#How to take the temperature of a cat in its ears

[petdogs]

How to Take Your Cats Body Temperature

Taking your cat's temperature is the only surefire method to determine if it is feverish. If the cat is not resisting you, the entire procedure ought to take just a few minutes. Most cats typically have a body temperature of 100.5 to 102.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Depending on other symptoms, a trip to the veterinarian can be necessary in cases with a higher fever. Read Here...

[endursent]

Imagining for my parter turned into a cat. Imagine reader being a very popular kitty among the cat society and get mating offers from other kitties how would the guys react? I think Jelly jelly Jing yuan for sure, silent anger stare from Dan heng and pouty pouty Aven.

【 content; established relationship , humour , some jealousy/possessiveness...? , gn!reader , temporarily turned cat (reader) 】

【 characters; aventurine , dan heng , jing yuan 】

【 note; this got a bit out of hand. thank you for the ask! love these little goobers... 】

【 word count; 2.827 | masterlist 】

Jing Yuan;

As much as you enjoy being pampered and cuddled by your dear Jing Yuan… it’s much too hot to be engulfed by his practically radiating body today. The weather systems of the Luofu have been slowly shifting into simulating the warmth of summer, and it seems whoever is in charge of maintenance forgot to input a maximum temperature, because no way this was intentional. 

  It’s humid, hot, and you want to find a little pond to lie down beside—worst case scenario, you hang out in the Fyxestroll Gardens. They’re always cool and nice, cloudy and spooky enough to chase people away from crowding it on warmer days. 

  Trotting down the connecting paths between the Exalted Sanctum and the nearest transport station, your ears flick curiously as you hear footsteps in tune with yours, with only mild delay. Raising your gaze, you see a small white and brown coloured cat on top of the large partition walls separating markets from the pathways. It stops when you do and sits down, tail swaying almost excitedly.

  You’re not entirely sure what it wants, but you have a starskiff to catch! You start walking again and pick up your speed until the other cat runs out of walls to run along and follow you.

  It doesn’t become an isolated incident either, you were trying to get some grilled fish from a stall you often visit in your normal form. Using your best kitty eyes and rubbing along old Wan’s legs to try and get some leftovers (not that Jing Yuan doesn’t feed you, but you REALLY want this specifically made fish), the old stall-owner gives in and gives you some small pieces, though raw—better for your current form, not your preference in texture, but you’ll take it. 

  Unfortunately, as you’re carrying your prize along to return to the Seat of Divine Foresight, a white-furred cat joins you on the street—immediately rubbing its body along yours as it’s tail sways happily and finds yours. 

  Now, you just assume this guy wants your fish. This is YOUR fish. 

  Hissing and kicking their side with your hind leg, you shoot off to protect your loot and hurry to the Cloud Knight that guards the way to the Seat. 

  The third time, you’re sitting and watching Jing Yuan play chess against Yanqing yet again, usually you would be busy at your own job at this time, but given your predicament… you get to hang around. You whacked a piece off the board once, and now you’re a confined prisoner on Jing Yuan’s lap. 

  After dozing off for a while—ironically on the dozing general’s lap—you wake up to see Jing Yuan scooping a cat up and moving it away. Where did that come from??

  As you had been sleeping, two cats had come into the gardens, which isn’t too unusual, the ponds and thick trees are perfect napping spots and no one minds having cats around to pet and feed. Though they hadn’t come to nap or beg for treats, they had hopped over to Jing Yuan and tried to squeeze their little heads between his arms to poke their noses at you or sniff at your fur. 

  Not wanting to wake you, Jing Yuan had scooped them up with one hand and deposited them behind him, but they kept coming back. He frowns slightly as your large eyes blink open, awakened from your cozy nap. “Are you hiding anything under yourself?” he wonders, perhaps the cats are smelling some food from you. But no, you’re empty handed(pawed?) and confused. 

  As Jing Yuan seemed occupied dragging the cats away from you and hadn’t made his turn in several minutes, Yanqing leaned back. Looks like he’ll just have to wait until this is resolved. 

  You stand up on Jing Yuan’s thighs and shake yourself, poking your head out over his forearm to meet noses with one of the cats. Maybe they just need to say hi and they’ll leave.

  That is, until you look to the left and are met with a raised rear from the other cat right in front of your face. 

  Jing Yuan laughs at the sight of your eyes bulging in surprise and quickly snapping your head back from sniffing at the other cats. He cradles you in his arms and rubs his large hand over your tummy. “Seems like my little kitty has been presented to, have you been followed around like this recently? “ Jing Yuan smiles and pinches your paw gently. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have protected you from this terrible harassment~” 

  You wouldn’t really call it that, you thought one had just been curious, another had been trying to steal your fish—and then there was that one time a cat had tried to bite the back of your neck, but you thought he was just trying to pick a fight. 

  Maybe not actually being a cat made their intentions fly over your head. 

  Standing up and disregarding his game with Yanqing—who shot to his feet and protested—Jing Yuan carried you back inside the Sea of Divine Foresight, gently shooing the following cats out of the doorway with his foot before settling down on a soft divan by a wall. “There, now I’ve got you all to myself,” he says, scratching behind your ear to have you lean into his hand for more. You're just too cute, how can he let others fawn over you when it should be him that showers you with affection? After all, he knows you best, and he knows the best spots to scratch and comb through where you can't reach. “Even like this, you’re irresistible? Perhaps I should put a cute collar on you with my smell and name on it.”

  You sneeze as his hand brushes over your whiskers, you peer up at him—you have a feeling that he wouldn’t stop there, Jing Yuan would gift you a human sized one when you’re back to normal too! 

Dan Heng;

He doesn’t particularly like the idea of bringing you off the Express while you’re like this—mostly concerned that you’ll get lost or distracted and then get lost. What if you get hit by a car?? You don’t have any vets on the Express. 

  It’s in his nature to overthink about these things, and to be worried for your safety. You’re just… so small like this, practically without any tools to protect yourself, and cute enough that someone might try to yoink you off the street for their own. 

  Regardless, he’s been convinced to take you with him. By a combination of your big kitten eyes, and March’s attempt at mimicking it for double the effect—it was unsettling enough that it halved the progress your pleading made, but half is enough when it’s you. 

  He does however, not expect you to be bringing a hoard of other cats behind you after wandering off for a few minutes. 

  Dan Heng blinks at you as you run to him and practically throw yourself onto his pant leg, scrambling up his clothes like a squirrel fleeing from a bear, with about seven cats behind you. 

  He puts his hands under you to hold you after you make it up to his chest and nearly stumbles back as they try to rise on their hind legs to sniff at you. What the hell did you do for this to happen?? Thankfully, Dan Heng expertly navigates past the army of curious cats and escapes the situation with you in his arms. 

  Not the first and likely not the last time he has to rescue you from a situation you yourself created.

  Thankfully, you behave yourself for the remainder of the day and there’s no further incident… Dan Heng relaxes slightly—until he spots you sitting idly on a bench on the side of the streets where you, Dan Heng, March and Himeko had been looking at an expansive market. He looks away, you look rather content sitting there and observing the crowds for now. 

  When he looks back, there’s another cat there. Do you just emit “come bother me” scents for other cats? He doesn’t smell anything strange from you at all… but then again, he’s not a cat. 

  Dan Heng doesn’t get immediately alarmed… maybe it’s just a cat saying hello, that’s not very unusual for them to do… he thinks…? Ever since you turned into a cat, he’s had to confront the fact that he doesn’t, in fact, know much about cats. 

  He side-eyes the interaction for a while until Himeko asks for his attention on something, and he turns away for only a split second. When he looks towards you again after about two minutes at most… you’re loafing on the bench, and the other cat is licking and grooming your fur in spots you can’t reach properly. 

  Now, seeing two cats sitting around and grooming each other can be quite cute, he’s seen videos of it before…

  But this isn’t just some cats? One of them is his partner! He feels something prickle at the back of his mind, and though he tries to hold his instincts back whenever they rise—he purred once on accident when you were stroking his hair before bed and never let his guard down since—Dan Heng can’t help it when he turns around and crosses the street. 

  You blink up at him, half-asleep from the warmth of the market and the thorough cleaning from this very friendly cat. You hadn’t even noticed the other cat’s tail was entwined with yours. 

  Rather rudely, but not aggressively, Dan Heng pushes the other cat away from you, its body just sliding a bit to the right. He then picks you up and gives the offending cat a sharp look before turning away and taking you to the rest of the group.

  You were confined to being “bag carried” for the rest of the mission, where Dan Heng literally put you in a bag where only your head stuck up out of it, and carried you around like that. Mostly because his arms would get too tired of holding you normally, and you could snooze easily if you wanted to. 

  You open your eyes to find the familiar ceiling of the Express’ archive room, and Dan Heng setting the bag aside. You stretch, limbs reaching into the air. Dan Heng stares and a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, he takes your front paws with separate hands and holds them up where you were stretching them. “Cute… though I do prefer you as normal, I hope to hold your hands again soon.”

Aventurine;

Seeing that the progress of getting you back to normal was taking far longer than he anticipated, Aventurine made it a habit to take you along. He would often at the start leave you at home over most of the day and only bring you around if he was going to be in his office… but concerned you would either die of boredom or scratch the furniture in frustration until there was nothing left, he had you along with him.

  Aventurine works a lot—too much, you would sometimes say. If he’s not carrying out missions or doing more lengthy business with select companies or operations, he is attending meetings, answering messages or other things. 

  Mostly, he travels between indebted worlds.

  And you DESPISE the transportation method. 

  Touching down on solid ground is heavenly, you hop out of his arms and lay down flat. It’s not so bad in human form, but like this? Sucks. Terrible. You hate it. 

  Aventurine only laughs and scoops you up again. “I’ve got places to be today, how about you go explore for a while? Report to me the details when you’re done,” he jokes and rubs your cheek with his thumb, making you blink a few times as his finger comes so close to your eyes. “Just don’t go too far, hm? Meet me back here for dinner.”

  With that, he leans down and gives your furry head a good smooch and sets you down again. You shake yourself and look up at him… Aventurine stares down at you. You’re both waiting for the other to leave first.

  After a brief standstill, you’re the first to break the eye-contact and turn to trot away. New world and city to explore—and doing it from the perspective of a cat is surprisingly easy and fun, though you do sometimes get chased away by old ladies with brooms. 

  There’s a surprisingly large cat population in this city, despite the high rise buildings and gloomy scenery they also all seem well fed, perhaps it’s a very friendly place? Or perhaps they’re all house-cats having some fresh air. 

  You approach one to greet, you’ve become rather adept at recognising whether a cat is a stray or just an outside-cat. The cats of Pier Point are friendly in the upper districts, but get rather suspicious and territorial in the lower ones… which is rather understandable, you suppose.

  The cat you walk up to and greet has entirely black fur and bright yellow eyes, they almost blended into the alleyway you spotted them in but had very approachable body language, sitting and licking their paw lazily. 

  As you hop onto the dumpster they sit on, the cat looks up and walks over, poking noses with you as you sniff each other—you mostly do it for politeness’ sake, you can’t entirely discern what each scent means… you can smell it, but you don’t have the mind of a cat to understand what it’s supposed to indicate. 

  You do smell a lot of wet cat coming from this one though. No wonder it was bathing itself.

  After it got a bit too busy sniffing around your tail, it thankfully pulled back when you whacked them away… for now. After doing some more exploring, you found that more and more cats were poking their heads out to greet you—fine enough, but they kept following you around. 

  Even after meeting up with Aventurine again and meowing at him in varying tones, and him nodding along as if he could understand you perfectly… they still kept coming around. Finding a restaurant that Aventurine was satisfied with AND allowed cats isn’t easy picking, but he did eventually pick one and plop you down opposite of him on the chair. 

  Never fails to amuse him to look at you from across a dining or restaurant table where you’re poking your head above the edge of it to peer up at the plates. Aventurine leans on his palm, chin resting on it calmly as he reads from the menu. You meow repeatedly until he takes one tone as more affirmative than the others and figures that’s the dish you wanted… whether it's cat safe, well, he’ll just eat the non-safe things off your plate. You won’t complain… much. 

  While waiting for your food, Aventurine shows you something on his phone—not only is he sitting across from a cat in a restaurant as if he were on a date with it, but also showing it his phone—but you get distracted when the plates arrive. Thankfully the waiter had relayed it to the kitchen that there was an actual cat going to eat this deliciously made plate of shrimps, and it seems they either humoured him, or fully believed him.

  Either way, you have shrimp!

  While you lick at the plate and gobble down the seafood, you don’t even notice another cat hopping up into the chair next to you—not until it tries to steal some of your food. You hiss and swat at them to get them away, but it doesn’t deter them much. 

  Aventurine swallows his bite and sighs. “My date is being encroached on, you wouldn’t dare leave with another, darling?” his dramatics only makes your frustration with the other cat trying to bite at the back of your neck rise. How about he stop whining and help you?! 

  Your protesting, communicated in a series of aggrieved meows, goes unattended for a while until he hums. “I suppose I must rescue my date from this interloper,” Aventurine says. You think he’s being a bit dramatic with his wording, but once he picks up the offending cat by the scruff of his neck and shoos him away, you are relieved to be at peace with your shrimp again.

  He squats down by the chair you sit in and rubs your head, a smile touching his expression as your eyes close. “There, better? I’ll be sure to keep all these curious cats away from you.” though it was rather amusing to watch you hiss and whack away, he would rather avoid a situation where you're uncomfortable—especially in a form and state where you can hardly express that discomfort and advocate for yourself. Aventurine much rather prefers to have you for himself.

  You nuzzle your head into his palm, a small rumbling purr leaving your chest. Better. 

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Cat got your tongue (Percival de Rollo x Half Tabaxi!Reader)

synopsis: Percy liked to believe he wasn´t territorial or easily jealous, but something about seeing you with Vax makes his blood boil.

warnings: jealousy, marking, smut, afab reader

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

A/N: Thank you @kawaiiangel906 for this request and I am so so sorry it took me so long to get to it. I hope you still enjoy. <3

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

Laughter sounded over the grounds of the keep from outside all the way into Percy's workshop. Not even concealed by the sounds of the white-haired man tinkering with a weapon. It wasn't like he had much concentration left for it at the moment anyway, but what little was left of it before fled faster than it had come to him. This had been going on for far too long in his more or less humble opinion. This thing between you and Vax’ildan. Not a thing, as you had reminded him countless times, fur covered ears twitching at the idea of it alone. Worries temporarily stifled with a sweet kiss to the forehead and a deep hug. Filled with whispered confessions of love.

Grumbling under his breath Percy makes his way out of the keep.

“Percy!” You immediately jump up and run towards him, a wide grin on your face.

Percy’s eyes lay on Vax for a moment longer, who sits left behind on the grass where you had just trained with him, looking right back at the two of you. When Percy's eyes snap back to you he can see your mouth moving. Had he really not heard you talking this entire time?

“I'm sorry, my love. Could you repeat yourself?” He asks  the back of his neck.

“I just told you about my training with Vax… Are you not feeling well?” Your eyebrows draw together tightly.

“N-No, it's nothing. I am quite alright. Thank you.” Percy takes a hasty step back to avoid your hand coming up to feel his temperature. “Perhaps too much time in the workshop. I am happy that the progress you and Vax’ildan are making is to your liking.”

“Come sit with us then. We were about to be finished for the day anyway.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the other taking him to pull him along.

Night has never been particularly calm amongst the group either. Most certainly not since you had obtained the keep. Laughter and the sounds of people drinking into the early morning hours traveled easily. But this night's rest was particularly hard to come by. It could. Your bones hurt from the extensive exercise each day and the fights in between. Just not with a certain someone distracting you from the sweet release of slipping off to slumberland by needy lips grazing over the skin of your shoulder blades and teeth nipping at the column of your neck.

“Percival…” You groan. “It is late.”

The words come out mumbled and somewhat unintelligible. Still you turn your head until you can see the white head of hair from the corners of your eyes. One heavy hand finding its way into the light tresses to play with them.

“You have barely spent any time with me or anyone that isn't Vax’ildan lately.” Comes the equally mumbled response against your back.

He doesn't stop what he is doing until you are awake again and turn around fully.

“Love…” You begin a sentence but are quickly shut up by the possessive grip pulling your waist impossibly close to his.

“Shhh. This will just serve as a reminder to the others that you are mine.” Percy's teeth nip right below your jawline. Sucking on the tender flesh until deep purple bruises bloom all over.

Pressed into the mattress by his lean hips, you writhe and mewl helplessly. Subconsciously, your own hips begin to grind up against his after a while. Unable to just take it anymore.

“More.” You plead in high pitched tones. No matter how much you try, your voice just won't stay down.

“Nuh uh uh. What's the magic word, dear?” Percy reprimands you with a smile on his face.

He can feel the movement of your hips as well and it is a game to him. He is fully in charge of you and your pleasure in this moment and he knows it just as well as you do.

“Please, Percy. I need more.” You try again with your tail wrapping tightly around Percy's middle to prevent him from possibly pulling away.

“See, that wasn't so hard. When you ask nicely people will be far more inclined to give you what you are asking for.” He slides down almost unnoticeably, pushing up your nightdress, until his chin rests against your sternum, just underneath the valley of your breasts. Scattering more purple spots over them and then wandering further down. A puff of warm breath bringing your legs together around his shoulders. With a chuckle and two fingers, Percy opens them up again.

“Now, let everyone hear who you belong to.” The words echo in your ear as only moments after, his length impaled you in one rough thrust.

A groan in unison fills the room, on one side from the sudden stretch and on the other, because in response your claws shot out and dug into his shoulders. The rhythm with which he starts thrusting into you as soon as he recovers, has you near screaming. Moans of his name and desperate pleas string together to a sort of prayer. The sweetest prayer Percy had ever heard in his life. Until he has driven you over the edge so often that your throat is sore and your body is a twitching mess. Brain so clouded in fog that you can barely concentrate on anything beside his body against yours.

As you lay beside each other, entirely spent, Percy's hand trailing over your side, a satisfied purring fills the room from your lungs. Not even strong enough to keep your eyes open any longer, you are finally granted the relief of sleep. Dreaming of only one man. The one right beside you, who at that moment felt you were his completely. Pressing one last kiss against the back of your neck as he drifted off to sleep as well.

[unclewaynemunson]

After Vecna is defeated and the world goes back to normal for good, Steve thinks he can get on with his life. And for a while that's exactly what happens: his scars heal and, against everything he would have ever expected, Eddie heals right beside him.

But a year later, his life gets turned upside down in a whole new way. He gets one more hit to the head. It's a stupid accident, really, something involving a broken lightbulb, an old stepladder and an unfortunate fall. He loses pretty much all his sight. His once expressive brown eyes become hollow shells, one staring right ahead and one turned sideways, but both equally useless.

At first, the darkness is scary. It's frustrating, to be robbed of one of the few things he could always rely on. He has to get to know the world around him in a whole new way. There are days when he hates it, days when he wants to stay in bed in his room forever. There are days when he wants to scream, even days when he wants to cut his own eyes out like Victor Creel did before him.

But slowly, little by little, he learns to live with it. He grows a new appreciation for beautiful music and good food, things that stimulate his other senses that he now relies more heavily on. He develops a sharp ear for people's voices and intonations to make up for the loss of seeing their facial expressions. Where he used to love seeing Robin's bright eyes and Dustin's excited smile, he now treasures the sound of Dustin's laughter and the scent of Robin's cologne.

The one thing he will never stop missing, though, is Eddie's face. The way his eyes light up when he smiles. The way his mouth curves into that mischievous grin that Steve once fell in love with. The way his fluffy curls cascade over his back. Those are the things he misses the most.

There's a lot that makes up for that loss: he can cling to Eddie's arm whenever he wants, without having to worry about people taking their affectionate touches the wrong way. He gets to rely on Eddie's helping hand and to bask in Eddie's scent. And, most importantly: he gets to listen to Eddie's voice all the time, when he describes what's happening around them in lively phrases and with passion in his voice like the true storyteller he is.

“Do you know that there's one thing you're always leaving out when you're describing things to me?” Steve asks him one day, when he feels Eddie's hands move through the air around them during his excited monologue about the orange cat that is currently visiting their garden, chasing after butterflies and going after its own tail in the flowerbeds.

“Huh?” Eddie sounds confused.

“You're always leaving out the most important part,” Steve continues. He lifts his hand and slowly moves it to find Eddie's face. He feels his curls underneath his fingertips, then slides them further over Eddie's features.

“What do you mean, Stevie?”

“You never mention how you look. Only what you see. But if I could see, I'd be looking at you, Eddie. I'd watch your face. I can still remember that curve of your mouth, that crease between your eyebrows...” He lets his hand linger on the places he mentions. “But it's all becoming less clear. I'll never see it again. I don't wanna lose that.”

Steve feels his hand getting covered by another one, lets his fingers be guided across Eddie's cheek.

“You won't,” Eddie tells him softly. “There's no way I'll let you lose that.”

Steve can already feel the change in temperature underneath his fingers before Eddie speaks.

“I'm blushing right now, Stevie. Cause of what you said. And...” He guides Steve's hand further down over the uneven skin of his scarred cheek. “I'm smiling. Just a little bit. Not that wide smile I have when I'm messing with you, but the smaller one, the one that's just for you.”

Eddie squeezes his hand before he lets go. A moment later, his lips brush softly against Steve's, something that's not quite a kiss. Steve can feel that Eddie is about to pull back before it becomes anything more, but he presses back into Eddie's space, chases his warm lips with his own, and wraps his arms around Eddie's body to pull him closer.

Kissing is best without looking anyway.

[violentdelights-violentendss]

you couldn't keep me off for long 🤺🤺

how about the same three (dazai aku and fedya) but with a reader that runs super cold ?? i love this idea for no reason because dazai would tease, akutagawa would just be funny because haha sickly victorian children, and fedya has fuckign anemia so ofc he's cold 24/7 as well. ur writing style is also delectable i would like to eat it tysm

(me when i read ur things)

OMG I LOVE THIS! (Bro thank you sm i seriously feel like my writing style is shit but I love you…and please never fend off)

to the anon requested the bsd men and cold fic it is underway, I currently have written half of it…the ones with all BSD men take longer to write 😞😞

off I go to writing this ✨✨

BSD Men With a Reader That Runs Cold

In this post: 💃 Osamu Dazai, Ryonosuke Akutagawa, Fyodor Dostoyevsky💃

Pairing: Fem!reader/BSDMen

Synopsis: BSDMen and a gf that runs cold.

Osamu Dazai

Dazai is a man that burns with joy and passion in his everyday life. Consequently, his body temperature almost always runs high. And as the saying goes, opposites attract: you’re almost always cold, and Dazai, the man of your life, seems to have fire licking his skin constantly. He eagerly appoints himself to be your personal furnace, wrapping you in his arms when you shiver, and lending you his coat without you even having to utter a word. But his gestures come with a small price. Your boyfriend always teases you, his cat-like eyes smiling fondly as you glare at him, bundled in a mountain of covers and still needing his body heat. Dazai’s favorite joke is to propose sex as a way to warm you up. No matter how much he teases, however, he will always be ready to rescue you from the freezing cold that claws at your skin, enjoying the time he gets to spend holding you close to his heart.

You walked through the streets of Yokohama, shivering like you were experiencing your own magnitude level 5 earthquake. You were bundled up in a large coat, a scarf and gloves, even a small hat adoring your adorable face, and yet, you were still shivering so hard your teeth chattered.

Your boyfriend, Dazai, was walking leisurely in front of you, wearing only his usual trench coat, seemingly unaffected by the cold that held you tightly in its claws.

“D-Dazai!” You called, feeling as if you couldn’t take another step without shattering into a myriad of tiny ice shards.

“Yes, my belladonna?”

“M’ cold…”

Dazai sauntered over to you, leaning down to peck your nose. “Such a rare occasion, isn’t it, Bella?” He cooed mockingly, caressing your lips with his thumb.

You swatted his hand away, whining. “Stop teasing. I need solutions, not problems.”

“Okay, I have a great solution.” Dazai declared, looking in your eyes very seriously. You nodded, listening, blowing some warm air on your freezing hands, which still felt on the verge or falling off, even with your gloves on. Dazai’s hands took yours in his, warming them up with his own personal heat. “We go back there, and I fuck you so good — ”

“DAZAI!” You shouted, afraid someone could hear you. You rapidly checked around the both of you, terrified that a little kid might have been lurking in a corner. Returning to look at your boyfriend, you found him doubled over, laughing.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” He said, a hint of laugh still dancing in his tone. “Come here,” he said, opening his trench coat. You slid inside, instantly feeling warmer. Dazai closed the coat around you, holding you tightly against him, feeling a little proud when you stopped shivering. “When we get home, l’ll make you some warm tea.” He promised, already seeing your apartment complex in the near distance.

“And then we cuddle on the couch.” You said, starting feel your ears again.

“And then we make out on the couch, yes.”

“DAZAI!”

Your joyful boyfriend started laughing, and you soon joined, your laughter intertwining into a beautiful melody, as you two walked home. Throughout the walk home, Dazai made sure you were completely covered by his coat, a perfect bundle of warmth. He promised himself he would always be there to hug you till you weren’t shivering anymore.

Ryonosuke Akutagawa

Akutagawa was a normal person, who never felt too hot or too cold. When you burst into his life, all joy and laughter, he had to get used to you, and all your wonderfully eccentric behavior. But the one thing he struggled most with, was your abnormally low body temperature. Whenever you told him you were cold, he would stare at the various layers of clothes you were wearing, as well as the winter coat you had thrown over your shoulders. Akutagawa just…couldn’t understand you. He didn’t try to be mean or anything, his mind just couldn’t make sense of it. Akutagawa soon realized that his body heat helped the perennial cold that seemingly nestled, like a frozen rose, in your heart. Whenever you would be shivering at night, Akutagawa would tentatively wrap you in his arms, and warm you with his body heat. He would crank the heat up in your apartment, despite your protests about the price (he had enough money to spend). Soon, you feeling cold became another quirky aspect of your relationship, and also gave Akutagawa the opportunity to always keep you in his arms without explicitly voicing his desire to do so, which suited your touch-starved boyfriend perfectly fine.

You were at the Port Mafia’s annual Christmas Party: an event that lasted all night long, in one of the many ballrooms owned by the criminal organization. The floors were made of polished wood, and the ceilings were decorated with wonderful paintings, and delicate flowers engraved in the dark wooden beams that supported the high ceilings. The moonlight filtered in through the mosaic windows, coloring the partygoers in different shades.

You were sitting at a table, a glass of glittering champagne in your hand. You were wearing a black slip dress Akutagawa had gifted you. It adorned your body perfectly, a slit exposing your right leg. You looked gorgeous, and Akutagawa stared at you for a good 5 minutes without being able to say anything when you had come out of the bathroom, finding you the epitome of beauty.

The night had been fun: you had successfully dragged Akutagawa to waltz with you, holding you close. You could feel Akutagawa’s heart beat against your chest, a small smile twinkling on his lips. The moment had abruptly ended when Mori had called Akutagawa to raise a toast to the Port Mafia with the rest of the high executives.

You, being a low-level Port Mafia member, had given him a kiss to send him off, and had gone back to sit at your designated table. All the dancing had made you sweat, and now the droplets were cooling on your skin, making you already colder than you always were. You had decided to sip on your champagne to warm yourself up, but your exposed arms were not helping. You had started shivering, setting the flute back down on the table, and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and create a little heat.

“Are you feeling cold, (Y/N)?” Akutagawa asked, dragging a chair to join you. You nodded, sheepishly. Akutagawa glanced at you for a few seconds, his eyes zeroing on your shivering shoulders. He exhaled, not believing he was about to do this.

Slowly, Akutagawa removed his coat, an item of clothing that was seemingly fused to his body: he rarely took it off, and only in the comfort of your home, where he knew the both of you were safe from any danger.

You watched him in utter disbelief as he draped it around your shoulders: it was the greatest act of trust Akutagawa could ever commit towards you.

Seemingly not having moved you to tears enough, he scooted closer with his chair, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tightly against him, trying to transfer some body heat.

Akutagawa was known for not liking any form of PDA. You knew. He knew. The whole Port Mafia knew, which explained the shocked glance Chuuya threw your way.

But honestly, you didn’t care, and nuzzled your face in Akutagawa’s chest, glimmering tears sliding down your cheeks and ruining your makeup: Akutagawa always found proclaiming his love to you to be extremely difficult, but clumsily, through his actions, he always found a way to tell you how much you meant to him.

Your boyfriend felt your shoulders shake, and mistook you to be still freezing. He held you even closer, until he noticed the wetness on his chest, harshly pulling you away from him to check on you. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” His panicked tone made you laugh through the tears.

“You’re just perfect, you know.” You whispered, bringing his hands to your mouth, leaving a red lipstick mark on his knuckles. “I couldn’t have gotten luckier.”

Now it was Akutagawa’s turn to feel his heart melt, his eyes suddenly watering. He coughed, looking away, trying to maintain his cold persona.

“Akutagawa, it’s our song!” You squealed, suddenly hearing the melody play. “Let’s go dance!” You excitedly grabbed his hand, almost dragging him to the middle of the dance floor, his coat still around your shoulders.

Akutagawa almost protested, but the smile that was engraved in your eyes the minute you started swaying in his arms was a force too strong for him to resist. You two ended the night in each others arms, singing the song’s romantic lyrics to one another, the mosaic windows coloring each part of your faces with a different color.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Listen, Fyodor is anemic, he’s always cold. Russia’s harsh winters must have infected his body, because this evil mastermind is always shivering. And when the two of you got together, and you told him you were a person that generally ran cold, Fyodor smiled, saying he was the same. The two of you share the same struggles on a daily basis, and try to rely on one another for warmth, but with little to no results. The heat in your apartment is always cranked so high that Nikolai directly comes in shorts whenever has to come over. Whenever you two sleep, you have at least 5 covers and huddle in each other’s arms. Whenever you whine that you’re cold, Fyodor does hug you, but you both know it won’t be enough, so he throws a cover on both of you, and only then can you two start to warm up. A warm tea, or a warm milk, are mandatory every night, and you have a multitude of hot water bottles stashed in the kitchen. You use one almost every night. Still, even if Fyodor knows that hugging you won’t change much, he secretly adores sleeping with you in his arms, because the love that you so clearly feel for him is enough to warms his heart.

“Fyodor, I’m still cold,” you whimpered, trying to huddle in his arms. The two of you had been cuddling in bed for thirty minutes, bundled underneath an avalanche of covers and duvets, each of you holding a warm water bottle. Fyodor was feeling…okay. Not warm, exactly but not as freezing as you were. You must have been tired: you usually felt colder when you were tired. Fyodor tried his best to rub his arms against yours, but to no avail.

“I can tell, myshka…you’re shivering,” he cooed, trying to tuck the covers around you. But nothing seemed to be working that night. Fyodor leaned back, trying to figure something out, his already fast mind moving at inhumane speed. “What if I draw us a warm bath?” He asked, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

Your eyes shot open, a glimmer of hope in your smile. “Yes…please,” you scooted out of his embrace, watching as your boyfriend braved the cold, sliding out of the sheets. You instantly felt colder, now that he was gone. You hugged his hot water battle as well, watching as his tall form slid inside the bathroom. You heard the water running. The harsh sound of water on marble soon changing to water sloshing on water.

You waited impatiently, jumping out of the bed when you heard his sweet voice calling you. You ran to the bathroom, trying to avoid the cold’s claws that reached for you. You almost threw yourself in the bathroom, closing the door behind you to not let the heat from the heater make its escape.

Fyodor looked at you lovingly, helping you slide your clothes off. You didn’t wait for Fyodor, almost throwing yourself inside the large bathtub. You instantly felt the cold hidden in your limbs wither and die, finally feeling at peace. The water sloshed around you as Fyodor joined you in the tub, his pale skin almost taking a pearl-like shade in the dim lights.

You happily swam towards him, falling into his arms. Fyodor welcomed you with a small smile, glad to see your cheeks flushed with heat for once. “We should do this more often,” you thought out loud, playing with your boyfriend’s hands.

“Noted, milaya.” He purred, feeling a drowsy sense of relaxation spreading throughout his body. “This sure is peaceful,” he murmured, sinking further in the bathtub, eyeing your naked body underneath the trembling surface of the water.

“Stop,” you laughed, noticing his gaze, swimming away from him and flicking some water in his face with your foot. Fyodor moved uncharacteristically face, grabbing your ankle and tugging you toward him, and pressing a kiss to your soft skin. You giggled shyly, hiding underneath the water.

Fyodor dunked his head underneath the water, meeting your eyes. You smiled at him, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you against him. He pulled both of you out of the water, watching as it cascade down both of your bodies. You laughed merrily; Fyodor laid his head on your chest, closing his eyes and humming quietly. You caressed his head, diving back in the water when you felt a sudden chill caress your spine.

You kissed Fyodor lazily, watching with half-lidded eyes as he opened the tap to let more scalding water fill the tub around you.

You two cuddled in the warm water for hours, sometimes kissing, sometimes just laying in each others arms.

You were falling in and out of consciousness, and barely noticed Fyodor lifting you out of the now lukewarm water, drying you and slipping your pjs on you. He then carried you to bed, tucking the both of you in, carefully. You snuggled against his chest, and peacefully fell asleep, finally warm, Fyodor’s hand held tightly in yours.

[aquarelliwrites]

Reading Date

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader BLURB: A miserably cold day during winter break gives Oscar the opportunity to have a closer look at one of your hobbies. CONTENT WARNINGS: passing mention of alcohol, fluff, you/yours pronouns with no specified gender, no use of Y/N

1.8k

Weak white daylight streamed in through the gauzy curtains of your sitting room - first illuminating dust particles caught floating in its path, then reaching you on the sofa. The sage green record player played its honeyed vintage notes at a leisurely pace, the soft tones of a melody on piano only there for you to hear.

By all means, you were happy with this. The radiator right under the window kept the sitting room at a relatively normal temperature considering the miserable January weather outside, and you buried yourself in blankets in addition - if someone were to ask, you'd have to guess some number between 3 and 5, all covering different parts of you.

The collection of essays you'd been dragging yourself through reading was finally finished, which made you more than happy to pull one of your 'rainy day' books off the shelf and decide if it was a worthy successor to the last novel you'd read. The essays were incredibly interesting and provided a fresh view of the world, sure, but sometimes all you really needed was a good piece of fiction to sink your teeth into. Your boyfriend sometimes teased you about the number of books you bought and never read, but your argument was sound: you often needed the story to find you at the right time to enjoy it fully.

Speak of the devil - a door down the hallway creaked open and closed faintly, and you hear Oscar's soft footsteps on the hardwood shortly before he speaks up.

"Good morning." He really was the embodiment of a polite cat right then and there - cozy clothes, tired smile, a voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Good morning, darling," you smiled back. His hands held the back of the couch behind you, and you observed the way they supported his weight before craning your neck upwards to see him looking at you upside-down. "How'd you sleep? Sorry if the music woke you up."

"Oh, no, don't worry about that." He rested his entire forearm on the backrest now, laying his head in a way where it was right next to yours. You swore you got goosebumps from the way his morning voice spoken right next to your ear scratched your brain just right. "I couldn't even hear it in the hallway. I slept fine. Take it you did too?"

You nodded, sitting up slightly and reaching for his cheek to press a soft kiss on his lips. He let out a satisfied hum, reaching up to tangle his hand in your hair. You weren't a new couple by any means, having not been in your 'honeymoon lovebirds' phase for at least a year or two by now; still, you loved that every kiss and small gesture you exchanged still made you feel as warm and bright as the day you met.

"How does coffee sound?" He asked when he pulled away, his hand traveling from your hair to cradle your face. Tiny sparks lit a fire under where his thumb ran over the apple of your cheek, and you briefly shut your eyes to savor the moment.

"Coffee sounds great, Osc,” you spoke, and after his pointed pause chuckled, “please and thank you."

His laugh is in harmony with the song on the vinyl - although maybe you’re just young and in love and so it seems that way. The sound of him grinding coffee beans for you both sort of fades into the background, so you don’t really notice he’s back until a latte’s placed on the side table next to you. In the rich foam, the figure of a lopsided heart catches your attention.

“You did latte art for me,” you gush, a grin seemingly stuck on your face as he sets his mug down by the other end of the sofa. It’s nearly surreal: the athlete behind the visor is curling up on the couch with you now, sipping a latte from a matching mug and choosing a Netflix show. Lifting the needle and turning off the turntable, you watch the vinyl come to a slow stop before putting it away with care.

You’re left sitting in a comfortable silence after that, with background noise of muffled dialogue and the occasional flipping of a page. He did manage to end up with his legs completely in your space under the blankets, though. Not that you minded.

“You don’t have anything planned for today, right?” Is it shitty if he secretly really, really hoped you would say no?

"No.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief, and you smiled at his antics. “I was thinking about maybe, possibly taking a walk later, but…" you looked out of the window. The street outside was empty and foggy, and the overcast sky enveloped everything like the world’s most depressing duvet. “I’d have to bundle up, and I’m just not feeling it right now.”

"We could have a day in. Just the two of us."

"That sounds lovely, Osc." And with that, you were back to silence, each of you cozy in your own little bubble.

Oscar did end up having to get up later on your behalf to bring you a snack, but he lingered by the bookshelf for a strangely long time on his way back.

"What's up?" You glanced over to see him craning his head sideways and examining the titles.

"I kind of want to read with you. Just… not sure what." It’s cute how focused he was - his brows furrowed adorably and he chewed his lower lip a little. He didn’t even know how attractive you found him like that.

"I thought you weren't a book person."

"You seem like you enjoy it." He shrugged. "Any recommendations?"

It was a couple of beats of collective pondering of the titles before you clicked your tongue and pointed to the middle rack. "Uh, fifth from the left, white spine with blue letters."

He followed your instructions, but playfully rolled his eyes at the title. "'Normal People'? Is this supposed to mean something?"

"It's not a jab at you, it's just a pretty good character study that reads fairly easily." You sounded a little defensive, so he lifted his hands up in mock surrender before collapsing back on the sofa and curling up. He didn’t miss the opportunity to steal one of your blankets then, laughing at the death glare you sent him.

You waited for him to settle before scooting yourself and the blanket nest over, resting under his left arm. A satisfied sigh left you at the sensation of immense warmth and comfort you found and let him know you don’t plan to move away anytime soon.

Not that he really minded.

“Who has to cook?” He asked you around midday, both of you already deeply invested in your reading.

You hummed indecisively. “I'll rock-paper-scissors you for it?”

Oscar agreed, and you both cupped your fists in your left hands.

"Best of three," he added after losing the first round. You're unsurprised he lost overall - he always chose scissors first.

“Best of five?” He suggested.

“Get to it, pastry boy. Chop chop.”

He sighed dramatically, like the weight of the world sat upon his shoulders, and stood up suddenly, leaving you to fall into a fit of giggles - now in a fully lying position.

Eventually, you poured yourself a drink from the fridge and sat yourself all pretty on the kitchen island. He hummed along to some song from his Spotify, and you took a moment to really admire him. Even in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair still fell in that graceful swoop across his forehead; the way you can see his forearms flex with how he rolled up his sleeves made your thoughts race.

You did also catch yourself staring at his ass. It was unavoidable.

“They should call you Oscar Pi-ass-tri, goddamn.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder and cocked his hip with a sly smile. “Did you put any alcohol in there, baby?”

“You know I'm just naturally like this.”

“I do.” 

"You know," you took a sip after an extended silence, "the sluttiest thing a man can do is know how to cook delicious meals."

He was quiet for a moment, stirring a pot on the stove, before he shrugged with a small smile tugging upwards at the corners of his lips. "'Guess I'm a filthy whore of a man then."

You both paused, again, and he looked up at you from the pasta sauce he was making. You could have heard a pin drop, then.

In the moment after, you were both roaring with laughter - he was almost on his knees on the floor while your knuckles were white with how hard you were gripping the countertop not to fall off.

You barely wheezed out, "That's your new name in my phone," before Oscar was practically folded over again and you were struggling to catch your breath.

The pasta ended up tasting divine, and you were both full before you knew it. The couch welcomed you back after lunch, the TV just on as background noise to avoid the afternoon drowsiness.

"You were right, you know," he said while marking his place - over your dead body would you let him dog-ear the page - "it is a good character study. I wish they'd just, well, you know. Talk about their problems."

"It's a little frustrating, yeah,” you mumbled. He was so indescribably warm and comfortable and you really couldn’t make yourself move to look at him from where you were still lying under his arm and several blankets. A certain comfort settled deep into your bones, and you felt as heavy as lead. "It ends well, I promise."

"It better." He grumbled, and you responded with a huffy giggle.

While he had a late lie-in, you had been up for a while already by that point. After a few too-long moments of silence, he lifted his elbow and noticed you dozed off completely. Your weight was comfortable on him, and the story was interesting, so he put yours away on the coffee table and decided he could waste the afternoon just like this.

Ultimately, you stirred a couple of times throughout the few hours you were out - never truly waking up, except to pull yourself closer to him. He was more than halfway through the little paperback you assigned him and, surprisingly, he was actually enjoying himself. Maybe it was just because he got to participate in a hobby you like as well. Or maybe he enjoyed the closeness and intimacy of getting to read your little pencil notes in the margins; enjoyed the soothing rhythm of your chest rising and falling; enjoyed the small pleasures of ‘normal people’ things.

It was such a perfect moment that, for an instant, he felt like he could spend every single one of the rest of his days like this.

Note: I'm not as happy with this as I was with the Max fic (and I'm upset with myself for not posting it when I said I would?? alas we live) but Oscar is one of my favorite drivers and I hope I did him justice lol

Liked this? Check out my masterlist!

[graymatters]

It came easy, darlin

I am obsessed with To Someone From a Warm Climate by Hozier, one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard. Draco and Harry have been rattling about in my head with it for months, and it can't possibly do the song justice, but I just had to write these soft boys under covers in the winter.

Harry hears Draco come in before he sees him, the floorboards creaking despite his slow and careful steps. In the cool darkness, Harry watches as Draco tiptoes across their bedroom, quietly shedding his cloak and jacket. It’s late, later than Harry expected him; Draco usually slips in unnoticed after his shifts at St. Mungo’s. But this time, the hinges of the closet door whine when he pulls it open, drawn out by his slow pace, and the hangers ring like a wind chime when he hangs up his clothes. Harry can only chuckle from his spot beneath the covers as Draco sighs a very long and exasperated breath.

“You tried,” Harry says, pulling the blankets down next to him and patting the empty spot on the bed.

“I tried,” Draco agrees as he removes his sea green robes, until he’s standing bare in just a pair of boxers, covered in Golden Snitches (Harry’s boxers, Harry notes. He doesn’t fail to notice the way they fall loose around his hips, the sharpness of his hip bones on full display. Harry’s eyes trail higher, admiring the expanse of pale skin over Draco’s chest, the shape of his arms, the slope of his throat—). 

“Harry, are you listening?”

“No, not at all.”

Draco shakes his head, resting a knee on the edge of the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight, and Harry’s body shifts towards him, not unlike it often does when he’s around Draco, stuck in his orbit.

“I said work was atrocious. And it’s freezing outside,” Draco says with a very explicit and purposeful pout. Christ, Harry loves this man, with his mean eyebrows and his knobby knees and his smart mouth.

Harry reaches for him. “Come here, then. Let me help.”

Draco takes Harry’s hand, slipping into bed beside him. And it happens easy, the way their foreheads come to touch, how their hands wander over familiar breadths of bare skin, the gentle shift of Draco’s leg slotting neatly between Harry’s. Like a cat seeking warmth from a sunny spot on the floor, Draco curls into Harry, soaking up every ounce of Harry’s heat. Harry gives it, would happily give it all, to hear another of Draco’s contented sighs.

“How’s your hip?” Harry asks, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb over the icy skin of Draco’s thigh. Cold temperatures remind them of their age, these days.

“Sore,” Draco answers. His fingers press into Harry’s shoulder, flexing as Harry grazes over tender muscle. “Heat would help.” 

Harry recognizes the unspoken request, giving Draco a chaste kiss in agreement as he closes his eyes. Magic always feels more natural with Draco—easy and willing to spill over from his fingertips with only a thought. He daydreams of their trip to Sardinia last summer, days spent sprawled together on the beach, the sun’s warm rays freckling Draco’s shoulders. He’d kissed every one of them, a hundred times over, before they’d disappeared in the autumn haze. For a moment, they’re on that white sand heat spreading beneath them, until Harry opens his eyes to find Draco, sated and starry eyed as he blows a lock of icy grey hair from his forehead.

Draco hums. “Thank you, darling.”

Sometimes, Harry forgets how hard it was to get to this place, to this moment in their bed. But it’s these moments, with their tangled limbs and mingled breath, that make it easy to choose each other, day after day and year after year. 

A gust of wind shakes the tree branches that hang over the house. An icy rain prattles at the windows. The radiator creaks from its spot in the corner. Harry pays them no mind as he lays his head on Draco’s chest, lulled to sleep by the graze of Draco’s fingertips at his scalp and the rhythm of Draco’s heartbeat in his ear.

[temis-de-leon]

Day 17 - Jealous kiss

Characters: Solomon x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: none, just fluff. Developing relationship.

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Getting used to only seeing the moon, especially an unfamiliar one, was something that took more of MC’s time than they would like to admit. The darkness, loosing track of time and the drop in temperature were one thing, but it was the lack of vitamin D what proved to be a significant problem. Their body weakened and their mood plummeted to the point where even Lucifer panicked.

Fortunately for all of them, the solution was as simple as adding certain foods to their diet, mainly fish, and of course the brothers bought enough to feed an entire army. In the end, however, MC grew sick of it and resorted to consuming vitamin D supplement pills.

Then they had the dilemma of finishing the whole stack of seafood that filled the entire kitchen, including the fridge, the freezer and the cabinets. Not even Beel could force himself to gulp it down and soon Satan had the genius idea of feeding it to the stray cats.

They would get rid of the awful smell that roamed the house and other cats would visit in hopes of getting more gourmet treats, because where else would they find salmon or trout? At first, obviously, Lucifer refused in fear of any animal creeping inside the house while no one was looking, but once Asmo begged for the damn dead fish to get out, no one dared to complain.

So that’s where they were, the Avatar of Wrath almost crying in happiness while cats climbed all over his body, his younger brother beside him taking selfies with the cutest kittens and MC in a more secluded space giving all of their attention to a particular cat. It had greyish blue eyes and striking long white fur, stained with dirt, but beautiful nonetheless.

A certain sorcerer with similar features stared at them while they cooed at the cat, kissing its nose, scratching its ears and massaging its little paws.

“If I didn’t know you any better”, MC said with uncharacteristic pompousness “I’d think you were jealous”

“Me? Jealous?”

Solomon’s expression was mischievous, but a glint in his eyes betrayed him. He was definitely jealous.

“You must be imagining things, my dear MC”

The term of endearment made their heart flutter, still vulnerable to his teasing even after weeks of endless flirting. Those who weren’t close to them already thought they were dating and after the kiss they’d shared a few days ago during RAD’s latest festival, they might as well be.

It had been a nervous gesture, too short for both of their likings, but MC hadn’t stopped thinking about it. The taste of soda on both of their lips, his hands on their waist, gently keeping them close.

The memory made them feel like a love-struck schoolgirl.

“From the way I see it, you’re simply being too selfish with your affections”

They turned to the side to look at him with an incredulous smile, hugging the cat close to their chest and rubbing its belly. Solomon’s eyebrow twitched at the sight.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?”

“Enlighten me”

Solomon opened his mouth to speak, but his words got stuck in his throat when MC shimmied their way to his body, resting impossibly close to him and letting the cat smell his RAD uniform. He smiled with genuine care and scratched its chin, once again unknowingly increasing MC’s heartbeat.

“Look at him, how handsome he is” murmured MC, their head oriented towards the cat, but their eyes directly looking at the blushing sorcerer “His white hair, his grey eyes… I could kiss him over and over and over again…”

And so they did, hoisting it until their heads were at the same height and enthusiastically pressing loud kisses on the fur. It smelled bad, but they did it anyways.

“Are you being mean on purpose?”

MC laughed at his childish complaint, trying not to make too much fun of his pout and his crossed arms. He only looked at them again when they finally let the cat go and threw themselves at him, making Solomon gasp in surprise.

“You’re funny”

The whisper clashed against his lips and became inaudible to everyone but them.

This kiss was even shorter than the one they shared at the festival, but it eased Solomon’s frown and it made his small smile reappear. He hugged their waist before they could get too far and deepened the kiss, not letting them go until a delighted screech reached their ears.

By the time they turned around, Asmodeus had already taken a picture.

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Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @craftysclown   @mehkers

[bunniekittiee]

how about for Bi-Han. He gifts his new bride a super fluffy and warm coat. I think this can be so sweet because not only he is doing to make sure she is warm and comfortable in his home in Artika, but also because that way they can take walks or sit in the gardens together to be cute and lovey.

Oh my goodness anon, you are fr a genius! I love this suggestion, I tried to make this as sweet as possible.

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader

Bi-Han was very used to the icy tundra he called home. His father made him train in the cold at a young age so his body could adjust to it. Now, the cold did not ache his bones or hurt his skin. He was used to it, and he did not realize at first that Y/N, his new bride, were not adjusted. Bi-Han had to marry her, in exchange for power over the clan she came from, in order to produce an heir one day. His clansmen continued to pester him about marrying, so he did in order to get them off his back. He was standoffish. He knew they both were tied together for the rest of their lives, but it was only for power. There was no love in between them. Or, at least, that is what Bi-Han tried to convince himself of.

Her loving gaze penetrated his encased heart, and he could not resist the looks she would give him. It was as if she loved him very much, but Bi-Han knew the whole point of their marriage was to get his clansmen to shut their mouths. At least on his part, that was.

That is what Bi-Han tried to convince himself of. But many aspects of this changed when she snuggled towards him during the nights, or how she would take his hand to ground himself back into the world. Bi-Han saw how she treated his brothers and it warmed his heart. He saw how much she and Kuai Liang were alike with their sweet nature and attitude. Or how her and Tomas still had a childish tinge to them when they went out together while Bi-Han was working.

Oh, he tried to convince himself it was nothing more. That he was just feeling lonely. That she was just his wife by marriage, and nothing more.

That was, until it was Bi-Han’s birthday. The Lin Kuei were never ones to celebrate birthdays. In fact, it was frowned upon. Foolish. So Bi-Han had never celebrated his birthday, nor his brothers. He treated it like a normal day.

But she, she did not. She remembered. Bi-Han hardly recalled even telling her his birthday. But when he came home that night, she had helped prepare his birthday dinner. She had ordered the cooks to make Bi-Han a dinner feast for his birthday of what meals he had as favorites. He was taken aback, maybe even a little proud of the fact that she remembered. He was never expecting this or even the phrase to slip past her lips, but her ‘happy birthday’ rang in his ears while she and his brothers sang to him quietly.

This solidified something in Bi-Han. That he, the Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster, had fallen in love with this foolish girl. But she was his foolish girl.

No details ever got past Bi-Han. He studied her like a cat and its prey. Noticing how she avoided going outside, Bi-Han analyzed her. Her shivers, the way she rubbed her skin to create warmth, how she curled into piles of blankets, how when Kuai Liang was in the room, she seemed to stop these behaviors and embrace his warmth.

It all became clear to him that he was blind. She was not adjusted to the cold like he was. She never had to sit out there in the cold like his father made him or train in freezing temperatures. She was delicate, untouched by such hardships in that nature. He never noticed this before and he internally fought with himself. Why would he be so blind to this?

He wanted to do something, he wanted to help her with the cold. So he decided for a few hours, he would put his duties to the side and visit someone in the village. But, he could not go alone. So he took his brothers.

“My, brother! For someone who was so adamant that he did not romantically love his wife, you are certainly proving yourself wrong.” Kuai Liang said with humor laced in his tone.

“Silence.” Bi-Han grumbled as they walked through the village. “I do not want to see her cold and suffering.”

Tomas could not help but smile under his mask. Bi-Han was learning how to live with and love another person. In his own ways. It made him happy to see his brother learning something new that he hardly had any experience in. The positive aspect was that he was learning.

They arrived at the seamstress where they had their own uniforms tailored and fixed. The Lin Kuei did not necessarily have a tailor as they could not train one themselves. Many were old, the Arctika would eat away at their bones. And most did not want to live in there, they had their own families to go home to.

“My lovelies.” cooed a gentle voice. She was an older woman, one that Bi-Han remembers his father coming to when he was a young boy. “What brings you in here today?”

Kuai Liang and Tomas said their greetings and stepped back to let Bi-Han take the stage. “Good afternoon. My wife needs a winter coat. A really warm one, for that matter.” He said stiffly. He was never the best at interacting with outsiders.

She hummed as she searched her drawers. “I believe I have her measurements in here somewhere. I am surprised the Grandmaster himself came to ask me. I thought you would send a solider.”

He scoffed. “They are incompetent. It is better if I make the important errands.”

Finding what she needed, she brought out Y/N’s measurements. “Winter coat you say? Extra fur lining in the sleeves and the bodice?”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps extra fur in every part of it.” She said as she began to draw out what she was going to make. “What colors?”

“Blue and black.”

She chuckled. “Even your wife cannot escape the Lin Kuei colors.” The seamstress focused on her quick drawing as Kuai Liang and Tomas waited patiently. Bi-Han watched like a hawk as her hand moved diligently across the paper. “Grandmaster, this is what the end piece will look like.”

Showing him, he looked at it more and nodded. “Yes, that is what I want.”

Nodding her head back, she set it down onto her table. “It will be a little expensive, Grandmaster.”

He internally rolled his eyes. “Nothing I cannot afford. I will pay now. I need this coat as soon as possible.”

Paying her and saying their goodbyes, their quick trip had only lasted forty minutes. Although Bi-Han could have been working in those forty minutes, he was glad that he did this instead. He was looking forward to his wife’s reaction to her coat. Once reaching their home, the brothers went their separate ways to tend to their orders.

Two days later, Bi-Han and his brothers made their way back to the village to retrieve the coat. She was a fast working seamstress, and Bi-Han was relieved she finished it so soon.

“This is the final product.” She said as she held the coat up. “Are there any additions you want to add to this piece?”

Bi-Han shook his head. Her work was beautiful. The coat itself was a dark, rich blue. Matching his own uniform. The black accented it. The fur looked so soft to touch. Tomas almost wanted one for himself.

She wrapped it in parchment paper and put it into a box, sending them on their back, smiling at the love-stricken Bi-Han. He debated on when he should give it to her.

“Brother, if i may say,” Tomas said as they walked back. Bi-Han murmured a ‘yes’ in response. “I believe you should take the rest of the day off. Spend time with her since she will be able to go outside without feeling freezing.”

Bi-Han sharply sighed. “I cannot take the entire day to spend it with her. I am busy with my duties, as you are too.”

Kuai Liang shook his head. “Brother, we will take over your duties. It is not like you do this everyday.”

“I can spend another day with her.”

“But brother, you have hardly spent time with her since you married. You are in love with her no matter how much you say you are not.”

He felt his chest tighten at Kuai’s words. Was it so obvious? As much as Bi-Han knew he had to work, he could hardly get her out of his mind. To see her reaction to her new coat, to hold her, to touch her, to spend time with her. It was an internal debate.

“Brother?” Tomas asked a little worriedly.

Bi-Han sighed again. “Fine, I will spend the day with her. But I cannot do this often.” They smiled, grateful that their brother was finally learning to make time. Even though he only did it because they put pressure on him. It was a step into the right direction.

Arriving back at home, the brothers went their separate ways once more. Bi-Han trudged to his home, a little eager to give his wife her present. He had never felt this way before. He felt almost stupid.

She sat in one of the chairs in the entertainment room as she read a book quietly. Her hair had fallen into her face a little bit, and it squeezed Bi-Han’s heart. She was beautiful.

“My love,” he said to her, these words feeling foreign in his mouth. She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. “Yes, Grandmaster?”

He walked closer to her and held out the box. “This is for you.”

She took the box from his hands gently and looked a little confused. Bi-Han felt himself have a twinge of nervousness licking away at the pit of his stomach. Untying the ribbons, she slid the top of the box off and took out the coat, unwrapping the parchment paper as well. Her eyes widened at the thick, fluffy coat that was sitting on her lap. “Bi-Han…”

“I noticed how cold you have been. I am sorry for not paying attention sooner.” He said, feeling a little ashamed that his wife had to go this long without feeling warm.

“Bi-Han, it is gorgeous.” She said breathlessly as she held it up. “Thank you so much, Bi-Han. This is… really special.” She stood up and slipped the coat onto her body. Bi-Han’s heart began to race as his eyes scanned over her body. The coat fit her snuggly and she looked stunning.

“You are beautiful.” He rasped.

She blushed. “Thank you, my beloved.”

He felt himself start to blush at her sweet nicknames but fought it back. “Take a walk with me?”

Quickly walking to his side, they both began to take a stroll into the garden. Although they were surrounded by snow and ice, the flowers were ever so vibrant. Their beauty did not falter in the cold temperatures, just like Bi-Han’s flower did neither. She looked so pretty in the snow and in her coat, he felt himself start to think about a million things all at once. That was unlike the Grandmaster. The stoic, hardened heart Grandmaster was now thinking about romantic gestures and how to express it to his wife.

He grasped her hand into his when he knew they were not around his soldiers. She held his back, smiling at him shyly. He felt a small smile rise to his lips. She made him feel so loving and warm. But it was sickening. He was never used to this.

“Your coat suits you.” He said as they sat down on a bench together in the garden.

“Thank you, Bi-Han. It means a lot to me. It is really warm.” She said while snuggling into it. He wished she would snuggle into him.

They sat in silence as they admired the bright colors of the flowers against the white snow. She broke their silence. “I know that our marriage was more so a deal, but I cannot help but love you, Bi-Han.”

His chest tightened once more. “I cannot help but love you as well.”

She smiled at him. “I am happy to hear that, my beloved.”

Bi-Han had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. His brown eyes averted from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. The only time they had really kissed was on their wedding day, but he never thought he would crave her kisses. Caressing her face, he pulled her in for a gentle kiss.

A little surprised, she kissed him back. All that surrounded them were the beautiful flowers and silence. When they pulled away, Bi-Han rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you, my dearest.”

“I love you more, Bi-Han.”

Embracing her, he pulled her closer to his body as they looked back at the flowers. He was a little stiff due to how new it was to him, but he felt himself start to relax. She rested her head on his chest, sighing in peace.

Bi-Han had never thought he could love another person romantically with his lifestyle. He always thought that he could not bring love into his life, yet here he was. He adored his wife, feeling tenderness for her as their time together increased. His frozen heart began to thaw out. Kuai Liang and Tomas noticed his new behavior and how his moods were starting to change. He made more time throughout the week to spend time with his loveliness. Whether it was for an hour or a few minutes, his brothers saw how much she could change his mood and his behavior. He wasn’t softening up, but he was a little less aggressive.

Bi-Han always made sure to take walks with her or sit in their gardens. Their time together was precious, and as much as he wanted to spend every moment with her, he knew with his duties he could not. So this would have to suffice. And she still wore that coat he gifted her at every walk they would take. It made him proud. Proud to know that he was loved and cared for by someone other than his brothers, and who he felt the same for.

The Grandmaster was never one for love, but he now understood how important it was to have it in life. It was an intimate ordeal. Something that could never be replicated over and over.

[silverflqmes]

Okay hear me out, may I request Cloud x reader fluff where we spend lovely spring morning together? Nothing nsfw just pure comfort, our cat laying in bed with us, laziness at it finest.

Off the topic I really adore your work! I'm quite new to ffvii, basically I've just started playing, but your work made me fall head over heels for Cloud haha. Anyway have a good day!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐖.

notes. hello! thank you so much for the request and the kind words akajsks i’m still fairly new to ff7 myself, but i’m glad to have amplified your love for it and cloud<3 the cat saga continues✨ i did something experimental here so it’s a little shorter, but i hope it’s okay :’)

genre. fluff + comfort

disclaimer. before any confusion arises.. sora is the name of your cat, who was first mentioned in this post if you are eager to see more of her!

cloud strife x gn!reader.

sora’s purring joins the gentle whistle sung by the breeze that swept through the bedroom window, chiffon curtains dancing to the soft tune like delicate petals.

cloud couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a taste of spring weather — of bitter cold melting into tender warmth.

the change of seasons was hardly ever noticeable without trees to flourish the busy streets with life, lakes to freeze over at the gradual drop of temperature, and flowers to splash the otherwise monochrome edge with color in the spring.

perhaps, it made the planet worth saving after all. to have been rewarded for his efforts at the very end with the beauty of the world, along with his beloved partner.. and a feline friend.

your chest rose and fell with breath, quietly, but surely, eyes fluttered shut. an unspoken trust, which your boyfriend treasured more than he could verbally express.

it was too early to even be up right now for most people.. but cloud, unfortunately, had to represent his little company as its only delivery guy and employee within the next two hours.

he fought back an annoyed sigh at the mental reminder of it.. only to remember that you had still been fast asleep.

any indicative sound that threatened to portray his irritation and spill from his lips all but melted away, falling completely silent on his tongue. because how could he possibly ruin the serene image of you all bundled up and cozy.

the exasperated exhale died all together in the stream of his windpipe as his features relaxed once more in repose.

normally he preferred taking up long distant deliveries by himself, but on this particular occasion, the client happened to live in your seaside hometown — costa del sol. a place that was untouched by the unpleasant smog of edge, and instead painted in a kaleidoscope of vibrant coats.. rather than a trillion shades of gray.

a shift in movement made his mako tinted sapphires flash just briefly before sliding to your stirring form.

his ears caught a jumbled, almost incoherent murmur ( were it not for his amplified hearing ) and cloud wondered to himself for a moment what dreams had joined you in your slumber. something lovely, he hoped, a gentle caress to your conscience.. and not the nightmares that haunted him until dawn on some evenings.

moonless nights when cloud thought too hard for comfort, let alone decent rest.

although, those had been few now. infrequent, thankfully, all because of your solace-filled presence — pressed into his chest.. and the light nuzzling of your calico kitty tucked into his side.

a silent, meow-less request for breakfast.. or maybe not. maybe it was just to ask cloud to stay a little while longer, and enjoy that which he could not back in edge.

waking up to unsullied air- a mixture of floral aromas and the soft, but welcome dripping of morning dew traveling from petal to petal, was.. sadly a rarity, the former infantryman realized.

which is why he found himself sinking into the pillows and duvets in submission, allowing darkness to greet his eyes for another round of sleep. two hours were more than enough to get dressed and to his destination. so truly, all he needed was thirty minutes to be dressed and out of your childhood home.

the hour and a half remaining could blissfully go to cuddling you a little while longer, all else drowning into background noise as he would slip further and further, deeper and deeper. surrendering himself completely to your warm company, the serendipitous quiet, and spring morn.

notes. okay this is way shorter than what i normally write, but i hope it’s still good😭 not much dialogue, just cloud being soft and at ease for a change ahaha

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[bonefall]

Question: Since the mutation that makes sphynx cats nakey (their hair is fragile and sucks) can just happen at random. How would a Clan treat a nakey cat born among them? Could they make them a coat?

I think, at first, there would be concern that it's some kind of sign. Hairlessness looks like mange, a very serious and contagious condition. This could be a terrible omen-- that mange will be brought down to us.

But it would become apparent the kitten isn't a fader, it isn't a StarClan warrior who came down to deliver the others, or a mere sign. It's pink and wrinkled, like a newborn rodent, but moves as the other kits do. Did StarClan... forget its fur?

There's another feared creature without any fur-- humans. It looks human.

I think the poor thing would have a lot of problems with the other cats its age and maybe the more superstitious members of the Clan, but a warrior of the Clan is a warrior of the Clan. Life would be harder for them, but there would still be love that exists.

They'd be capable of making them a coat, and they WOULD need it, but I can see that cat trying to go without it for fear of being made fun of. That's another thing humans do-- wear pelts all over themselves because they have no fur of their own.

Unfortunately they'd also be prone to a ton of really bad health problems. This poor guy would be in the Cleric's den a lot, and may need to retire early or focus on campbound activities.

Health problems;

Pelt is a LOT weaker; injuries from battle or even training would be a lot more severe, Cleric may recommend them not taking part in fights.

Skin becomes filthy, and needs special cleaning. There is no fur to absorb the oil that the skin naturally makes to keep the coat healthy, causing buildup.

Even with proper cleaning, the skin is super prone to rashes, lesions, and constant irritation. Wash TOO MUCH and the skin will become dry and chapped.

SUNBURN. Especially in WindClan, where the warrior might spend a lot of time on the open moor in daylight, and RiverClan, where light reflecting off the water could cause an intense burn. It would be recommended the warrior take night shifts, but this could be an issue because night is cold. (BB!Cats are crepuscular).

Additionally; such severe, uniquely-placed sunburns are something Clerics wouldn't see very often. Lack of medical experience with these sorts of injuries could prove dangerous.

Ear infections. Cats naturally have hair in their ears, which their earwax production accounts for.

Both heatstroke AND frostbite. Very bad temperature regulation leading to severe ailments. Fur helps stabilize body temperature.

So in conclusion...

Life would be very difficult for this individual. Fur isn't just full-body hair; it's almost as fundamental as a top layer of skin. This would be a serious disability for a Clan cat to have, and it may invoke the image of detested humans leading to social stigmatization.

But because they're clanborn, they are unambiguously a member of the Clan. It's likely that the Clan would make clothing for this warrior out of fur pelts, but in their struggle with internalized ableism, they might have conflicted feelings about wearing it.

The Cleric would recommend campbound activities, night shifts, and WEARING YOUR PELT, DAMN IT. They would need to take full baths every few days, not too much and not too little, plus frequent ear cleanings.

[takami-takami]

Roost and Repair.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. comfort.

warnings— anxiety (could be from anything). keigo taking care of you.

If someone were to ask you what your plans are this Saturday afternoon, you'd internally answer, "rotting away, probably."

Externally, you'd say, "not much, how about you?"

It's a sickening twist of the tongue to utter such falsities; you never did enjoy burying the truth. But you'll be damned if you let the tides of others' perceptions and social regulations singe your exposed nerve endings; like cheap wiring, frayed and alight with the most unpleasant sparks at the utterance of a word or glance your way.

It's a lot easier to simply shut and latch all three locks on your bedroom door instead, to cover your body with the heaviest comforter you can find in order to insulate your raw wiring in at least some capacity.

It's fucking June. You can see the waves of heat eminating from the light of the sun through your open window, hot rays fractured through the glass; yet here you are, bundled up like it's the peak of December.

You would be sweating from the adrenaline regardless, you remind yourself.

You swear to God, if a single soul decides to lift a knuckle against your door, you'd lose what little grasp you have on—

Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap, goes the glass of your window; and it sounds like a lifeline, instead.

Cloaking yourself in your quilt, your bare feet hop off the matress and meet the carpet. You drag the hem of the blanket behind you along the floor as you make your way to unlatch the lock.

"Heyo," Keigo sings, clutching the pane above his head with both hands and swooping in feet first. He lands in your room like he just finished a somersault. Waltzing inside, he pops the joints of his neck as he stretches like a cat.

"Got off patrol early on a Saturday, can you believe it? Flew straight over to see my favorite— oh."

He blinks at you, studying the stiff way you tremble as you look at him; like a sad, wet dog.

"Baby. It's burning up outside," he reminds you, tone taking a stark shift. "Are you sick? You don't look so good."

Gloved palms tap up your arms while he looks you over, removing one glove so he can place the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature.

You snort. "Not sick, Kei."

His eyes trail down. Your thumbs are working themselves into a frenzy against your cuticles.

Realization falls over Keigo's face and he mouths a silent oh. His right hand darts down to his coat pocket, pulling out some fidget toys and placing them with reverence in your palm. He closes your hands around it.

"Thank you, Kei," you squeak out, twisting the plastic this and that way, wringing your irritability dry against the faux little outlet instead.

"I gotcha, sweetpea," he says. Two palms, one gloved and one bare, reach out before him to make grabby hands in a silent request; and just as his feathers twitch with hope, you spring forward into Keigo's arms, wrapping your legs snug across the small of his back.

He coos, nuzzling against your neck while he walks you back to bed. Three feathers dart their way past while he walks. One retrieves two bottles of water from the kitchen, another turning on the AC. The third feather pauses in your bedroom, taking care in its selection of the perfect plushie for you to hold on to.

"Don't gotta put up a front around me. I can see right through you," Keigo teases, pulling his head back to poke once at your nose.

You scrunch it in mock offense, sending a jolt right through his beating heart.

"I know I don't," you assert.

"And I know you won't," he answers.

A pause drapes over the room as you reach your bed.

"Anything you need from me, dove," he asks, not bothering to pry your body from his when he sits down.

"Mm. Just you being here s'good... It's awful today, Kei," you explain easily, letting your shoulders down.

Keigo hums. It's a low, empathetic sound that drums against your ears and rumbles within the cavity of your chest. You can practically feel it insulating the exposed wires, can feel his voice soothing the ache with its warm timbre.

Keigo, more than anyone else, knows you don't want to be percieved. You want to be seen.

With a single kiss atop the crown of your head, he sighs in contentment.

He'll always be grateful for the opportunity to protect you.

[softagenda]

ensared (ais)

ais x reader(f)

aphrodisiac au / short fic

series: sweet poison (scenario-based collection of character imagines)

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Prologue

You’re an idiot for drinking that. An absolute idiot.

You’re spilled across the floor, head swimming, burning from the inside as though you’d swallowed a star. The velvet rug brushed soft and cloying against your prickling skin as you squirmed, your heart pounding in your ears and beating an insistent rhythm in your groin.

Cooing at you from the table, her cat’s eyes curled in satisfaction, Morgana asked, “Something the matter? You look positively feverish.” She twirled a curly black lock around her finger.

Bitch. 

Paintings of naked people - bathing in springs, dancing around a fire, having an orgy in front of a temple - swirled into one colorful blob as you turned on your side, fisting the rug. You attempted to pull yourself to where you remembered the door but stalled a couple inches in, weak as a newborn kitten and stifling a moan as your body rubbed on the carpet.

“Now, now, where’s the fire? Stay a while.” She rose from her chair and stood over you, her arms crossing under her full chest. “You’re clearly hot under the collar. The thought of you wandering the streets like this concerns me deeply.”

You glared up at her, using every ounce of willpower not to writhe on the floor like a worm on a hook. Your hand felt clumsily around your hip for the dagger. 

“I’ll take that,” she chirped, snatching the weapon from your belt and tossing it behind her. “Can’t have you nicking that lovely skin.” Her heel braced on the other side of you, straddling your back. Her hands tugged the shirt from your waist before dragging warm palms up your back, her nails scratching on the return journey.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan rocketing through your chest, as every nerve in your body vibrated with electric pleasure. Your hips pressed hard into the floor, growing ever desperate for friction even as you struggled to focus.

Morgana sunk her hand into your nape, drawing your hair back from your face. When she leaned down to brush her painted lips against your ear, goosebumps erupted down your neck. “We’ll start with the bandages, shall we?”

______ prologue end _________

“Wouldn’t recommend it,” mused a deep, familiar voice from the door.

Your head jerked up, hazy eyes finding a blob of teal and black, bright spots of red around the collar. The relief was short-lived when your body reacted in a purely physical way to the sound.

Morgana froze. Her grip tightened in your hair, drawing a shudder. “... Ais. What a surprise. How long has it been, ten years?”

“Don’t remember.”

The madam paused, and a short, pregnant silence followed. You swallowed, breathing shallowly to keep from inhaling anymore of that incense. Then, she demurred, “I have just the treat for you. Something strange but familiar: red head, as bratty and slutty as they come, just how you like it. Let me call an attendant to show you the way.”

“If you’re offering, how about that one under you?”

Nails bit into your skin. “This one’s off the menu.”

“Oh? Had that meal last night, and I’m in the mood for leftovers.”

If the sun weren’t trying to sweat its way out of your skin in that moment, you would’ve glared daggers at him. 

Morgana was silent as she digested that before asking, her voice smooth, “Perhaps another night? I’ll make it worth your while - a veritable banquet of beauties.”

A low hum rumbled through the room. “A banquet for little ol’ me? How generous. In that case…” His voice lowered, musing casually, “suppose I’ll have to bring a couple friends with me. Make it a real feast.”

The temperature dropped.

Morgana breathed once, deep and hurried at the nape of your neck, before releasing your hair and rising to her feet. When she next spoke, all the warmth and gracious hospitality had vanished from her voice. “Take her and get out.”

Leather boots thudded closer, pausing at the table. A soft chink, an audible gulp. “Spared no expense on the dose, huh.”

Morgana didn’t reply.

Then Ais crouched by your face, his chin nestled in his palm. “Lookin’ grounded, sparrow.”

You pressed your lips together, humiliated and so horny you’d probably jump in the Seaspring just to put out the fire in your veins. 

“Want a lift?”

With a nod, you found yourself swept onto his back. Your arms wrapped loosely around his neck as his hands hooked beneath your thighs. Brimstone and brine filled your lungs as your face dropped onto his shoulder. The display of strength, the ease of it, sent a shiver down your back and a slick feeling pooling in your groin.

He strode from the room and headed down the hall. There was a staircase leading to the street, and every step had you bouncing against his back, the friction just enough to have arousal twisting sweetly in your body but not enough for true relief.

Your hand gripped the front of his kimono.

“Havin’ a good time back there?”

“Shut up,” you hissed through gritted teeth only to whimper when he jumped you higher on his back, your thighs squeezing instinctively. “Ah - fuck you.”

“Say please.”

________________________________________________

a/n: thanks for reading!

[sonicasura]

Oni!Kafka

A thought for a different idea that quickly became its own thing. Thus this very page as I rather keep stuff like this separate. Other species swaps might also get their own info posts. Let's get started.

All it takes is a gift bottle of mysterious booze on a 30th birthday party to turn Kafka Hibino's life upside down. In a world dealing with kaiju, discoveries like magic being real are still plausible. Or in this case: curses.

Thanks to cursed liquor, Kafka has become a Liquor Devil that rightfully earned the title of Oni for how disastrous his first night was. A 10 ft aqua blue scaled beast with chimeric traits like long teal curved back horns, caracal ears, long tongue with harmless(to humans) cat papillae, sharp clawed fingers, teal hoofed tiger legs, black bat wings, teal lancehead viper for a tail and finally thick obsidian fur covering his lower legs/upper back/wrists/chest. (He still retains the dad bod but has extra muscle.)

Oni!Kafka is venomous with two types of poisons he can wield. The one in his claws act akin to Cane Toad venom which causes hallucinations and an almost drunken state within victims. It's the tail that needs to be avoided as the fangs of the snake hold Golden Lancehead Viper venom.

Oni!Kafka runs pretty hot in temperature so it isn't uncommon for cold blooded animals or those seeking worth to flock to him seeking warmth. Well his tail does need a warmer since it's the only part that's cold blooded. Otherwise he's warm blooded in nature.

When it comes to Oni!Kafka, you can say the himbo's manchild nature has ramped up. It's very easy to grab his attention. Anything that interests the human side like food, drinks, playthings, etc will work very well on the devil half.

What really gets Oni!Kafka's attention is anything with nostalgic value. Even if it's an old childhood friend that he lost contact with. Best be careful as the Liquor Devil will kidnap or steal his current interest(much to the human half's embarrassment.) *looks at KafMina enthusiasts specifically*

Oni!Kafka loves to play with willing playmates. He usually chooses child games like tag as not everyone is super strong like him. If they are then roughhousing will be something the devil will request instead.

Despite being venomous and intimidating, Oni!Kafka is quite friendly in nature. Best not to interrupt his games or cheat at them. That's one of the few fastest ways to garner the demon's fury other than harming his treasure and stealing from him.

Kafka's tail has a mind of its own, usually responding to the name Hissy. This serpent is a tsundere that doesn't let just anyone touch it nor easily show they like pride and affection. The viper won't bite a nonthreat but will head bump or slap them instead.

Anything Kafka likes is added to his 'hoard'. It doesn't matter whether it's objects or people as all of it are considered treasure to him. Both forms are possessive with the devil side being the most.

Kafka has to drink a special elixir on a bi-weekly basis in order to live a normal life. There are times where he's required to transform and thus kept busy by his companions. Also he has to be very careful around alcohol.

Due to being a Liquor Devil, a certain amount of booze will trigger his transformation into Oni!Kafka. It takes severe exhaustion or another elixir for him to revert back to human form. He suffers a major hangover afterwards as transforming can be compared to being heavily intoxicated.

Oni!Kafka sheds on a daily basis but does molt three times a year. If it's the latter case then he's stuck like that until the process is over. The devil is extra moody and irritable during this period so ice cream, movies, or light alcoholic drinks help keep him content.

Oni!Kafka's wings are a bit ticklish thus it's quite easy to get the fella laughing hard. Absolutely loves himself some chin and behind the ear scratches. Guaranteed to get the big guy purring very loudly within seconds.

The Monster Sweepers had some difficulty dealing with Oni!Kafka on the first. Partly because they were freaking out especially Toku as he gave his friend the bottle in the first place. It was a huge relief to know their coworker is still the same albeit more childish.

The apartment got wrecked because Oni!Kafka wanted to play tag and the place was obviously too small. Board games were too boring while his fingers weren't suited for normal video game controllers. It took a few hours of insane tag to exhaust the demon.

Finding the recipe needed for the special elixir obviously took time. Medicine to help with hangovers did suppress some of Kafka's demon side leaving him in a half state. It took going to an occult store to find a few ingredients for their concoction.

On some occasions, Kafka will become his demon form if hungry enough. He has a preference for meat and often hunts kaiju to satisfy his hunger. The man requires enough food to feed an adult family of five to sustain himself.

Meals heavy in fat and sugar reduces the amount he needs to eat though. Food cooked with alcohol also helps but Kafka has to make sure it's diluted. Signs of a transformation about to occur are the same as someone getting drunk.

Increased talkativeness, boost in confidence, etc. The only inhuman warnings are the appearance of bumps on the forehead/back/tail bone, skin greying, and extra hair. Rice water or foods that help with hangovers can reverse these symptoms if caught quickly.

Only permanent visible change to Kafka's human form is his teeth are now Oni-like fangs. The other alteration involves the man's liver becoming immune to the harmful effects of alcohol. In fact liquor provides extra nutrients and even an adrenaline boost during high stress situations for him instead.

Oni!Kafka is semi-nocturnal so he's prone to sleep during the daytime when there's no work to do. He either sleeps in a loaf like a cat, curled up, or if possible upside down akin to a bat. Only sleeps on his back should a friend/family/mate wants to rest atop of him. He's a cuddler otherwise when sleeping next to someone.

If my brain lets me then expect a drawing of him. Other than the crossover idea, there would most likely be two more ideas with him. Amongst them is one where someone else gets Kaiju No. 8 instead and Kafka is only a devil.

If you are wondering, there isn't a demon based on alcohol sadly. Believe me I checked so Kafka is mostly his own thing with an Oni basis at the core. Want to a crack at your own version then go ahead.

Merely link this page here so everyone else can check it out too!

@noodlesbf-blog @kafkahibinomybeloved @discoknack @mechazushi @giantgoblin @driokrine @iceclew @terra-sketches @renard-dartigue @writeroffanfiction

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🔱 On the Beach Chapter Two

On The Beach: Orm has spent the last year staying with you, Arthur’s best friend. Part of his sentence is to learn about surface dweller culture from a surface dweller, and try to understand that not everyone above the waves is bad. With the year up, and Orm comfortable with a lifestyle that consisted of just you and him, how will he feel when his half brother shows up, and jealousy rears its ugly head? To put it simply, not very well..

Warnings: Language.

To Note: Orm Marius x NAMED!FEMReader, dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Word Count: ~4.7k

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A hand was lightly running up and down your back, stroking your skin and tracing the ridges of your spine as you snoozed. It totally felt like yet another lazy day of sleeping in, soft sheets beneath your body and a warm body wrapped around your side, keeping you at the perfect temperature. You were still locked in a dream that involved a talking cat and some quest to fulfill before ice cream mountain melted.

You guess you had been craving a lot of ice cream lately because all you could think about was Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. That and the Bay Shack fried clams, something about fish and shellfish just sounded really good lately which was odd because you were never a huge seafood fan. Practically a sacrilege in a fishing village but that was just how you felt.

Maybe it was a side effect of spending so much time near Orm, he had finally rubbed off on you.

“Beloved, you need to get up,” Orm’s masculine yet dulcet voice reached your ears shortly before he was pressing his sinful lips against your bare shoulder, his hand slipping from underneath your tank top to brush your hair clear from his path. Groaning out softly as he pressed a trail of kisses across your shoulder and then up your neck, his lips made your skin prickle.

“Don’t wanna,” you moaned out, trying to edge away from his teasing and tickles while burying your face further into your pillow. “I’m too comfortable.”

“You promised you would meet Mrs. Johnston at nine to discuss the tagging station.” Orm reminded you, nuzzling his face further into your neck as his hand carved a path over your side and slipped to where your tank top was bunched up. His fingers caressed your stomach and became very distracting, practically making it nearly impossible to try to fall back asleep.

Groaning in exaggerated misery, you swatted at the teasing hand on your stomach before reaching over and throwing the covers off your legs. Pulling yourself free from Orm’s arms, you sat on the edge of the edge of the bed and ran your fingers through your hair, getting out the knots and snares.

Now slightly more awake, your stomach rolled and twisted just like it did every other day. Wonderful, you would have thought you’d be over this annoying stomach bug by now, it was hard enough to keep it from Orm. You loved him, but you swear he takes overprotective to the next level.

Dropping your hand from your hair, you leaned back to look at Orm who was still lounging on his side, although he now had his head propped up as he gazed at you. How could one person look so hot just lying there?

“What is it?” Orm asked, his eyebrow rising elegantly with his question. Letting out a small huff, you leaned back and ran your fingers down the side of his face.

“It’s unfair at how handsome you are,” you told him with a smile. “And I constantly wonder how I ended up yours.”

“Do I need to remind you?” Orm countered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he turned his head and pressed his lips against your fingers. Your face heated up at the memory two months ago. Arguing after Orm got huffy about your friendship with Arthur, then making out in the sand, then Orm feasting like a king, and then…

“No, no, I don’t need to be reminded,” you answered in a strained voice, your face slowly turning red as his smirk grew wider. “I remember quite clearly thank you very much, and now that we’ve cleared that, I need to hop in the shower.”

Pulling your body from the bed, you raised your arms above your head and stretched, enjoying the feeling of stretching your arms and shoulders out. Lowering your arms, you let out a yawn as you headed for the bathroom, oblivious to the fact that you were giving Orm a full view of your cheeky underwear.

Since indicated night of which you will not be speaking of, Orm and you had been sharing your bed. As it turned out, he was a big cuddler and had no issues making that clear to you. You didn’t explicitly say you’re dating, but at this point, you were fairly sure you were more than just dating given the Atlantean culture and views on ‘dating’ in general.

Considering his upbringing, he wasn’t exactly a PDA type of man, but he did like to let others know you were taken, and that meant hand-holding, opening doors for you, maybe a little too much hovering when another man was around you, and the occasional death glare. But when it was just the two of you, he was a hands-on type of man. It was like he was rewarding himself for keeping his hands to himself. You weren’t going to complain, his arms wrapped around your body was literally the best thing you had ever felt.

Stripping out of your tank and underwear, you quickly hopped in the shower and started washing your hair. You were nearly finished rinsing the shampoo from your hair when a wave of nausea hit you. Putting a hand over your mouth, you leaned forwards and pressed your forehead into the cool tile of the shower, counting slowly to ten in your head.

You could not throw up. You would not throw up. You will not throw up.

The wave of nausea passed and you let out a deep breath, glad you didn’t have to scramble for the toilet and have Orm wondering why you were throwing up, and go all Ocean Master on you because it was entirely unacceptable that you were sick and not feeling well. Taking a deep breath, you finished your shower and wrapped yourself up in a towel.

Walking back into the bedroom, you saw Orm propped up against the headboard, book in hand. Smiling at the sight, you turned to the dresser and started riffling through its contents for an outfit to wear. Orm was developing an appreciation for Surface Dweller literature, so you often made trips to the local library to check out several books.

Deciding to go with a navy suit today, you grabbed your white set of lace underwear and bra. Your meetings with Mrs. Johnston about the tagging station up north required you to be dressed more formally, even if it was only going to be a fifteen-minute talk. Doing a quick dry of your body, you tossed the towel onto the bed and shimmied your underwear up your legs before hooking your bra on.

“Don’t forget that you are going fishing with Tom today,” you said as you took out your navy pencil skirt and pulled it up your hips. Orm, who had been quietly watching you get dressed, raised a blond eyebrow.

“You needn’t worry, Beloved, I have not forgotten.” Orm replied with a smile. “Mother is dropping by while we are out, I believe she wants to further bond with you.”

“If you want to call it that,” you huffed with a small laugh before grabbing a white blouse with button on the upper half and shoving your arms through the sleeves. “It’s just female time, nothing too extravagant, we both need to escape the testosterone somehow.”

Orm’s lips twitched but he remained silent as you quickly buttoned the top few buttons, leaving a few undone, and stuffing the ends of the shirt into your skirt. Today was a special kind of day, Orm was going out with Tom, who he had a mutual respect for now, while Atlanna and you would spend a day without men around. Tonight, you were planning on meeting up with Arthur and Mera to eat at a restaurant.

Now that things were calming down, Arthur and Orm were trying to make things work between them, and they both made sure to visit their mother every few months. You were looking forward to hearing more stories about Atlantis from Atlanna, and Orm was looking forward to getting out on the water.

It was a win-win scenario.

Grabbing your matching navy blazer, you folded it across your arm before dipping your feet into your plain black heels and walking over to where Orm lounged.

“I won’t be long, I think we still have leftover pancakes in the fridge if you’re interested in those for breakfast.” you told him with a smile before leaning over and kissing him. “I’ve got my cell on me, you need anything just give me a ring.”

“Only if you promise to be safe,” Orm countered, just like he always did when you left the house.

“I’m always careful,”

“We will agree to disagree on that statement then,” Orm huffed as you drew back. “Stubborn woman,”

“Mmh, your stubborn woman, may I remind you.” you grinned back as you shifted the blazer over your arm. That brought a smile to his lips. He always liked it when you reminded him that you were his, and his alone. With a smile on your lips, you headed out to take care of the one piece of business you had today.

Driving back from Perry, the town where the tagging station was located, you were glad to have a moment of peace in terms of your nausea. It was becoming clear that you weren’t going to be able to hide this from Orm much longer; he wasn’t an idiot. Your only option at this point was to talk to Atlanna and hopefully gain some motherly insight on what you should do, especially considering how protective Orm is.

She was used to dealing with stubborn, obstinate Atlantean men; if anyone could help you out, it was her. Turning into Amnesty Bay, you drove through the town as you wound your way back up to your house. Parking your car out front of your house, you pulled the keys from the ignition before sliding out of your seat.

Closing the car door, you made your way up the paved path to your front door; by now Tom and Orm would be out fishing, and Atlanna would be reading in your living room. Just as expected, Atlanna was sitting on your couch reading one of the Lord of the Rings books.

“Good morning,” you greeted with a big smile as you set your purse and keys down on a side table. Atlanna looked up from the book with a big smile.

“Eva, it is good to see you again! I have missed your company.” Letting out a small laugh, you saw down in your armchair.

“I think I’ve missed being around females in general,” you chuckled back before running a hand through your hair. “Atlanna… can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, you can talk to me about anything… is everything alright with Orm?” Atlanna asked, her eyes scanning you. “You look fatigued, are you feeling unwell?”

“Kind of, I wanted to ask what is the best way to break it Orm that I’m not feeling well without him going all Ocean Master on me and refusing to let me leave the house until I’m feeling better,” you explained as you twisted your fingers together.

“Darling, Orm is going to be protective no matter how you break the news to him,” Atlanna told you, which made you let out a small groan. “You aren’t sick with something serious though, are you?”

You shrugged in response.

“You— I don’t really know what’s going on with me, yeah I’ve been dealing with some sort of stomach bug, but that’s not all that’s bothering me,” you admitted, chewing on your lip. “I mean does living with an Atlantean affect a surface dweller? Because I’ve been craving a lot of fish lately, and I used to hate it… and I’ve discovered I like swimming and can hold my breath a lot longer than I used to. It’s all so confusing, the water around here isn’t warm enough for someone like me to tolerate swimming around, I’d get hypothermia.”

Your fingers wrung together as you shook your head.

“I feel like I’m going crazy, and every day that goes by where I’m hiding it from Orm makes me feel like I’m betraying him.” Atlanna reached over and took one of your hands, unweaving your jumble of fingers.

“Deep breaths, Eva,” Atlanna said softly as she gently squeezed your hands. That’s when you realized you had worked yourself up in a matter of seconds. Nodding your head, you took a few slow breaths.

“Sorry, I just— I really want Orm to know that he can depend on me to always be honest with him and that I will never keep secrets from him, but I don’t want him worrying.”

“This isn’t anything to worry about, Eva,” Atlanna reassured you gently; your eyebrow rose up.

“You know what this is? Is it Atlantean related? Is it temporary?” you questioned in rapid succession. She chuckled at you before brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Oh your condition isn’t anything to worry about, Eva, quite the opposite, and it would explain why you are craving fish, and are adapting to the water,” she said with a warm smile.

“What is it then?” you questioned, your eyes searching hers. “Did I get some weird Atlantean cooties from Orm or something?”

“If you want to call a child cooties, then yes,” Atlanna replied with a light chuckle.

“Wait what?” you questioned, your brain thinking you had misheard her. Her smile grew and she took your hand with both of hers.

“You are pregnant, Eva, not sick, it isn’t anything to worry about.” That one word echoed in your mind, and a second later your face turning bright read. It was official, Atlanna knew you had slept with her son.

“I— but— how—“ you were floundering for words while your cheeks burned with heat and the Atlantean queen chuckled, patting the back of your hand.

“We are compatible, Arthur is proof of that.”

“I know but are you sure? How is it that I am gaining Atlantean abilities? I— I am one hundred percent surface dweller.”

“But the child you carry is not, and you two are connected.” You were shaking your head, your face still burning that brilliant shade and indicating your mortification.

“But we only— Atlanna I can’t be, I— Orm and I are just— oh hell Orm, what is he going to think? Wait, I might not be and maybe this is just some side effect?” You were blurting out every excuse your brain could think of while Atlanna let you deny it to your heart's content. “It was only one time, only one time…”

“There is one way to make sure,” Atlanna reminded you. “That is if you wish.”

You let out a stressed breath, trying to control your emotions and slight shaking. Nausea, vomiting, fatigue, cravings, mood swings, it all made sense, but the logical side of you needed hard proof.

“I guess that means I’ll be running up to the drug store,” you whispered out, your shoulders sinking in defeat.

“Would you like me to go with you?” Atlanna offered; you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be quick,” you told her before getting up. Retrieving your purse and car keys, you headed back out to pick up some pregnancy tests. Your hand was shaking when you tried inserting the key into the ignition, and it took a few tries before you fully got it in and started the car.

The entire drive to the nearest drug store you could feel your heart racing in your chest as the fight or flight mode kicked in. Pregnant. It just wasn’t something you had ever considered, especially considering Orm and you were from two different worlds. Yes, you loved him very much, and he acted like he loved you back, you were sure he loved you back. But throw a baby into that mix and you were in unknown waters.

Five minutes later you were in line to buy three pregnancy tests, maybe one too many, but you had to make sure. If one of them said yes, then you were. Paying for the tests, you scurried back out to your car and headed back to your house, feeling like you were sneaking around Amnesty Bay.

Entering your house, Atlanna and you looked over the three tests, reaching the directions of each of them. It seemed simple enough, pee on the sticks and then wait. With the three sticks clutched in your trembling fingers, you entered your half bath and followed the instructions. When you were done, you headed for the living room, setting them down on the coffee table before taking a seat and staring out the sliding glass doors.

You were afraid of what they would reveal.

Five minutes later you still refused to look at the tests, your hands forming little fists and resting on your knees as you stared vacantly out at the distant surf.

“Would you like me to check them for you?” Atlanna asked; your eyes which were prickling with tears turned her way.

“I don’t think I can stomach looking at them,” you told her quietly. A few moments went by.

“They are all positive,” you closed your eyes and felt a few tears run down your cheeks before you were dropping your head into your hands.

“Oh God, he’s not going to want it and he’s going to be so mad at me,” you moaned, digging your fingernails into your scalp. “What am I going to say to him?”

“Eva, dear,” Atlanna spoke, taking your hands from your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes. “Orm will not be mad, trust me, my son loves you very much, and if anything he will be elated by this news.”

“How do you know that?” She smiled down at you, brushing at your hair.

“Atlantean men do not lay with a woman unless they intend to spend the rest of their lives together.” She explained with a small chuckle. “My son is very much smitten with you Eva, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I still feel like my stomach is going to turn inside out,” you whispered, Atlanna only smiled before pulling you in for a hug.

It was later that night that the four of you, joined by Arthur and Mera, ate at one of the nicer restaurants in Amnesty Bay. Arthur had stared at you in surprise when you had ordered a very seafood-centric plate. You had given him a look and mumbled about Orm rubbing off on you.

From there you steered clear of the wine, and anything that you had learned pregnant women should avoid in the time you had before Tom and Orm had gotten back. Luckily, the conversation turned pleasant and you could relax, just enjoying sitting next to Orm partially in your own little world.

Unfortunately, when it came time for dessert, you had to forgo your favorite triple chocolate cake slice that you pretty much always go when you ate at this restaurant. Both Orm and Arthur had given you weird looks when you had refused dessert.

“Are you sure Eva?” Orm questioned, looking down at you with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. You gave him a smile and nodded.

“I’m full, no need to fill up on cake I don’t need,” you nervously laughed, waving a hand in the air. Orm wasn’t convinced, neither was Arthur, but they didn’t push it. “Enough about me, tell me how Atlantis is doing…”

That got Mera started on some new construction and laws that were taking place, which thankfully took the conversation and attention off you. Slumping back in your seat with a soft sigh, you rested your elbow on the table and dropped your cheek into your hand. Beneath the table, you felt a large warm hand take your free one you had resting on your thigh.

Your fingers curled around Orm’s larger ones as you kept your gaze on Mera talking animatedly about the project she was helping to manage. His thumb was gently stroking the palm of your hand, easing some of the jitters running through your body.

Well, so much for trying to go under the radar; Orm officially knew something was up with you but thank heavens the man wasn’t inclined to ask what it was while you were at dinner. You would have been mortified. Eventually, the meal finished up and the six of you were heading back to your house.

While Tom and Atlanna talked with Orm, Arthur, and Mera in your living room, you got a pot of coffee going. The smell of the coffee was absolutely divine, and yet torturous, caffeine was a no-go, and that meant no coffee for you, which was going to suck majorly. Muttering under your breath about the unfairness of it all, you grabbed a tray and pulled down five coffee cups. The coffee was dribbling away when Atlanna came walking into the kitchen.

“Here, let me take it,” Atlanna said before taking the tray from you. “I’m sure they are already suspicious enough as it is…”

“When do I tell him?” you questioned anxiously, wringing your fingers together before glancing at the kitchen drawer that held the positive tests.

“When you are ready, Eva, if you want to wait until everyone has left and it’s just you two, that is fine. You needn’t stress over it.”

“I—“ you stumbled out that one word before running a hand through your hair and fretting further. “Atlanna, he knows I’m hiding something from him, he knows. We’ve spent enough time around each other to pick up on those types of cues.”

“My son won’t just question you outright in front of the others, Eva, he won’t subject that to you.” Fidgeting where you stood you looked at the kitchen drawer once more. “Eva,” Your eyes flickered back to Atlanna. “No one is going to pressure you into telling, take your time.”

With that, she glided back towards the living room, coffee tray in hand. Biting down on your lips, you skittered over to the kitchen drawer and pulled it open. It was basically a drawer that held random bits and bobs, a few miscellaneous keys, nail clippers, a tape measure, a couple pens, and the positive pregnancy tests.

Just rip it off like a bandaid, Eva, there is plenty of time to wallow in self-misery later at his response.

Picking up the pregnancy tests, you stuffed them into your blazer pocket before heading after Atlanna. Entering the living room, you saw Tom fixing himself and Atlanna their coffee, Arthur drinking his straight black as usual, while trying to convince Mera to try the hot beverage, and Orm standing aloof, scowling at the tray with one remaining cup.

“Do you not want coffee?” you questioned him as you sidled up to him, pressing your sweaty palms into your skirt. “I can get you tea instead if that’s what you want…”

Orm turned his sharp blue eyes to you, and his scowl lightened up. He slipped an arm around your waist and pulled your body against his while looking deep into your eyes.

“Are you feeling unwell tonight?” He questioned vaguely. “You didn’t fix yourself a drink, and you’ve never refused to order your favorite cake…”

His voice was soft as were his questions and for only your ears to pick up on. Letting out a deep sigh, you slumped into his side and rested your head on his shoulder. How could he be so perfectly in tune with you?

“Hey Eva, you feeling okay?” Arthur spoke up, and turning your head to look at him, you saw that he was staring at you with a frown. “You haven’t been acting like yourself at all today; you never skip the wine and cake at The Oyster, and I have never seen you not fix yourself a mug of coffee.”

Your eye twitched in irritation at him for blatantly pointing it out. Orm might be a perfect gentleman, picking up on social cues, but Arthur… not so much. Tom, who probably figured your situation out the moment you refused the wine, sighed and shook his head at his son.

“Perfectly fine thank you very much, Arthur,” you responded crisply, giving him a look; he caught it, and in a couple of seconds, a light bulb went off in his head.

“Ohhhhh,” He dragged out, Mera elbowed him heavily in the side as you turned to look up at Orm.

“Can we talk?” You questioned him before nodding your head at the sliding glass doors. “Privately?”

“Of course, beloved,” Orm responded, his forehead crinkling slightly before he started leading you towards the indicated doors. The further you moved away from the cottage, the more it felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. “Eva, you are practically shaking; whatever it is you are hiding from me, I promise you I won’t be mad.”

“It—“ You started, struggling to find the right words to say. “I don’t know how to tell you, and I’m afraid you will be mad.”

“Eva,” Orm said gently, turning to you and taking your cheeks in his hands. “There is nothing you could say that could make me mad at you, maybe hurt, but not mad.”

You could think of a few things that would make him so hurt he would be mad, but you weren’t going to bring that up. With a slightly shaking hand, you reached into your pocket and withdrew the two tests to bring them in front of you. Then ever so slowly, you turned your eyes down to look at them. Orm’s gaze followed until you were both looking at your trembling hand holding the tests.

Orm released your cheek with one hand and carefully steadied your shaking hand by taking your wrist. The plus sign and the word pregnant steadied and became readable.

“The answer to your question is,” you finally answered. “No, I have not been feeling well.”

The tests were pulled from your hands, and seconds later Orm was kneeling in the sand, his hands on your hips as he pressed his forehead against your still fairly normal stomach. Your hands hovered frozen near his head, not really knowing what to do.

“Orm, please say something.” You whispered, your anxiety at an all-time high.

“You being the mother of my child is the greatest gift you could have given me, Eva,” Orm replied softly, his fingers pulling your body further into his.

“Even if it’s a half breed?”

“It has your blood, Eva, that is more than enough for me.” Letting out a sigh of relief, you slipped your fingers into his hair. “Is this why you have been avoiding your favorite things?”

“Most of my favorite things are not good for a pregnant woman,” you explained while running your fingers through his soft hair. “That includes chocolate, wine, and coffee.”

“You had me worried, Eva,” Orm said giving you another squeeze. “I am relieved to know that you are not ill.”

“Tell that to the morning sickness,” you huffed underneath your breath before finding your feet leaving the sand as Orm stood up, his hands still on your waist. Wobbling around, you clutched at his neck as he started walking you back towards your cottage. “You say you’re the one lucky to have me, but sometimes I feel like I’m the lucky one.”

Orm looked into your eyes with a curve to his lips. You moved your left hand to hold his cheek, your fingers running along his skin.

“I don’t think I say it enough, but I love you,” you told him. “More than anything in the world.”

“I would repeat your words, but I’m afraid there might be something I will love more than you.” Orm returned quietly as he swung you up to cradle your body in his arms. You raised an eyebrow. “Our child, beloved, my love for our child might rival the love I have for you.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

Date Published: 12/20/20

Last Edit: 4/28/24

Previous | Masterlist

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Vampire Draco 2

I can tell that the room they put me in is supposed to be cold. I can tell this, because the little muscles around the woman’s hair follicles are contracting, pushing the tiny hairs on her arms up toward the sky like the stems of a flower desperately seeking out the warmth of the sun.

She’s staring at me and I stare back. She wants to know about me, she’s curious. Like a cat.

She wants to run the length of her body along my leg, sniff at my fingers, and figure out what my intentions are. I want to press my nose again her face, breathe in the scent of her skin.

Her blood.

I want to know what my intentions are, as well.

My skin isn’t reacting to the change in temperature. I don’t get hot. I don’t get cold.

Because I’m dead. The function of my body is still a mystery to me. How does it do anything? Is everything inside of me stagnant? Or is there something bigger at play here?

A young man, around the same age as the girl with the curious eyes and delicious scent, enters the room. He’s got glasses over bright green eyes. He smells like rainfall over the asphalt of a deserted street. It’s pleasant, in the way an afternoon nap is pleasant. Only, I can’t nap.

I don’t sleep.

The man’s eyes are cautiously regarding me, “Draco,” They keep calling me that word. And I can feel the rapid, steady beat of his heart. He’s afraid of me.

My head tilts, my eyes are narrowed in on him as I try to chase down the memory that isn't even there. Because it died, when I did.

“Don’t you remember your name?” Curious brown eyes says to me. She leans forward, pressing her elbows into the table and bright green eyes tenses, uncomfortably. Her heart beat is steady. She isn’t afraid.

But there is something between me and them, some invisible barrier that I can sense. It’s there, like the sound of energy coming off the human body, it’s so faint and you can almost ignore it. But it’s there. Palpable enough to feel agitated by its presence.

I think it's meant to keep me from reaching over and taking her into my custody.

My head shakes in response to her question. I’m still struggling to get words formed, to force the thoughts inside of my head out through my mouth. It feels like trying to lift a limb after it falls asleep for too long. But, there is no tingly sensation in my throat or inside of my head.

“Do you remember who you are?”

My mouth parts and I’m able to push my tongue to the roof of my mouth as my dead, rotting brain wraps itself around the letter n.

No sound comes out.

So, I try again.

Miss curious eyes nods, encouragingly, her lips lifting in that smile.

She is the only person who smiles at me. In this new life, her smile is the only real one I have come across. “Take your time,” her voice is pleasant. It’s just the right pitch.

“N-” I pause and imagine myself taking a deep, stabilizing breath. “N-ooo.”

Mr. Bright eyes’ heart rate is slowing down, but those green eyes are all big and round with wonder. “Fuck me.” He whistles and leans back in his chair. He’s got his stabbing stick in his hand, and he’s tapping it on the table that I am chained to.

I forgot to tell you, they’ve chained me to the table which is bolted to the floor. But it feels flimsy when I wrap my hands around the edge of it.

All of it. Everything, when it's in my grasp, feels flimsy.

“Your name is Draco Malfoy.” I quirk my head, letting my ear absorb the sound of her voice, more accutely.

My name is Draco Malfoy.

“Your parents have been looking for you for over six months.”

That lines up with how long I’ve been alive, dead, whatever.

I have a family.

I stare at her, taking in the little blemish on her cheek. The slight curve to her nose. The shape of her mouth. Her hair is less wavy and more curly, but it’s still somewhere in between. You can’t quite call it either, but you can try.

Her face, though not entirely symmetrical, is…interesting.

Something stirs in my chest that is unfamiliar.

It’s not quite thirst, but it’s the only thing I know. The only thing I know might be real even if I am not.

I can feel the pull of my eyebrows push together. That, too, is unfamiliar.

“Do you have any questions?”

Mr. Bright side is rubbing the tiny coarse hairs along his jaw and looking between me and her. Her and me.

Her.

I nod my head and begin to work on the movement of my mouth and tongue. I work on the movements as the question dances inside of my mind. My lips push together and the tip of my tongue aims for the inside of my bottom row of teeth.

My eyes meet hers. “You.”

Who are you, I want to say. Where did you come from, what do I call you?

Her eyes flick to her partner and she smiles again.

“I am Hermione Granger.” She takes a breath, and I try to remember what it felt like to breathe. To feel the wind slide past my tongue and down my throat. “We used to go to school together.” She gestures to green eyes. “We all did.”

Her name is Hermione Granger.

I smile back.

“Mi-” Her name is difficult to say. “Mine?”

Her scent gets stronger as her cheeks turn a shade of pink and that thing in my chest flutters the same time that thing I know to be thirst burns, renewed in my throat.

I watch her throat bob as she swallows. And I wonder. I wonder.

What does her saliva taste like?

“You used to call me Granger.”

I used to call her Granger. I used to know her.

I think she used to be Mine.

---

Through the big, steel door, I can still hear the voices from the other side. They are not muffled, just distant. Yet, every word is clear. Every inflection in each sentence and the breaking of syllables between two people who are in disagreement.

“We cannot detain him, simply for being turned into a vampire, Harry.” Hermione. Granger says.

Mr. Bright eyes. Harry. Says to her, “He’s a newly turned vampire, and a danger to society.”

I am a vampire.

“Who knows how many people he has killed, already.”

Roughly, 166.

Granger sighs. “We don’t know if he’s hurt anyone at all. He just needs to learn the ropes.”

I have, though I will say that I am quick. I am gentle. I wouldn’t call it humane but, that’s the first word that comes to mind.

He scoffs. “And who is going to teach him. You? Hermione, he’s already looking at you like his next meal.”

My face twitches with the need to frown. I want to taste her, yes. She smells divine. Her neck looks soft and supple. I have these teeth that pierce through skin like a thumbnail pushing into an overripe peach.

But.

She smiled.

“Theo.” She says. The word is like a bell tinkling somewhere in the back of my head. Still. Unattainable.

Distant.

Not real.

There is a weighted pause between the two of them. I can taste the tension that’s drifting, slipping through the cracks in the door. Harry’s heart picked up pace, again. This time, with anger.

Grangers has as well, but in anticipation.

I can sense all of this. All of these emotions. Still, I am unable to replicate them.

“Theo?” The word comes out sharp as a knife. “Are you fucking crazy?” He sighs. “You must be. You must be as crazy as him! Hermione, he is a necromancer!”

In my mind, I am watching them. The door is the screen to the television set and they are in a sitcom, exchanging light hearted banter.

And I practice smiling.

“Well,” she’s wincing and the audience is laughing as she shrugs. “Have you ever dealt with a freshly risen corpse before?”

The audience laughs louder, harder.

My smile is wide, my teeth are bared.

Harry relents, because his costar is cute and charming. And no other options come to mind. So he gives in to her. She probably gets her way a lot.

“Fine.” But there is an unspoken warning in his tone. Nobody knows what it is except her.

“Great.” She sounds relieved, thrilled. “I’ll owl him now.”

I once killed an owl, out of desperation.

Still, I manage to hold my smile and feel the jerk of my abdomen as what I think might be the beginnings of a chuckle penetrates my diaphragm. I can feel it in my throat.

But, it isn’t real.

Granger returns with another man. His hair is brown like chocolate. His eyes are the color of dying leaves. Almost brown, almost green. That perfect moment between summer and autumn. Color is everywhere but its changing from the bright fluorescent hues of life into the earthy rich tones of a long slumber.

He smells like something musky and tart. And cigars.

He smells like death.

Not in the way a corpse smells, but in the way that it smells like finality. It’s strong but it doesn’t linger.

There’s only grief left behind.

Except for when you’re me.

This man moves smoothly, his limbs long and defined. A lock of hair curls over his forehead and I watch it sway as he tilts his head, his eyes piercing mine. His eyes that are more brown than green but not quite either.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” He drawls. “But, I guess I have to.” He looks at Granger, but his gestures toward me, arcing shallowly. “I’m looking right at him.”

Granger’s mouth quirks, like she wants to smile again.

“Draco, my boy.” He grins.

I put my own on and his eyebrows lift, mildly impressed.

“Draco, this is Theo.” Granger slides into her chair again, her hands slid across the table, her back curves in in a stretch. Just like a cat. “You also knew him.”

Mr. Autumn eyes. Theo.

My lips move again. My tongue flicks against the back of my two top teeth. “Thee-oh.”

Theo nods. “Indeed.” He slides into the chair beside Granger, who is smiling at me. Again.

I wish I knew what this feeling is. Maybe it passed over when I died. Maybe it’s something completely new. Maybe my body isn’t as stagnant as I thought. Maybe there’s a garden inside of it, all of the soil from the earth stuffed inside and maybe there are flowers that want to reach up for the sun like the hairs on her arms.

“What do you think?” She turns to look at Theo. “Can you help him?”

He doesn’t answer, immediately. Instead, he watches me. He watches me and glances to Granger. She looks hopeful. Eager.

The entirety of my my short life, death, whatever. No one has looked at me like this.

All of the sitcoms that humans watch have this odd, unattainable element to it. There’s something that drifts in, weaving into every story line. Sometimes, it’s as unattainable as the memories that died when my brain did. Often, the show depends on that element.

People, they cling to it.

I could never practice this with the people I killed. I never even considered it.

But now.

“Yes,” Theo says and both me and Granger look at him. His eyes are crisp like the sting of the cool air in autumn and his mouth lifts into that grin, again. “I can take responsibility for him. I can help him.”