public, while she's at work, she carries herself around with a straight spine and no-nonsense attitude. but while she's at home, alone in her apartment, she's softer. she likes reading, especially romance novels. and she trades out her whiskey for a sweet white wine when she's really into a book.

she sleeps on her side, facing the door like she's ready for the first sound of danger. there have been a few times that she's left her window cracked and you've carefully floated in through her curtains, hovering beside her as you watch her breathe.

you've touched her once, running your finger down the pretty blue scars on her face. she had shifted and murmured, but hadn't woken up, seemingly not finding your presence threatening.

she smells incredibly fucking tantalizing.

not in the way humans usually smell attractive-- like blood and sweat and life. no, she smells better. she smells warm.

warm like whiskey and vanilla wraps for her cigarillos. warm like the brown sugar body wash she uses, warm like the wool of her favorite poncho.

you swore to yourself you wouldn't act on your attraction. you swore to yourself you'd just watch-- not interact.

but then, one night as you were watching sevika eat a cold, lonely dinner in her apartment, she broke down into tears.

your heart broke. you almost revealed yourself to her, just to wrap her up in your arms and press a kiss to her head.

and when she went to sleep that night, you just had to do something to make her feel a little better.

you quickly rushed down the street to the convenience store down the street, and bought the biggest bag of cheesy chips you could find. (you've watched the woman back away cheesy chips like she was preparing for hibernation-- you knew she'd like them.)

you left them on her welcome mat.

(and though you weren't there to see it, the next morning while sevika was leaving for work and she tripped over the bag, she stared at them in confusion for about three minutes, before a soft, sweet smile pulled up at the corners of her lips.)

the next night, when you came back to watch her through her window, you were thrilled to find the bag of chips half empty and sitting on her counter.

since then, you've given up on any and all semblance that you wouldn't interact with the woman.

your gifts have gotten increasingly intense.

they started with little snacks and trinkets left on her doorstep. but after the first time you saw her reaction, a little happy smile when she opened the door to a chocolate candy bar, your heart soared, and you gave up on keeping your gifts casual.

you started leaving bottles of her favorite whiskey.

then, the wine she sneaks when she's alone.

she was hesitant to open it. it sat on her counter for a week, like she was suspicious of the gift. but, eventually, she gave in and cracked the bottle open.

once she got used to her bottles, you took it up another notch. flowers from time to time. ointments and balms for all the cuts and bruises she's always coming home with. scented candles for her home, more blankets for her bed. (she's always shivering.)

one day you notice the shoelaces in her boots are fraying and old. so you bring her new ones.

one evening, you watch as she finished her smutty novel, then pout at her bookshelves when she realizes she's already read everything else on it. you bought her a series she didn't own yet.

you've even taken to getting dolled up before your nightly visits to her apartment, like she'll see you.

you feel ridiculous each time you apply your body butter and lay down your baby hairs just to watch a woman who doesn't know you exist sleep for a few hours, but you can't help yourself from the compulsion.

it's only when you start using her bodywash scent in your shower so you can always smell a bit like her that you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit in love with the woman.

just a little bit. (right?)

you start reading her romance novels in your free time, renting them out from the library and tearing through them in hours.

you're thrilled to find that all of them happen to feature two female leads.

you're also struck by the fact that her favorites-- the ones she reaches for time and time again-- all feature some sort of love letter confession.

so you make a plan.

it goes like this:

on week one, you start signing your presents with a simple "your secret admirer."

on week two, you leave a rose with every offering you bring.

(sevika keeps them all, hanging them upside down from her window so they preserve themselves.)

on week three, you start adding little notes to your gifts.

"your smile takes my breath away" (even though you don't really breathe anymore.)

"i hope silco doesn't piss you off today" (even though he pisses her off every day.)

"i wish i could sleep beside you every night" (even though you don't need sleep. you'd just like to hold her, protect her from whatever she's so scared of.)

and then, on week four, you decide to give her a letter. a full blown, totally honest confession about everything she's made you feel these past few months.

only-- something happens.

the night before you're meant to deliver the letter on her front mat, you feed off of a street rat. rat blood isn't nearly as satisfying as human blood, but you like to avoid actual murder when you can.

but this rat must have been poisoned, because you wake up with lead in your stomach and a hangover you haven't had since you turned.

you've accidentally ingested rat poison before. and while nothing can technically kill you, a whole lot of shit can make you horrifically sick until the blood works it's way out of your system.

so you have to put the plan on hold for a week.

on day one, you just lie in bed in agony.

on day two, you start shivering.

on day three, you manage to vomit up whatever of the blood remains in your stomach.

and today, day four, you wake up crying.

you miss sevika. as stupid as it sounds, she's been the most entertaining part of your life in... centuries.

and you can't see her. and you can't give her your letter. because you pass out each time you try to walk farther from the bed to the bathroom.

you groan at the ceiling as your stomach rumbles again.

"being a vampire fucking sucks!" you cry to your cat. she purrs in your lap and you sigh. "i can't eat food, i can't go in the sun, i've got all these stupid heightened senses-- and what's the point of being immortal if i can still get fucking sick?" you cry. your cat opens one eye to glare at you for interrupting her nap, before she rises and jumps down from your bed, running away.

"and now you're abandoning me in my time of need!" you wail after your cat.

there's a knock at the door.

you groan as you crawl out of bed-- your body is too weak to do any sort of flying right now-- and wander into the living room.

you're certain it's a neighbor, here to yell at you again for yelling at your cat.

but when you swing open the door, you almost pass out at the sight of sevika smirking on your doorstep.

you scream, leaping backwards, quickly snatching a blanket off the couch to wrap around your three day old soiled pajamas, and then gasp when you remember you have your bonnet on.

you reach up to pull it off-- then think better of it, knowing your hair's likely a mess beneath it. you haven't taken it off in days.

"uh." you squeak. sevika smiles at you.

"hey." she says. you blink, reaching up to rub your eyes, certain this is a poison induced hallucination. it's not, apparently.

"uh." you say again. sevika chuckles, then makes to enter your apartment.

"the rule is that vampires gotta ask to come inside your home, not the other way around, right?" she asks as she steps over the threshold to your apartment. you gulp.

"uhm..." you say, backing up until your back hits a wall.

sevika looks down at herself and shrugs. "i look fine. i guess i was right." she says. you squeak, and she smirks up at you. "i've missed you, y'know. got used to your little gifts." she says.

you gulp and blink again, trying to clear the apparition before you. sevika remains.

"today's the fourth day in a row i haven't heard from my secret admirer-- i got worried for you." she says.

you clear your throat and search for words. nothing comes up. eventually, you manage to say something, a shaky, nervous, "h-how?"

sevika grins.

"c'mon. i'm second in command to the eye of zaun, babe, i got eyes and ears everywhere."

"w-when--?" you try again. sevika laughs.

"since your first gift. i knew i felt someone watching me outside my window, i felt like i was going fucking crazy! then you left those cheesy chips, and i realized maybe whoever was watching me wasn't a threat." she says.

you squeak again, and sevika giggles.

"plus, i caught you a couplea times." she says. "you're not as stealthy as you think you are."

you pass out.

when you wake up, sevika's sitting on your couch, your head in her lap, your cat in yours. she smiles down at you. "welcome back." she says. you groan.

"this is humiliating." you mumble as you try to sit up. sevika keeps you pinned to her lap with a hand to your shoulder and you're too weak to fight her off.

"it's cute." she says with a shrug.

"i've been stalking you!" you say. she just laughs again.

"yeah, but you're cute. and harmless. and-- i'm not sure, but i've read a couple vampire romances-- isn't this your freaky way of courting me?" she asks. you groan at the cheesy wording but nod anyways.

"yeah." you mumble. sevika just chuckles.

it's quiet for a few minutes, and then sevika reaches down to grab your hand. "well..." she says. you blink up at her in confusion. "are you gonna court me or what?" she asks. you blink.

"wha-- seriously?!" you ask. she nods and shrugs.

"gimmie your best shot." she says. you smile, the horrible sickness in your body fading as a giddy feeling starts bubbling up in your stomach. you rise from the couch, rushing to your room to grab the letter, then running back into the living room, thrusting the letter into her hands. "i know you like corny love letters-- it's in all your favorite books." you admit shyly as you hand it to her. she grins.

"you read my books?"

"not yours. copies from the library." you say, shrugging. sevika smiles, then opens the letter.

it's quiet as her eyes scan the pages, the same little furrow in her brow coming up that always appears when she reads.

you bite back a gasp. you've never seen it so close-up before. she's so fucking beautiful, you have to clench your hands at your side to keep from reaching out and touching her.

when she's done, she looks up from your letter with tears in her eyes. you gulp.

"are you okay?" you ask. she swipes her eyes and nods.

"y-yeah." she whispers, a little waver in her voice. you melt, sinking back down on the couch beside her and wrapping your arms around her like you've been dying to do for months now.

sevika laughs in your arms, wrapping hers back around you then hissing when she feels how cold you are. you giggle.

sevika pulls away after a moment, her eyes locked on your lips.

"so... tell me about those fangs of yours." she says. you blink.

"w-what about them?" you ask.

"like, are they always descended or can you control it or...?" she asks. you gulp and shrug.

"i can control it." you say. she smiles.

"so, if i was to kiss you right now, you wouldn't slice my lip off by accident?" she asks. you laugh disbelievingly, then you scoot away from her.

"i--i'm sick." you say. she laughs.

"yeah, i gathered." she says, pointing at your wrinkled clothes and the bags under your eyes. "vampire sickness can't transfer to humans though." she says. you scoff.

"how do you know?" you ask. she shrugs and chuckles.

"i don't, i just really want to kiss you."

you gulp, a shaky sigh escaping your lips, before you tentatively lean forward and press your lips against sevika's.

she hums against you, and then she reaches out, grabs you by your pajama shirt, and hauls you into her lap. you squeak against her lips, and she licks into your mouth, moaning against you.

when she pulls away, you gulp at the powerful, fast pounding of her heart that you can hear from beside her.

"woah." you whisper. she smiles. "so... is that a yes?" you ask, referring to your letter. sevika snorts and lets out a bright laugh, and your heart fucking melts.

"definitely a yes, baby." she says, swooping in to kiss you again.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[chaibewriting]

HANDS OFF! ft. street rat! shota aizawa (aladdin au) x feisty! noble! dom! fem! afab! reader

-> NOTES: street rat! shota aizawa pickpockets the wrong noblewoman and pays the price in more ways than one. i wrote this without much thought or brain meats so im sorry if its not my best work 🙇🏾

-> WARNINGS: hypnosis, dubcon, gagging, unprotected sex, virigin aizawa (bc i said so), dry humping, unedited and unbeta read cause i’m lazy

THE human body needed a few basic things in order to survive, even at the bare minimal, one of those necessities happened to be food. And unfortunately, mainly due to his lack of social ranking in the hierarchy, a young scoundrel by the name of Shota was forced to heavily rely on his abilities to get his next meal. And no, they’re not any kind of special ability— unless you consider pickpocketing and pawning to be something special, then fuck just call him Superman.

Interrupted from his thoughts, the shaggy dark-haired man pressed a hand onto his stomach, grunting at the rumble that was embarrassingly loud. A few passerbys in the streets had walked past him with rather weary looks, shuffling away from him while clinging onto their belongings. He barely spared them a glance, knowing that there was a much more interesting target just up ahead.

This woman was wearing something custom made, something he’d never seen before, which brought him to the justified assumption that she was rich. And if he played his cards correctly, he could swipe a couple things from her that he could pawn off and have enough to not only feed himself for the next couple of nights but also enough to buy some food for the stray cats he’s ‘adopted’ that he often finds lingering around in alleys. He had plenty of experience with pickpocketing, it didn’t matter who his target was he always landed his mark and got away without a scratch.

So… how exactly did he end up in this predicament?

That was his first mistake.

Shota had picked up the speed of his stride, soon closing in on you from behind without trying to look too suspicious, making it seem as if he was simply trying to pass you to get to his next destination as quickly as possible. It should have been easy. It was always easy for him, but you apparently decided to rip the rug from right under his feet, catching him redhanded when he attempted to dig his hand into your pocket after brushing past you. You grabbed onto his wrist and pulled it up towards the sky, eyeing your wallet that was encased between his fingers. The lazy street rat was stunned, staring at you in shock and a tad bit of fear of what was going to happen next. He had been doing quite a decent job at evading the authorities but if he were to be turned in right now they would no doubt execute him. He had to get away, but how were you so fucking strong?

“My, my, my… Who do we have here? I think I’ve seen you before… On the wanted posters in the little nooks and crannies I go to get my liquor.” You hummed, continuing to grasp his wrist without budging, even with him constantly trying to pry your hand away or jerk back. “Listen, lady, I’ll give you your damn wallet back, just let me go already.” Shota hissed, suddenly feeling you squeeze at his wrist while narrowing your eyes at him, causing him to unconsciously shudder under your harsh and calculated gaze. “I don’t think so. You caught me at the perfect time, i’ve been looking for a young little thing like you for me to release my frustration. Perhaps we should speak more privately, hm?” You offer, though you give no room for arguments or even agreement as you’re suddenly tugging him towards a nearby alley. The people on the street have taken notice of the two of you but shrugged it off, figuring that you were probably just going to teach the scoundrel a much needed lesson, which you technically were.

Shoving the youngster up against the wall after releasing his wrist, a hum came from your throat as you caged him in, leaving no room for him to slip away from you. He was forced to feel your body press up against his, causing his face to redden ever so slightly as he glanced at you, attempting to intimidate you even though he was the one being intimidated.

Leaning back slightly, you reached into one of your dress pockets and pulled out a solid gold pocket watch that was worth a pretty penny or two. Immediately, his eyes left from your face and went to the pocket watch that was enough to keep him fed for months on end, maybe even years.

That was his second mistake.

“Watch the watch, and repeat after me, darling.” You demanded, though your voice was laced in honey and danger, unfortunately for Shota he was unable to break his gaze from the swinging watch and slowly felt himself slipping into some kind of unconscious yet /conscious/ state, causing him to fully let down his guard as he listened to the words that came from your glossed lips.

“‘I am now Lady Y/N’s property. I give all my rights to her. I was made to please her and only her.”

His mouth moved without his permission as he parroted the words back to her, causing a triumphant grin to spread across her lips. “That’s enough. What’s your name, boy?”

“Aizawa Shota.”

…

After performing some basic-level hypnosis on the unsuspecting street rat, getting him back to your place was as easy as leading a dog on a leash. You never expected that it would be so easy to get him to follow after you, most would have put up more of a fight, but now he was just following you around like a lovesick puppy.

Once you’d entered your home, you instructed him to take off his shoes and leave them at the door, doing the same for yourself before venturing further into the house.

Afterwards, you promptly led him to your bedroom, beckoning him with a finger to continue following behind you, which he did. As soon as he entered the bedroom behind you, you pointed towards the luxurious-looking bed and spoke.

“Sit, and wait, Shota.”

He did just that, watching you with those same loveisck puppy eyes that followed after you every step of the way, waiting for your next command. Simultaneously, you shrugged off your coat and placed it onto a nearby table, humming a random tune you’d heard in a tavern some nights ago, thinking through what you wanted to do next. You were interested in trying out your usual approach, wondering how he’d look starfishing and gagged.

Slipping into your closet, you found the medium-sized chest that sat on the floor and pulled it out, opening it up to remove a few specially made silk wraps from inside of it. With your new findings, you turned towards the bed where Shota still sat, he was awake, but he held no hint of emotion in his face, still heavily under the influence of your hypnosis which seemed to please you quite a bit.

“Stand up and strip for me.”

With ease, the unfortunate prey you’d sunk your claws into stood onto his feet and began to remove his tattered clothing (you’d have to burn those later), your eager eyes taking note of every inch of his exposed body. Even though he looked a bit malnourished and lanky, no doubt from not eating an adequate amount of food each day, he didn’t exactly look fragile. So, that meant you wouldn’t have to worry about breaking him just yet. You eyed the excessive amount of body hair that he had spread all over his body, it wasn’t unwelcome of course, you did enjoy the look of a rugged man crumbling at your feet, after all.

Walking towards him, you placed hand onto his chest and pushed him back onto the bed, watching in interest as his flaccid cock slapped back against his stomach with the sudden movement. You were eager to toy with him and you couldn’t do that if he was still mindlessly under your control, however, you still had to remain in control of him. And you always had the perfect solution. Balling the silk wraps up until you got the perfect sphere of fabric, you instructed him to open his mouth, shoving the fabric into it as soon as his lips parted. You heard him instinctively gag around it and grinned afterwards. Now, here was where the real fun began. With a hum, you snapped you fingers and watched as the cloudy mist in his dark eyes began to clear up. He looked around in confusion for a moment before his gaze landed on you and where you stood, over him at the very edge of the bed. And then he spoke. Or tried to at least.

“Whah eer wuu zoo…” He tried, mumbling against the silk in his mouth, after hearing himself struggle to speak his brows furrowed and he began reaching to take the foreign fabric from his mouth. You stopped him, clicking your tongue in dissatisfaction. “Oh no no, Shota. Don’t you remember what we discussed in the alley? You’re my property now, and you can’t just go around making decisions on your own, darling. You’ll keep that in your mouth until I say so.”

You sighed afterwards and began to undo your blouse, already eyeing his body with glee and interest. “Now, if you’re good and help me release my stress from this week… maybe I’ll take the gag out. Think you can do that for me? Ah, actually, I know you can.” You purred, a small smile revealing itself on your face as you peeled off your blouse and slid your skirt off as well, stepping out of it so that you were left in only your undergarments.

With slightly desperate movements and the speed of a huntress in heat, you crawled on top of Shota, watching as his eyes widened in surprise and his face burned crimson. This caused a thought to come to mind as you planted yourself right on his cock, sandwiching it between your clothed cunt and his own hollowing belly.

“Oh dear… Are you a virgin, Shota?”

The blush on his face only increased tenfold at your question and he quickly shook his head, attempting to dissuade you from such a suggestion. It didn’t matter to you anyways, but it would have been all the more entertaining if he was.

…

Getting Shota hard was not a difficult feat, especially not with you constantly rutting against his cock at a steady pace, effectively making your own pool of arousal start to drench your panties, mingling with the beads of precum that dribbled from his tip and landed onto his stomach. The sounds of his sweet muffled moans had urged you to move faster and rougher with your movements, the friction on resulting in your own moans as well. After you’d done your job, you rolled off of him, making him whine in need for you as you laid onto your back and stretched out your limbs, laughing at him.

“Don’t get all pissy now, I’ve done my job so its only fair that you do yours now.” You mused, laying comfortably on your back while pushing your bra up over your breast, letting them fall free from the contraption. “C’mon and put it in, I know you’re a good boy, aren’t you? Show me how good you are.” You urged, shifting around a bit to slide your underwear down until they were tossed away, exposing your soaked core and throbbing notch of nerves.

Many things came into play, a mix of hormones and hypnosis caused the pick pocketer to quickly sit up, gag still in his mouth, and get between your legs, mot even trying to hide his eager as he stared at your inviting entrance, his angry tip getting even angrier. With interest and clear amusement, you watched him closely as he grabbed the base of his cock and began to line himself up with your entrance, prodding at your folds with the tip, almost as if he was uncertain about where he was supposed to put it. It was almost cute, but you were getting a tad bit impatient, hooking your legs around his hips to bring him forcibly towards you, making him sink into you with ease and with little to no resistance.

While your moans were a bit more restrained and shaky, his moans were still muffled but were exceptionally whinier. He had fallen forward but quickly caught himself before he could crash on top of you, holding himself up by pressing his hands in the bed on either sides of your body. You’d pulled him closer until he completely bottomed out, his balls flush against your ass as he was fully inside you, kissing your cervix with his bulbous tip. You could have sworn you felt him throbbing inside of you. You probably did.

Shota, on the other hand, was on the verge of trembling and crying from pleasure, the sudden warmth and wetness closing around him and effectively trapping him in place, his eyes closed as his face only doubled with heat. He was sure he was going to cum if he moved even an inch. This felt even better than fucking his fist. A man could become addicted to this.

Simultaneously, you enjoyed the feeling of fullness but were waiting for him to move, watching him intently. When he made no effort or showed no signs of movement, you huffed, unhooking your legs from his hips and grunting at him. “What are you waiting for? The sun to set? Hurry up and move already, I’m growing impa- oh!” You were cut off by the feeling of him pulling out and slamming back into you, which was soon followed by a series of amateur jabs at your womb, repeatedly filling you with his thick veiny cock over and over again, the bird’s nest of his pubes consistently brushing over your clit with him bottoming out each and every time.

Even if he was an amateur with his thrusts, his dick was big enough to hit some delicious spots inside of your gummy walls that made you a bit delirious. You weren’t the only one, however, with the way he was still groaning and muttering praises that made no sense thanks to the gag in his mouth. As he fucked into you like an obedient and needy whore, you rubbed at your clit in rough circular motions, a string of curses leaving your lips as you enjoyed every second of the snap of his needy hips.

“Veels zooo gooo…” He complimented, though you didn’t know what he was saying exactly as he continued his speedy pace, the bed singing and creaking from the intensity of his assault on your drooling pussy.

This continued for a tad bit longer, as long as he could manage at least, before he mewled aloud, leaning over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. “Mm hmm gmm…!” Suddenly, you felt heat shoot up into your awaiting walls that had been milking him since the moment you forced him to sink his cock in you, painting you sloppily with white. He’d slammed all the way into you to release his seed in you, not letting a drop escape as he laid out on top of you in exhaustion, forcing you to stop rubbing your clit.

You allowed him a second to collect himself, feeling the cold sweat on his body sink into yours as he remained laying on top of you, still buried inside of you. Lightly, you patted his back in an affectionate manner and spoke up. “We’re not done yet darling, I still haven’t cum yet.” That, made him stiffen up, and you almost felt his cock harden again inside of you like the command was enough to spur him on for another round.

“ineeding…. foooo… ooo.” Was the last thing he tiredly panted through the gag before he lifted his hips just a tad bit, burying his knees into the bed before he began lazily pounding into you yet again, the harsh slap of skin on skin being heard well into the night.

Well… he’d never be pickpocketing again, that’s for sure.

[shotokimchi]

When Their S/O Is a Seggs God 2

Minors DNI

A/N: Here's a part 2 since I had so much fun while writing the first one, I appreciate the reblogs and the comments!

I'm planning to continue this drabble and write for other characters too, so you can suggest different fandoms as well.

Note: They arent in an established relationship in Dabi's one

Characters are aged up! Part1 w/Shoto and Katsuki

Dabi

So you and Dabi are playing this game called cat and mouse for a while since you are a pro hero and whenever the League is causing trouble, your main target is always him

Why you ask?

You see, you have this very important hero-like reason...

You think he's hot.🔥 (fair enough)

So when you and your friends get a call from the police, telling you that the League is gonna strike (act like bitchy teens) again, being the responsible server of society you are, you immediately attend the mission

After telling your hero friends Shoto, Deku, Pinky and Dynamight that you are trailing quietly behind Dabi you turn off your earphone and watch your villain crush slowly make his way into a narrow alley

Then you hear Pinky's voice in your ear "ThickThighs, you need to distract him till we get there." (Yes your hero name?)

IT IS NOW YOUR TIME TO SHINE

In a swift motion, you appear in front of him and a sly smirk makes its way onto his lips

"Well well the stalker hero is here."

"You are lucky Dabi because i like my meat burnt." (🍆)

Before he can process what nonsense you are talking about he finds himself on the ground laying on his back while you are keeping his head locked between your thighs, he quickly grabs your thighs and you feel his hands warming up "I'll turn you into a roasted chi-"

"Want a quick head?"

The cockroach is speechless

....

"W-"

Not waiting for his brain to function, you put your juicy phat ass on his face 🍑🍑

And face toward his portal opener leg spreader zucchini, then quickly get him out of his cheap drugstore pants

Your soft hand finally meets his touch starved lonely villain dick and starts pumping him like REAL FAST

literally can create electricity with how fast you are jerking him off

too bad he cant see whats happening since all he can see is your ass on his face

but you are giving a real show to the street rats so

lucky rodents ig 🐭

He is grunting and moaning uncontrollably into your core

Legit thinks you have an extra sex-related quirk or smthn Thought his dick was on fire and got scared for a moment bc it was getting too hot thanks to the speed of your hand so tried to pry you off of his face but you quickly caged his arms with your thighs (Even Nicki Minaj is jealous of your thighs at this point) Eventually gives in since you are giving him the time of his life but mf wasn't ready for your brand new Dyson V12 Detect Slim Vacuum 👅👅👅

HOW ARE YOU SUCKING THAT STRONG IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?

boy ejaculated in 45 seconds and wants the ground to swallow him whole LMAO and to make it even worse you even compared 45 seconds to a butterflies lifespan

to make him feel better ofc

"If you look at it, it's probably like 5 years for a butterfly Dabi don't worry."

yep, he definitely wants to kill you now

Quickly gets up to scurry away, you embarrassed the baddy ok his pride is HURT he won't let you see him in this pathetic state

so he cages you with his flames and disappears once you manage to escape but not before scraping his private number on the concrete so you can see it later with his initials on the bottom

BC WHAT WAS THAT YOU ARE AMAZING

HE WANTS ANOTHER ROUND SO HE CAN TAKE REVENGE

so when you see it you are doing the happy dance you can finally see him again

not before getting interrupted with an awkward cough from your earphone tho

"We heard everything Y/n..."

Izu says

"Y/N THAT WAS MY BROTHER AND YOU KNOW THAT"

POOR SHOTO

and Katsuki is probably gagging in the background

...

"She ate tho."

Thanks, Mina (got them villains whimpering under your ass💅)

Midoriya

So when I tell you that Midoriya worships the ground you walk on it is not an exaggeration 🛐

Baby is that in love with you and wants to spend his whole life with you so he decides to wait till marriage

Virgin Pro hero Izuku is so attractive ok no buts like he's the number one hero in the whole world so strong, undefeatable and scary to the villains

But when it comes to you he just wants everything to be so special and perfect, always smiling and making sure you're feeling loved

Baby thinks you deserve all of his firsts KHDASDKJS- CUTE

So when he gets on one knee and asks you to marry him while you guys were out on a trip to Spain you can't help but jump around in your cute summer dress while hugging him and screaming "YES" at the top of your lungs

AND NOW . . .

THE TIME HAS FINALLY COME

In his head(notebook), everything is planned

-Drink champagne together

-Take a bubble bath together

-Give her a massage

-Warm up a little bit(yes literal work out)

-Make love

he totally wrote it into his notebook. 📝

It's hidden in the drawer and you dont need to know that

BUT

Before he can open the drawer and take a slight peek at his notes, you are suddenly butt naked and sitting on the bed calling for him with your sweet voice

Baby literally SCREAMED when he saw you

Because you are so gorgeous WTF Asks if you want a drink first and you say no, then realizes the notes aren't helping him with shit so gets in front of the bed and quickly starts doing stretches And you are giving him the *tf is he doing* look but meh you are used to his weird antics already lol cant pull a muscle babes so you sigh and drag him onto the bed

literally looks at you like this LOL AND HAS A HAND RESTING ON HIS HIPS TOO BOY WE DIDNT EVEN STARTED- Don't get mad at him he is just that nervous

Smiling at his silliness you slowly drag him on top of you and start kissing his shaky lips and it actually helps him ease up a bit

..till you start pinching and massaging his nipples

Baby literally squeaks and tries to move away only to be stopped by your legs around his waist, caging him and pulling him towards you more "Where are you running off to, hm?" Bro is about to cream his boxers HE KNOWS THAT YOU'RE A VIRGIN SO HOW ARE YOU SO EFFORTLESSLY DOMINANT? Guess all of that smut you've read paid off well

You make him lay on his stomach while whining and whimpering with you on his back stroking his cock from behind

%100 gripping the sheets and biting down on the pillow so he doesnt disturb the people on the floor

but you have other plans so you grab his chin lift his face and shove 2 fingers in his mouth

He just obeys you like that bc he doesn't know what to do aww he is too embarrassed at this point

gets 20 spanks on his plump buttocks bc you just love seeing them jiggle

GO EASY ON HIM ITS HIS FIRST NIGHT

But you show no mercy and suggest trying the position "69"

Surprisingly he is very eager to do it, it sounds so erotic to him he ends up cumming 3 times just from your mouth and when you finally cum on his face you quickly grab your phone, open your camera and tell him to smile

Best selfie ever: Tired looking izuku with your cum on his face smiling shyly at the camera

Baby is bathing in his own sweat at this point

But is y/n done?

NO NOT EVEN CLOSE? So the night continued like that, you acting like letting him take the lead then swapping the roles and embarrassing him non-stop milking him till his balls turn into deflated balloons  🎈 

That's how the first sex tape of the Midoriya couple was created and trust me, there are many tapes to be filmed

And believe it or not, whenever he goes drinking with his hero friends, he gets so drunk that he spills every spicy detail about your sex life and everybody in the room listens to him in awe, with jealousy and mouths wide open.

A/N: AAAAHHHH FINALLY DONE HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT, reblogs and feedbacks r appreciated!

[zablife]

Birthday Gift

John Shelby x Y/N Solomons

Summary: John celebrates his birthday with his bestie, but things don't go to plan.

Author's Note: Part of my Partners in Crime series about John and his problematic bestie Y/N Solomons. Ty to @dreamlandcreations for this idea!

Warnings: language, drinking

“Where have you been? Party started at eight. It’s gone ten,” John stated as he saw the top of your head weaving through the crowd gathered at the Garrison to celebrate his birthday.

“Take a butchers at this, you ungrateful arse!” you shouted above the din of the crowd. As the people standing in front of you parted to make way for the enormous tray you carried, John was finally able to see you head on, noticing something that vaguely resembled a triple layer chocolate cake. However, it was so unstable, it teetered precariously in your small hands and John’s eyes widened as it swayed before him.

“Would you Adam and Eve it?” you said with a wide grin, your pride swelling as you offered your gift.

“I can, it looks bloody awful!” he said with a boisterous laugh, fueled by the drinks he’d consumed in the hours before your arrival.

Arthur turned from the bar and poked his head over John’s shoulder, knitting his brows together and squinting his eyes which swam in their sockets from his own indulgement as he asked, “What’s this, eh?”

“You having a bubble? What the bloody hell do you think it is?” you asked, incredulously.

“Looks like a pile of dog shit,” Arthur mumbled into John’s ear, making them both erupt into drunken laughter, whisky splashing onto the floor as John gripped his brother’s arm to keep from falling over.

You stamped your foot and pursed your lips together, unamused by their buffoonery. “I spent five fucking hours on this!” you huffed, blowing hair out of your face from the corner of your mouth as both hands were occupied. Looking down at the increasingly heavy monstrosity you held and back up at your friend you wondered why you had bothered when this was the thanks you received. “Bloody shame is what it is,” you whined.

“That you dropped it?” John asked, voice dipping into a low and serious register all of a sudden. He scratched his ear, considering how the pathetic looking confection seemed to have fallen from a great height and been crammed back together hastily with fistfuls of icing. He waited anxiously for you to explain as your face grew ten shades of red.

“Dr-dropped it?” you stuttered, temper rising in your throat as you thought of all the time you’d spent in Alfie’s kitchen, covered in flour, pressed up against his disgusting, foul smelling workmen. Your hands were still cramped from holding the icing bag used to decorate it in tiny rosettes the way you’d been shown. It might not be the most beautiful creation you’d ever seen, but you were still quite proud of it.

“Yea…cos it’s leanin’, see?” John pointed as he cocked his head to to the side, attempting to view the cake as it might appear right side up. “And this whole side is pretty much….well, it’s gone, love,” he commented, gesturing toward the left top tier which was missing a large chunk. Your mouth hung open in speechless horror as you realized it had fallen off somewhere along the way, probably food for the rats in the streets by now.

At that moment, Finn walked up, studying you and the unfortunate mess you held in your hands. “Y/n! Is that food? I’m starving!” he drunkenly yelled, lunging for the cake.

Before he made it to you, Isaiah pulled him back by the elbow warning, “Careful, mate. Probably came out Alfie’s bins by the look of it.” Then turning to you with a cheeky grin, he asked “Is that why they call you alley cat, darlin’? That lovely little tail of yours been digging through the rubbish for scraps? Hope it’s not poisoned!” he chuckled.

“Alright, that’s enough!” John intervened, straightening himself. It was alright for him to make jokes, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to wound your pride. “It might look a bit dodgy, but I’m sure it tastes…well, better than it looks,” he gulped, eyeing you and the cake wearily, knowing he’d have to try it now.

You felt the tips of your ears burning as your rage boiled over, vocal chords thrumming as you screamed, “Would you stop rabbiting on about the bloody give and take!” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, mostly due to exhaustion.

Finn stood motionless, glancing at John in panic. He shuffled forward, placing a hand on your shoulder as he assured you in a meek voice, “I can’t wait to try it.” He gave you a weak smile before stepping away, deathly afraid of the murderous glint in your eye.

“What are you drinking, alley cat?” John asked, attempting to appease you.

“Drop of needle and pin,” you answered, allowing the distraction as you looked around for a place to rest the cake.

As he rejoined the conversation, Arthur asked in confusion, “She gonna sew the fucking thing back together?”, a hiss escaping from between his teeth as he found amusement in his own joke.

“You’re brown bread, you hear me?” you threatened, gritting your teeth together tightly. You’d had nearly all you could take of relentless taunts for one night.

“So long as you ain’t the one bakin' it, sweetheart,” he replied with a wicked grin, raising his glass in a sarcastic toast.

That was all it took for you to snap, fingers raising the edges of the hefty tray as you grunted under the weight. 

“Oh, fuck!” Finn called out, but you were already launching the cake through the air toward Arthur. Even in his state of inebriation, the tall, lanky man managed to duck the flying pastry, his boxing reflexes serving him well.

However, the cake found an unanticipated target as John turned from the bar at that moment with your gin in one hand and a fresh pint of beer in the other. Unable to defend himself, the confection hit him squarely in the face, the weight of it nearly bowling him over in the process. The drinks sloshed out toward you, soaking your new dress in alcohol and you gasped at the feeling of cool liquid running down your cleavage. The room seemed to quiet for a few seconds afterward as John turned to place the empty glasses on the bar and wiped his face with a handkerchief. 

“Y/n?” he called out to you through a mouthful of icing. You didn’t reply, frozen in place with your hands to your face in genuine shock over your outburst. Then the laughter began, a silent shudder against your ribs at first as you attempted to hold it in and then an undignified snort as your amusement grew for the entire pub to hear. 

“You fucking laughing at my brother?” Arthur asked, picking up a handful of sponge and tossing it at your dress, ruining it further.

“You prick!” you yelled and grabbed a handful yourself, attempting to hit Arthur in the face. However, you missed and pummeled his chest, smearing his new tie with hideous brown streaks. As his face contorted in anger, Finn attempted to pull you away, but Arthur was already charging at you with the ferocity of a bull. Although John tried to hold him back, he only succeeded in slipping and sliding in the chocolate icing with his brother, landing on the hard wood floor with a thud.

Soon everyone was covered in unappetizing shades of brown, a sickeningly sweet smell permeating your nostrils as you threw chunks of cake at one another. You took pleasure smooshing a large portion into Isaiah’s face as you asked, “Enjoying the rubbish, darling?” And you couldn’t stop giggling as you noticed an overly intoxicated Finn licking his fingers greedily behind a chair. At least someone is enjoying my efforts, you thought. 

The shouting had long since turned to peels of laughter as the fight devolved into happy chaos. Even Arthur began to smile, until a distant voice began yelling over the crowd in sharp authority.

“Oi! What the fuck is going on?” Your head snapped up to see Tommy standing over all you. He watched you rolling in what looked to be mud as he picked at the bottom of one of his pristine leather shoes with disgust. 

“Tommy, I thought you were in London tonight,” John coughed out, attempting to shake crumbs from his hands. His face looked like that of a naughty child and he quickly averted his eyes, ashamed of his untidy appearance in contrast to his brother’s spotless three piece suit.

“We was celebrating John boy’s birthday,” Arthur added, attempting to stand, shoes skittering to one side as he clutched for the edge of the bar to remain upright. As he tried to smooth his hair back, you hiccuped out a little laugh.

“Y/n Solomons, might have known you’d be here,” Tommy mumbled through clenched jaw, disapproval evident, before announcing, “Everyone out of my fucking pub!” Chairs squealed and feet shuffled as partygoers who had been cheering and laughing moments earlier turned silent, no one wishing to incur the wrath of Tommy Shelby as they exited with haste. 

“Sorry, Tommy,” Isaiah mumbled, his ever present grin permanently faded as he fetched a mop and bucket. As the junior peaky boys began to clean, shooting daggers at you through their eyes, you realized the night had officially ended.

John leaned against the wall outside the Garrison, blowing smoke rings up toward the heavens in the peaceful silence of the evening. Cigar finished and stamped out on the cobblestones, he shoved his hands in his pockets, bouncing on the heels of his feet to keep warm. As he looked over at your disheveled figure, he laughed, “That was some birthday, alley cat. Haven’t had that much fun since I was kid.”

“Is that a thank you, I hear, Barney?” you asked, stamping out your cigarette with the heel of your boot. 

“Yeah, spose it is,” he chuckled. “Tommy’s face was a picture though,” he said, shoulders shaking as he laughed.

“Think he’ll tell Alfie?” you asked.

“No!” he snorted, indignantly. “Who cares about a mess in Tommy's pub?” John asked with a wave of his hand.

“Not the cake, you stupid git, THAT!” you said with a flourish, pointing to the brand new Triumph parked at the corner. 

“Alley cat, what have you done?” John asked, noticing the motorcycle for the first time that night.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, eyes as big as saucers.

“All yours, my love,” you said with a nod.

“No!” John gasped, running toward it and jumping on the seat with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

“Yes!” you squealed, following him. “Just don’t drive it round London,” you said, biting your lip nervously. 

John looked over his shoulder at you with furrowed brow, “Alley cat…” he began in a warning tone, knowing full well how you'd come into possession of the bike.

“Don’t ask,” you cut him off, holding up your hand.

He burst into laughter as you asked, “Does this make up for the birthday cake?”

“Yea, I’d say so!” he replied, stroking the handlebars lovingly.

“Good, then I never want to hear another word about my baking as long as I live!” you replied with a satisfied smirk. 

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

Tag List:

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[bigasswritingmagnet]

Blood Will Out ch 1/30: Catalysis

Summary: When Agatha Sannikova learns she is, in fact, Agatha Heterodyne, she inadvertently kicks off a series of events that reopens old wounds, drags secrets into the light, and brings war to the doorstep of the all but defenseless Mechanicsburg. Saturnus struggles to crush his enemies with a town almost as broken as his body; Agatha, determined to undo the chaos she's unleashed, plunges into the depths of Castle Heterodyne.

Raised by a literal saint and the devil incarnate, Agatha - with an unleashed mind, a burning spark, and a band of very unexpected allies - will fight to do the unthinkable: be a good Heterodyne and a good person.

[The long awaited (by me) sequel to Relatively Speaking, This Will Probably be Fine and NOT a prequel to Helpful, in a Heterodyne Sort of Way, due to plot reasons.]

AO3 link | Next >

The Heterodyne Valley was peaceful in the night. If one did not know its history, it would be easy to think of it as an oasis of fertile farmland and forest amidst the hardscrabble farms clinging to the unforgiving rock on the other side of the mountains. Cupped by the gentle hands of the valley, Mechanicsburg sat still and quiet in the darkness. 

At an hour so late it was early, when the bars had closed but the bakers had not woken, Mechanicsburg was visible only as winding rivers of dim lamp light twining through pools of darkness. As they moved away from the tourist attractions and towards the Tumbles, the rivers split into tributaries: smaller streets lined with houses and more reasonably priced shops. One such shop was Muller’s Miscellaneous, where machinists could buy parts and sell scrap. 

To the left of the building was a dingy alleyway. During the day it was used to haul materials and merchandise in and out. This late at night, the only occupants were a two-headed rat and the frantic tabby cat it was chasing. The alley led around to the back of the shop, providing access to the door and window. 

The door was locked tight. The window was open. Fresh scratches marred the wood around the latch, which now hung slightly loose, forced out of place by a hand unused to breaking, let alone entering. Through the open window was the storeroom. It was filled with stacked metal sheets of varying compositions and sizes, buckets of gears, boxes of screws and nails, Gordian knots of copper wires. In the very center of it all, surrounded by a mandala of half-built parts and materials…

…was a girl.

She was approximately fifteen, splayed legs showing the gangliness of an unfinished teenage growth spurt, her long blonde hair breaking free of its ponytail to press sweaty strands against her ashen cheeks. Behind thick round glasses, her eyes were glazed. Her mouth hung open as she panted for air, unable to breathe past the blood that trickled from her nose.

Agatha’s headaches were usually like a vice or a bear trap, a sharp pressure that faded quickly when she let it drive her away from whatever had brought on the attack. But she had not let it drive her away this time, and after an hour, it had become spikes of white hot metal in her brain, pulsing with her heartbeat.

She had never been in so much pain in her life.

She did not let it stop her.

Agatha had been trying to build this for five years, and for five years she had been driven to tears of frustration as the pain chased her away. But not this time.

She wasn’t sure what had made that specific headache different, why this time the pain had filled her with a spiteful, stubborn contrariness, but it had. Agatha had decided she was far too old – almost an adult, as far as she was concerned – to allow her own misfiring neurons to hold her back. She was sick of it. Sick of the feeling of things being just out of reach, sick of knowing she could do things and not being able to.

Sick of failure.

‘I’m impressed at your recovery,’ Doctor Sun had said, the immovable calm to Saturnus’ unstoppable stubborn indignation. ‘But the damage is not all from your heart or the muscle atrophy.” 

In a strange way, though, it had gotten easier to think. The constant, endless agony was so consistent, she could almost let it fade into background noise.

Agatha’s trembling fingers hovered over a pile of neatly sorted screws, trying to remember what she’d been doing. Right. The joints in the legs. She tried to imagine the chair climbing up the stairs that connected to the road outside the bakery.

‘No, you can’t just give yourself a new pair of legs. The problem is in your brain. The part of it that connects with the muscles is damaged, and that is not something I can repair – and neither can you.’

He kept trying, though. The memory of Saturnus on the floor, face covered in blood from hitting the nightstand on the way down, haunted her still.

Like a spider. Second and fourth sets would operate as counterbalances – hold it steady while the first set reached and the third set pushed forward. Carefully she checked her blood-spattered notes, reminding herself of what kind of joint she was trying to build. What did it look like again?

‘A chair? Oh yes, being pushed around by some minder, that sounds perfect, letting the whole world know I can’t even turn a wheel with my own strength. I leave this house on working legs or in a box!’

A chair that could walk and climb, propelled by clockwork. The idea had flown in on wings of pain.

Blatantly evil Lord Saturnus may be, but Agatha loved him dearly, just as much as she did the virtuous Teodora. In her head, Grandfather came as easily as Lord Saturnus – easier, even . Grandm — Teodora was a bulwark against the world, protector and defender, and within the stronghold of her home, there was Saturnus to understand.

He never told her she wasn’t broken, or that there was nothing wrong with her. Neither did he let her succumb to self-loathing. Broken is not the same as useless. Though she was just some orphan that a friend of his estranged son had dumped on him, he loved her like flesh and blood.

It was getting hard to see. White light was chewing at the edges of her vision, and she had to squint to see past the colored halos dancing in front of her. She hadn’t even turned anything on yet, but she was sure she smelled something burning. 

Hands clamped down on her shoulders, and the screws tumbled from her fingers. She had to blink several times to focus on the face in front of her, and it took another few seconds to recognize Herr Müller, whose shop she had chosen to…patronize.

“Miss Sannikova!” He was shouting, but he wasn’t angry – he looked scared, actually. Perhaps he was just making sure he could hear her. His voice was so far away from her ears. “Agatha!”

“I can pay for the pieces,” she said, and heard only a strange gurgling sound. “I wasn’t sure how many I’d need so I thought I would pay for what I used, after.”

“Get a doctor!” Müller bellowed over his shoulder. “Agatha, can you hear me?”

His mouth kept moving but the pain in her head was audible now, roaring in her ears, making it impossible to even hear herself think. She began to hum, a cracked and broken sound that had no melody.  

Saturnus, seated in the hated wheelchair beside the hospital bed of the girl who did not know she was his granddaughter, found himself distracted by the thought of what an excellent tableau they all made. Agatha lying between them, drawn and pale. On either side, her grandparents, perfect visual and moral opposites.  

Saturnus had been an intimidating figure, once upon a time, built in size and shape much like a particularly clean-shaven bear. Even when middle age had come to call, thinning his copper hair and softening his middle, he had maintained his strength. 

Not any more. Not ever again, as a point of fact. Spending just under a decade half-dead and immobile, bedridden and insensate, took its toll. Even after Agatha had drawn him back into the waking world, even with wife and granddaughter ensuring he stuck with the tortures Sun had the nerve to call ‘physical therapy’, he’d never regain more than a fraction of his old strength. He was an old man now, and he looked every inch of it, right down to sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket over the useless sticks of his legs.  

In contrast, his wife, whom time had touched with a much gentler hand. 

Teodora Vodenicharova was tall and slender, with bright brown eyes and a long, elegant face. Their frantic race to get dressed and to the hospital had not left her time to put herself together in her usual impeccable appearance. Her long gray hair was still in a braid, not wound up in its usual complex bun, and her dress did not match the sash around her waist.     

Despite all her time in Mechanicsburg, she maintained the fashions of her homeland, and wore simple dresses of muted colors, given shape by embroidered sashes and brightened by flashes of color at the hems and buttons. It rankled Saturnus that she dressed like a peasant, and often he wished she would let him deck her in the jewels and finery befitting the Lady of Mechanicsburg.

Not that she required fine clothing to be distinguished from the common folk. Even now as she stood braced for the explosion of fury and outrage she knew would be coming, she held herself tall and proud, regal as any queen, just as always.   

Saturnus turned his head away from her, and his gaze fell on Agatha’s locket on the bedside table, wound up in its chain. Saturnus reached out and picked it up, but did not open it. He could feel the effect of the locket, but he was a grown man and a strong Spark, so it was nothing but a faint tingling in the base of his skull. Nothing he could not ignore. He doubted he would even notice if he didn’t know it would be there. 

“How did you ever manage it?” he asked, turning the locket over in his hands. “All those years, watching her suffer, listening to her talk about herself like that? Knowing what it was. Knowing you could stop it.”

Teodora said nothing. He laughed briefly, soft and humorless.

“Funny. I’m pretty sure I was meant to be the evil one in this relationship.”

He heard Teodora’s sharp inhale. In a few quick strides she rounded the bed to stand beside him. When she spoke, it was with a rage that trembled with the effort of keeping quiet.

“Is that supposed to wound me? As if your good opinion was ever anything but a curse? As if I never prayed that you would grow bored and send me away again? Don’t you dare fool yourself into thinking that my heart has gone soft with time, Lord Heterodyne.”

But all he did was let out a soft, amused hum, and give her a condescending smile.

“So that’s it, then. The great, noble Teodora Vodenicharova played dutiful wife by her husband’s side, not for love, not for duty…but because you enjoyed seeing me brought low. Seems you fit into this family quite well.”

“How dare you—!” Teodora, white with rage, actually tried to slap him. He caught her arm easily and dragged her in, meeting her furious glare with his own hard, cold stare. 

“You certainly seem wounded by my poor opinion,” he said.

“That is not why I did it, and this has nothing to do with you. I did what I thought was necessary,” Teodora hissed, her voice hoarse. “I did what I thought was best to keep. Her. Safe.”

“And if I think this is a cruel and terrible thing, what does that say about you?” He released her and sat back in the wheelchair. He’d consented to it only to get to the Great Hospital to see Agatha, far too terrified to even feel the sting to his pride.

“Barry said she started breaking through when she was five— ”

“If he’d done it to anyone but flesh and blood,” Saturnus interrupted. “I’d be downright proud of him.”

Saturnus saw the words hit Teodora, saw her flinch, and bore down.

“But as it is, I am having trouble understanding why you were willing to go along with your son putting our granddaughter’s mind on a choke-chain leash without having the decency to tell her WHY!”    

For the first time in all their years of marriage, Teodora took a step back – but Teodora was Teodora. She had stood up to the Lord of Mechanicsburg, again and again and again, and had not just lived but won. Teodora was kind and gentle and would come down like a hammer on any threat to those she loved as fiercely as any Heterodyne. When Saturnus had declared her sons ruined, told her that he planned to kill them and start over, Teodora had stopped him. Not just stopped him, forced him to stand down, forced him to hand his beloved town to his “ruined” son, permanently, and let him rule and ruin as he pleased. 

And Saturnus loved her still, with all his heart.   

“What would you have done, in his place?” she challenged. “You think a five-year-old has the capability of understanding such an abstract danger? She would have had that thing off in seconds. Even now, I don’t think she’s old enough. She’ll get frustrated or want the pain to stop—”

“She thinks she is broken!”

“We cannot keep her safe.”

The words were like a hammer blow.

“Those headaches are half the reason no one thinks she could possibly be who she is!” Teodora said. “If anyone ever so much as doubted that? They would come for her, and there is no guarantee this town could protect her. Your pride was nearly the death of you, but I will not let you put her in mortal danger simply because you don’t want to admit that you are not the man you were, and this town cannot do what it is meant to do.” 

“She—”

“Am I wrong?”

“She needs—”

“Am. I. Wrong.” 

Saturnus couldn’t look at her. Yes, he was furious on Agatha’s behalf. Yes, it was a horrific thing to do to a girl, to keep doing to her. But it was no small part of him that did not want to admit that this device was better protection than he could provide. That this pain might be the best thing they could do for her.

He could not protect his grandchild.

Again.

Agatha stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Her brow furrowed.

“Ow,” she whispered. Her gaze fell on Saturnus and Teodora. Her hazy expression grew puzzled. She looked around at the hospital room, and down at herself, and realized where she was. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Teodora said gently, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “No, darling, you’re not in trouble.”

“Important life lesson,” Saturnus said, attempting to sound jovial. “If you scare everyone badly enough, you can get away with anything.”

“Saturnus,” Teodora scolded, but Agatha giggled weakly. Her smile faded when Saturnus reached out and stroked her hair.

“What the hell were you doing?” he asked, gently.

“I was building you a chair,” she said softly. “Something you wouldn’t have to push. I thought maybe if you didn’t need help, you wouldn’t mind being seen in it. But every time I tried to build it, I got the headache and I just…”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I was just so tired of being broken.” She began to cry, and Saturnus felt his heart break in ways he didn’t know it could. He took Agatha’s hand in both of his, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, nearly begging. “Broken or not, yours is a marvelous mind, and I would not have you cauterize it for anything – but especially not for me.”

“I wanted to help .”

“I know, I know. Here. When you’re well enough to leave, we’ll go back home and build it together. And go nice and slow, so neither of our bodies has reason to try and kill us, hmm?”

Her smile was weak, and he knew it wouldn’t be satisfying. She was a teenager, a Spark, a Heterodyne , and Saturnus knew that there was no feeling like watching your first big project cut a swath of destruction across the land and being able to think I did that, all on my own.  

“Oh,” Agatha said. “You’ve got my locket.”

She reached for it, but Saturnus pulled away.

“No jewelry in the hospital,” he lied. “Put it on when you go home.”

“The doctor wants to keep you overnight, just in case,” Teodora said, putting a gentle hand on Agatha’s knee. “We’ll see how you feel in the morning.”

Agatha nodded and closed her eyes. Neither Saturnus or Teodora spoke until Agatha’s breathing was the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

“You didn’t tell her,” Teodora said, not voicing the question. 

“I thought it would be best to wait ‘til we get home. The locket, her parents – when we tell her, she’ll be angry, and I’d rather she not shout at us where half of Mechanicsburg could hear.”

“We’re not telling her.”

“Like hell we’re not—”

“ No. She’s too young, and she’s a terrible liar.”

“After all that, you still want her to wear it,” Saturnus said, amazed. “After what we just saw, what she just said, you still —”

“Do you think I’m enjoying this?” Teodora demanded. “I hate this just as much as you do, but we do not have a choice, Saturnus.”

“If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“No. You won’t.”

“And how exactly will you stop me? Kill me?”

The expression on Teodora’s face was very like the one she’d worn the day she’d told him he would not be killing their sons. When she spoke, her voice was ice and steel.

“I do not need to kill you.”

Saturnus tried to glare at her, but it was like trying to stare down the sun. And still, he loved her. More, really. When she got like this, he couldn’t help but think if she’d been a little less compassionate, she could have rivaled the Skull Queen herself.

He looked away.

“I can’t do it again,” Teodora said, in a much gentler voice. “I can’t. Klaus Barry was bad enough – for both of us. I won’t lose another grandchild.”

Agatha inhaled sharply, and they both froze. But she simply sighed in her sleep and rolled over.

They watched over her in silence until visiting hours ended, both too lost in their own thoughts, feeling no less trapped and miserable for worries shared.

They did not speak again until the next morning, when a breathless, terrified nurse appeared at their door to tell them that Agatha was gone.

[bruh-anator3000]

CAT-astrophic

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A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*

Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.

WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...

Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!

Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!

Okay, enjoy~

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You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.

Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.

Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.

The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.

There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.

Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.

You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.

It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.

"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.

He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.

Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.

You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."

Okay, maybe he was a little hot.

"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.

Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.

Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.

The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.

Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?

"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.

"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead

"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."

You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.

And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.

Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.

"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."

...

"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."

Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."

"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.

"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.

"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.

With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.

The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."

"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.

"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.

"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."

Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"

"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.

He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.

"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.

Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.

"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."

She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.

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Check out my Masterlist!

[wolfsbanesparks]

I really a headcanon that, because of Mr. Tawky tawny, billy is able to speak with any and all felines

Whether this is because billy has a feline familiar or because he spends so much time around a magical feline is honestly up to you

But I love the Idea of damian getting jealous because billy can hold a conversation with Alfred the cat and damian can't

I also love the though of billy having to play telephone with any other animal, he asks the street cat something, the cat asks the rats and then the cat relays the information to billy

This is such a cute headcanon 💜💜💜

Billy be out here acting like a literal Disney princess with his animal companions. He's friends with all the animals (alley cats, rats, squirrels from the park) and gets mad at people who are mean to them.

There are plenty of magically hand wavy reasons for why Billy could talk to cats (or certain animals in general) but I think it'd be funny if it's an extension of his omnilingual abilities but like, for some reason, cat dialects stick in his human brain better than other languages.

And I love jealous Damian just seething that not only is Billy friends with a talking tiger but he also holds private conversations with Damian's pets. I can imagine Billy teasing him a bit by exaggerating his responses to whatever Alfred the Cat is saying just to see Damian get huffy.

Thanks for the ask!

[eternal-love-song]

Eternal’s Danganronpa Fics

Masterlist of all the Danganronpa Fics that I’ve written. I’ve arranged them pairing, since I mostly write shipping fics. List to my AO3 where you can find all of these easily. 

Oumaki fics (Kokichi x Maki)

Hour To Midnight

Sleepless

Bite My Tongue Until Blood Soaks My Shirt

Fitting Together Broken Pieces

A Warm Mug And Hands In My Hair

A False Smile To Make Flowers Bloom

Bloodstones

Did It Hurt When You Fell In That Dark Alley?

No Bad Dreams In Bed

Oumatsu fics (Kokichi x Kaede)

Sleep Walking Reality

Wrong Number, Right Call

Promise To Protect

Who You’ll Be When You’re Already Dead

Dance Across The Sky

Irouma fics (Kokichi x Miu)

Filthy Hands

Hungry Mouths To Feed

Do At Least This

Virgin Lips

The Odd Taste Of Unspoken Words On My Tongue

Lay Back And Be Loved

Tojouma fics (Kokichi x Kirumi)

Clothing Request

Peeling A Label Off A Bottle

To Look After Another

A Proposal of Love

Despair Tea

Saiouma (Kokichi x Shuichi)

Don’t Look Away

A Promise To Those Left Behind

Oumami (Kokichi x Rantaro)

Honest Body

Freely Offred, Fairly Stolen

Treasure Our Escape

Tenkouma (Kokichi x Tenko)

Yellow Flowers, Purple Stems

Ounaga (Kokichi x Angie)

The Warmth Of A Smile

Snapshot 

Shirouma (Kokichi x Tsumugi)

Die Another Day For Me

Sainaga (Shuichi x Angie)

A Diving First Meeting

Saimatsu (Shuichi x Kaede)

Tea and Compliments

Saimaki (Shuichi/Maki)

Slow Steps Forward

(Kirumi x Himiko)

A Healing Potion

Kirumaki (Kirumi x Maki)

I’ll Clean Your Hands

Sairumi (Kirumi x Shuichi)

A Helping Hand To Guide You

Amasai (Rantaro x Shuichi)

Four Days, A Fortnight, Or Forever

OT3 fics

Kiiboruma (Kokichi x Miu x Kiibo)

On My Shoulder

Cigarette Smoke and Engagement Rings

Case File: Kidnapped Kaede

Saioumatsu (Kokichi x Kaede x Shuichi)

Hats and Hairpins

Let Me See You Smile

Every Day, Every Nighht, Every Note I Play...

(Kokichi x Kaede x Maki)

Nail Polish

Irounaga (Kokichi x Miu x Angie)

The Lake House

Dim Lights Backstage

Oumamitojo (Kokichi/Rantaro/Kirumi)

A Home To Return To

OC fics

A Taste of Kimchi

Scattered Memories

Twinswap

No One Has To Know

Don’t Talk About It

Getting to Know Each Other

Wear Your Face, Carve A Place

Tea Time Talk

Long fics

Powerful Skeletons (Killing Game) (Saioumatsu)

Dice Daycare (Pokemon AU)

Alley Cat and Street Rat (Miraculous AU) (Oumatsu)

Fire Emblem AU

Children of Blood and Blades

Point Your Blade Toward Freedom

Monsters Out Of The Box