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impala-dreamer · 10 months ago

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Wonderstruck

A Magical Short Story

~ Attending a wedding alone is rarely fun. Add to it a bunch of people you don't know all hidden behind masks, things can get a little shaky. But sometimes, if you're lucky, magic can happen...~

Henry Cavill x F!Reader

3,160 Words

Warnings: Nothing but romance and magic and fluff and mystery!

A/N: Yes, it's me. No, I have not been kidnapped. This was written in part for my personal goal of branching out a bit, but moreover as a Valentine's gift for @mariekoukie6661 and @kittenofdoomage <3

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Her dress was sleek and as dark as midnight; her heels were high and deadly. Her lips dripped with crimson; a silver mask hid beautifully sad and strikingly painted eyes.

She kept to the edges of the ballroom, ducking behind round tables clad in expensive linens and gold inlaid china, skirting billowing gowns as they spun on the dancefloor. She slipped in and out of the shadows with a slowly emptying champagne glass pinched delicately between two fingers.

Despite her annoyance in being there, she could not deny the beauty of the night. The massive room was decorated in glamorous gold and pearl accents. Heavy velvet curtains hung over the windows on each wall, letting in a glimpse of the moonlit garden outside. The floors were marble that had been polished to perfection, and a warm candlelight glow illuminated the room.

It felt as if she’d stepped into a fairy tale.

A fairy tale about a sad girl watching the party from afar, alone but for the bubbles in her glass.

Which, sadly, were now gone.

Y/N sighed heavily and looked across the dancefloor at the long bar that stretched across the back wall of the ballroom. A hundred guests in suits and gowns, feathers and masks, twirled in front of her, blocking the path. Silently, she weighed the pain of entering the waltzing throng over going another moment without a healthy buzz in her head. She took a breath. She took a step.

Her heels clicked rhythmically as she laid her course for the bar. She kept her eyes on the goal, carefully maneuvering through the dancing couples, wondering if they’d all been to some class she hadn’t been invited to. All their steps seemed identical; all the women spun with the same flourish. She shook her head. Life should never be so choreographed.

After nearly tripping over a dragging tail of taffeta, Y/N finally made it to the bar and braced herself on the top. As she caught her breath, a deep but soft laugh hit her ear.

She turned toward the sound and spied a large man leaning on the bar a few feet away. He turned as she did, leaning one elbow on the bartop and kicking a long leg over the other. His tuxedo was immaculate and perfectly tailored; his shoes shined like the stones below. He wore a mask of black with silver adornment, and two crisp blue eyes scanned her form from beneath. She could feel them sneak down her body, lingering a bit in the deep curve of her waist and at the globe of her ass.

She cleared her throat, drawing his eyes up to hers.

“Something funny, Slick?” she asked, lips pursed in clear annoyance.

The man grinned. His lips were full and pink beneath a thin scruff of a beard.

“I liked your dance,” he said in reply.

She was startled by his accent - elegant and somehow too perfectly English, as if he were pretending to be from across the Atlantic. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure him out.

It was nearly impossible. The masks were a problem.

Y/N rolled her eyes. She didn’t know why, but she felt that he needed to work a little harder to get her attention. Maybe she was bored, maybe the shock of his voice had her aflutter. Whatever it was, she turned up the sass.

“Yeah, well, I was a ballerina in a past life.”

Again, he laughed. A little louder, a little more enticing.

“I can see that. Prima ballerinas often trip over themselves and end up slamming into tables.”

She bit back a laugh and turned back to meet his gaze. “We take a special class for that.”

The man cocked his head towards her champagne flute. “And with an empty glass, no less.”

“What can I say, I’m very good at my job.”

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the bar and took a step closer. “May I buy you another?”

Her eyes slid up from his shoes to the loose, curly mop of black hair atop his head. He was tall and broad, and looked as solid as a statue. Her pulse quickened.

“I’m pretty sure it’s free,” she teased.

He stopped a foot from her side. “Still…” With a quick snap of his fingers, he called for the bartender and ordered them both another round.

“A dirty martini, Mr. Bond?” She smiled at his order.

“Shaken, not stirred,” he replied, lifting his glass.

His smile was as intoxicating as the golden liquid in her glass and butterflies swirled in her stomach.

Each took a sip, swallowing slowly with their eyes locked. The blue crashed over her and Y/N lost herself in the sparkle of his smiling gaze.

Worried that she was staring too hard, she tore herself away and let out a hard breath.

“So… how do you know the bride?” she asked, trying to pry his identity free.

He licked a drop of vodka from his lip. “I don’t.”

She laughed gently. “Wedding crasher, huh?” She leaned closer, dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry, I won’t turn you in.”

He moved in even closer. A warm scent pulsed off of him, flooding her senses with leather and vanilla and something she couldn’t place. Something spicy that made her mouth water so much she forgot that she was supposed to be playing hard to get.

“That’s kind of you,” he whispered. “I don’t think Charlie will press charges though.”

She smiled. “Ah, you’re on the groom’s side.”

“And you?”

His eyes fell to her lips and Y/N’s cheeks burned.

“I, uh… I work with Chloe, the- the bride.”

He nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Charlie and Chloe,” he said with a light laugh. “So many Cs.”

He was too cool, too confident yet sweet. She almost hated him.

“Who are you?” she asked, confused and irked. She had not come to the wedding to meet anyone, let alone a gorgeous, blue-eyed Brit, who may or may not actually be British.

Another slow sip guided her eyes back to his lips and she wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled.

“Henry,” he said softly.

She laughed. “Of course you are.”

“Why’s that funny?”

“Because of course your name is Henry. With your perfect accent and your sexy tuxedo…”

He stood up, suddenly towering over her, and tipped his head, eyes swiping over her again.

“And what about you? You’ve got to be called Celeste or Audrey or something classic and elegant.”

Y/N drained the rest of the champagne at the bottom of her glass and stood to face him properly. “Well, Prince Charming, why don’t you just call me Cinderella.”

Henry reached for her hand and she gave it jokingly.

His kiss was no joke, landing softly on her skin and making the rest of her shiver. She held her breath and nearly fainted when he looked up.

“Pleased to meet you, Cinderella.”

Her head swam a bit and she wondered if that was what swooning was.

“Charmed,” she said with a dreamy smile.

He held her gaze, swept a warm thumb over her knuckles. His touch was like fire and she wanted to run. Away from him or into his arms - she couldn’t decide. All she knew was that there was magic in the air and she could not seem to tear herself away from the mystery of his face. His eyes were tragically beautiful, as if she was lost at sea on a broken raft, thirsting and alone, but she had the comfort of the blue waves to keep her safe. She thought herself insane. He was just a man in a mask at a fancy wedding. Just a tall, impossibly fit, perfectly dressed man at a masquerade ball. A deliciously gorgeous man who smelled like drinking in front of a roaring fire in a cozy library filled with old books in some ancient castle in Scotland. A man who was still holding her hand and her gaze, stealing too many moments and breaths from her day.

Y/N shook herself and pulled her hand from his.

“I should… go…” She turned toward the room. She had to get away, had to free herself from the captivating stranger and return to ignoring her coworkers and the bride’s overly friendly family. “It was nice to meet you, Henry.”

His frown nearly cracked the earth beneath her feet.

“Don’t leave just yet,” he pleaded. “I… Well, I don’t really know anyone here and you’re…”

She looked back over her shoulder as he hesitated. “Yes?”

He blushed and sought comfort in his shoes. Such a beautiful sight: a strong, confident man instantly melting into shyness.

Blue eyes looked up. “Beautiful and enchanting and… I was hoping that we could dance.”

She nearly fell over, knocked out by his voice and charm. A quick breath steeled her nerves. “Sadly, I cannot.”

He stood up fully but somehow still seemed small. “Dance with me?”

“Dance at all,” she corrected.

He laughed. “Well, how about another drink and some conversation?”

With a sigh, Y/N looked back at the crowd, into the sea of indistinguishable masks and unfamiliar forms. Giving in, she nodded politely and spun around to the bar.

They ordered another round and took up residence at the end of the counter, half hidden in shadow, invisible to the other party-goers. Music soared above their heads but they could barely hear it, so engrossed in each other’s stories.

They spoke of simple things- movies they’d loved as children and that well-worn paperbacks were still tucked into their bookcases. She asked him about home and he talked about the London traffic and how he preferred to stay around the house on rainy days playing games on his PC. He poked her about work and she glossed over her job, insisting that they keep the conversation light and free from day-to-day struggles. They drank and laughed and fell even deeper into each other’s gaze.

It was strange to have a conversation with a stranger in a mask. She knew that he was handsome- his eyes were brilliant, his lips perfectly plump. His jaw was tight and his neck was thick. He was big and sturdy, yet gentle and bashful. Though most of his face was hidden, she knew he was perfect.

Perhaps a little too perfect.

But as the alcohol flowed and the night wore on, Y/N couldn’t find a reason anymore to run. The night had cast a spell around them and there was no escape. There was magic in the gilded accents around the room, in the symphony of violins that danced above their heads, in their true smiles and tentative touches.

Even if he wasn’t perfect, she thought, the moment was.

And the moment was suddenly broken.

A firm hand on her wrist dragged Y/N from her place at the bar and onto the dancefloor. The bride would not be ignored and refused to take no for an answer. Pained by the intrusion and the demand, Y/N reluctantly took Chloe’s hands and twirled her around. The skirt of the massive wedding dress billowed like a cloud around Chloe’s small frame and Y/N laughed as she was nearly caught up in the fabric.

Heart racing and smile wide, she turned back to Henry but was shocked to find his place empty. Their glasses sat abandoned on the bar and Prince Charming was nowhere to be found. She felt a tug in her chest and a dampness behind her eyes.

Before she could shrug it off as just a random encounter and push his blue eyes from her mind, a tap on the shoulder made her gasp.

She spun on the spot and found him there with a sweet smile and open arms.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, dipping into half a bow.

Excitement rushed through her and Y/N bit her lip. “I told you, I’m not a good dancer.”

Unwilling to let her back away, Henry scooped her up and held her close, one hand capturing hers and the other pressing gently into the small of her back. He leaned in and teased his lips at her ear.

“Then let me lead…”

His fingers pulsed against her back, guiding her to move against him. They turned a few times until she was dizzy in his arms, laughing as he whispered into her ear:

“Left… right… back… you’ve got it…”

His breath on her skin was like a gust of summer air, warm and delicious, flooding her body with calm.

“See? You’re not too bad at this.”

Y/N looked up into his eyes and felt the world fade away. They rose up together off of the dancefloor, floating gently above the other guests, impossibly alone in the crowd. She knew she was drunk, knew she’d pay for it in the morning, but she didn’t really care. She didn’t care that her friends were watching, probably whispering about the mysterious man she was dancing with. She didn’t care that she’d twice stepped on his toes or that there was no way she could hide the fact that being so close to him wasn’t turning her into a melted, lustful shell of what she usually was.

The music crescendoed and Y/N held her breath. Henry dipped his chin, blue eyes locked on her hers. The world slowed down, the seconds stretched on forever. She closed her eyes, savored his exhale against her lips. His hand slid gently up her back, fingers wove through her hair. She felt her legs grow weak, her stomach tensed, her heart skipped. He took a breath.

The band stopped short and Y/N startled as the crowd shited. The moment was gone, ripped away once more by the party swelling around them.

A rush of silk; the click of hundreds of heels. Cheers rose throughout the room as a giant cake was rolled out onto the dancefloor. It towered up to the ceiling with beautiful rows of white creme roses and pearls strategically placed to make the fondant glow in the warm light trickling down from the chandelier above.

As the guests closed in, Y/N was pulled out of Henry’s arms and her heart ached as he once again was out of her sight.

Black suits swarmed around her, heavy gowns brushed against her legs. Voices rang loud. Bodies closed in on all sides.

Breathless, she spun, searching for an exit, for a way to push through the throng.

A hand appeared and reached for her. She clasped his fingers and Henry raced toward the big doors to their left, pulling her free of the mob.

They tumbled out into the cool air and found relief as the doors closed behind them, blocking the music and the excitement, leaving them alone in the night.

The garden was dark but magically aglow with warm, golden light. Fairy lights twinkled around them, strung from bushes and topiaries, highlighting a stone path. Beyond, a labyrinth of tall evergreen waited for curious souls to venture inside, daring the branches to keep them from reaching the end.

Wonderstruck by the evening- the dramatic escape, the music, the champagne and Henry’s crystalline eyes- she stumbled. One single step turned her ankle and the deadly heels she never wore took her down.

Her gasp tore through the garden, but Henry was there to catch her fall. She swung in his strong arms and her fear turned to laughter.

“This is just absurd!” she said, steadying herself with a palm over his chest.

Henry was calm and stable, easily holding her upright. “What’s that?”

“I mean… You literally just swept me off of my feet.” She shook her head and with a blushing smile, pushed away. “This is getting silly.”

Away from his grasp, she teetered again and Henry took her hand before disaster could strike.

“Why don’t you sit down for a moment,” he suggested, nodding towards a stone bench not far away. “Those shoes are dangerous.”

“You have no idea.”

She let him help her to the bench and watched in awe as he fell to one knee. Like an actual Prince Charming, he took Cinderella’s ankle in his hands and gently ran his fingers over the thin strap holding the shoe in place.

“You’re not swollen,” he reported. “That’s good.”

When he looked up, concern fading from his eyes, she gave up trying to suppress the enchantment of the night and took a deep breath.

Hands cupped around his face, she leaned in and finally met his lips.

Startled but delighted, Henry pushed up to meet her, taking her once more in his strong arms and kissing her properly.

Tiny lights flickered in the breeze, soft music seeped out into the garden, and Prince Charming and Cinderella found each other in the dark. Lips hungry and hands wild; heat mixing between them like a budding fire.

When the clock struck twelve, it chimed loudly and they broke apart, laughing.

“Seems about right,” she joked, looking towards the wedding. “Party ends at midnight.”

Henry dragged a thick finger over her collarbone. “Does that mean you’ll turn into a pumpkin and disappear?”

She laughed softly. “I don’t know when the last time you read Cinderella was, but… no.”

He licked her taste from his lip. “So you don’t need to go then?”

Her smile fell. “I do…”

“You could stay…” He dipped his chin and looked up through the mask, blue eyes dark in the light. “We could… find a spot-”

Y/N shook her head and reached for his hand. “I can’t, I’m sorry. I have to be back in the city tomorrow for work.” She lifted his fingers to her lips and left him with a final kiss.

Henry sighed. “Pity.”

She nodded and gathered her strength to stand and do what she should have done hours ago- run. Except this time, she was certain she meant it to be into his arms. Only this time, she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry…”

Quickly, she turned, carefully stepping back onto the stone path and away from the mystery man with his intoxicating voice and perfectly engrossing kiss.

He stood and called to her, desperate for one more look at his Cinderella.

“Wait-”

She paused, hand on the big glass door, heart in her throat. “Yes?”

“Don’t I even get to know your real name?”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s Y/N.”

Henry bowed his head in thanks and when he came up, the mask came off, slowly revealing a face she’d only imagined in her dreams.

He blushed at her shocked stare and laughed gently.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.”

She sighed, blissful and lost in a dream that she prayed would last the rest of her life.

“You too…”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@akshi8278 @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #fluff #romance #one shot #maybe more if it goes well i have ideas

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mx-julien · 8 months ago

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you guys oppositeshipping as either platonic or romantic slaps so hard. Kai melts icy outer armor and Zane cools a fiery temper guys the symbolism creates such a good dynamic that can't be attributed to attraction alone

possibly only to be rivaled by the Dareth/Ronin the Two Men Who Lack Long-Term Career Plans And Also They're A Bit The Worst Sometimes ship which is just hilarious and strangely fitting which i'm told is called Scruff?? immaculate

both are calculated, both are impulsive. Kai can plan and strategize in the throes of battle, while Zane's only moves in a pinch are Bullshit and Sacrifice. Zane can be overly curious, but he's on guard for manipulators and moles- Kai wants to believe people who are kind to him and it can blind him to other, more practical ulterior motives

at first glimpse, Zane seems hard to get along with and Kai extroverted, but the former's sincerity is clear while the latter obfuscates with sarcasm. even further down, we see Zane repress his trauma and feelings while Kai has outbursts of rage. they contain contradictions within contradictions of their elements

Kai uses his powers to smith, to create new tools and weapons. we hadn't seen the destruction Zane was capable of until the Never Realm, where permanent winters the world and nearly destroys a civilization (yes he's being manipulated and has the forbidden scroll in his hand I know). Skylor uses Kai's fire to forge a friendship and connect with him. Zane uses his heart and elemental power to destroy (mostly) the overlord.

typically, fire is the element of destruction, but I want you instead think of Kai and summer. gatherings and parties and adventures. warm waters and flourishing crops. everyone may be irritable, sweaty, and some sunburned, but it is built on the freedom to choose.

during winter people are together and inside out of necessity. it pulls people closer out of practicality and proximity. among the sparse bushes and trees, the wind chill and ice, are the adversity through which we persevere through. bonded together through change, through experience.

these connections are both one in the same and inherently different. their beginnings may be opposite, but the ending is often the same.

#don't get me wrong i still can only write glacier because opposite still feels a little too ooc for me but #OH BOY #the COLORS and the DRAMA and the THEATRICS #*chef's fucking kiss*#if i was posting art and not fanfiction you BET i'd be drawing them in their gis doing the yin yang thing #imma write polyninja at some point though #gotta be one of the least problematic ones in the fandom and for good reason #ninjago #lego ninjago #zane julien #kai smith #oppositeshipping #scruffshipping #only mentioned though #fire and ice parallel

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batwritings · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 9 - Face Sitting

I finally have one piece for every member of 141! Enjoy!~

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You weren’t sure what Soap’s fascination was with having you sit on his face so he could please you. Granted, Soap was a switch and you by no means were looking to take charge here, so it wasn’t a dominance thing. And it seemed like such a calm thing compared to some of the other stuff you two got into in bed, so it couldn’t be from adrenaline.

So when those pretty baby blues gave you puppy eyes the next time he was back from shore leave, you knew what he wanted. “I don’t see your obsession with this,” you chuckled, slipping on an old sweater of his. That was another condition to all of this; you had to be wearing something of his.

“Don’t need to love, don’t need to,” the Scotsman smirked, laying flat against your shared bed. “Hang onto the headboard if you need to yeah?” At this you rolled your eyes playfully as you carefully placed your thighs on either side of his head. Rough hands rubbed up and down the tops of your bare thighs lovingly.

“You think you’re about to rock my world with this little trick MacTavish?” you laughed, only to squeak loudly when your body was pulled down so your sex was resting right against the flat of his tongue. You had only been teasing him when you said you were unsure about this whole situation. But you could certainly see the pleasure behind this.

You bit your lip as a soft whimper escaped when Soap trailed his tongue from your back entrance up to your sex again. It felt like the heat from his mouth was everywhere all at once. The blend of his physical presence and his scent surrounding you was intoxicating.

“Still think you don’t need that headboard darlin’?” Johnny teased, nipping at your inner thigh. Before you could respond, that amazing tongue was back on your sex. You gasped a little, choking down a moan as your hips rocked against him. The mixture of pleasure of his tongue and burn of his scruff was immaculate.

One hand flew out to grip the headboard while the other covered your moans that were growing in volume with each lewd lick and suck. You were building a rhythm, the two of you; with every stroke of his tongue, you rutted your hips forward. Not that you needed more friction at the moment, you were pretty content.

Soap’s hands were rubbing soothing circles on your thighs, just enough to distract you. You hadn’t realized it at first, but he was slowly easing you down further and further to actually properly sit on his face. You didn’t even realize you weren’t at first, but one solid shake of your legs let you know you’d been effectively hovering.

“D-don’t wanna suffocate you,” you mumbled in your haze of arousal. And it was true; your goal here wasn’t to choke your lovable demolitions expert. Unfortunately for you, Soap had other ideas.

See, he may not have entirely looked it, but your sweet Johnny did have quite a bit of strength in his arms. He pulled you down fully to sit on his face, tongue never stopping it’s ministrations. You let out a loud moan, hips rocking with more fervor now.

The pleasure building in the pit of your stomach was slow, almost unseen as the Scotsman continued to slick and suck at your leaking sex. His baby blues were closed in absolute bliss, humming contently as his lips are coated in your essence and his own saliva. His calloused hands were firm on your thighs, holding you in position for him to pleasure as he saw fit.

“C-close,” you mumbled, hips rutting back and forth more erratically. On occasion you’d lose your rhythm and whine in frustration. You were teetering on the edge of orgasm and it was becoming to be too much, too quickly.

“C’mon mo leannan,” Johnny growled against your skin. “Come for me.” And it was like something snapped in the both of you. The sergeant returned to his ministrations with a fervor as you reached down to pull his head further flush against you. One moan that vibrated against you was all it took to have you spilling yourself across his face, crying out in pleasure.

A mixture of whines and moans filled the room as you came, Soap slowly easing himself back from your pulsing sex. His movements were at a snail’s pace as he got out from underneath you, helping you lay down curled against his chest. Such rough hands were so gentle as they stroked your cheek, little kisses being placed on your forehead.

Needless to say, you’d be sitting on Soap’s face more often.

#bat writes #cod smut #cod x reader #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader

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newtonsheffield · 7 months ago

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Mollyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!

This man is literally too handsome. He’s so handsome it should be illegal actually, I feel. But also this is giving immaculate Author Anthony vibes and the way I love that for Kate is something else entirely. He might be the boy who once nearly hit her with a frisbee but now he’s a tweed jacket wearing man with a scruff and his hair greying at the temples even at 28 and she is… feeling some kind of fucking way about how handsome her best friend is.

#you never called it what it was

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seravphs · 2 years ago

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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — AKI x FEM READER

Aki’s always rescuing you.

wc — 1k

tags — suggestive

“Have you drank before?”

“Of course,” you say with more confidence than you feel. You neglect to mention that you’ve only had a sip of beer at your father’s knee, or just one half swallow of a shot from someone else’s glass under someone else’s watchful supervision.

That someone else steps in to defend you now, as he always does. You feel a strange surge of annoyance and gratitude, always needing to be looked after like a puppy that’s wandered too far from its owner. Aki’s right there to scruff you when you get too reckless.

“Cut that out,” he says, annoyed. “You’re pressuring her.”

“Ooh,” Arai smirks. “You hear that, guys? Aki’s got a crushhh-“

He’s cut off by a near collision with Aki’s leg as he gets up to almost effortlessly pluck you off the floor. You yelp as he raises you up so smoothly it’s like it takes nothing out of him at all.

He’s so cool.

Aki tugs you away from the crowd and outside.

“You didn’t have to,” you start lamely, then stop. It’s too awkward. You know Aki always spoils you, but you don’t know how to get him to stop when part of you knows you deserve it. Not his attention, but his overprotectiveness. You’ve gotten yourself into enough sticky situations that he’s then had to bail you out of to protest.

Tonight alone, he’s taken half the shots that are meant for you. He doesn’t even make you suffer for it, casually swiping it out of your hand before you can bring it to your mouth. It makes you uncomfortable, not with him, but with the care he handles you with.

Aki’s patient. He waits while you collect your thoughts. It crosses your mind suddenly - an idle thought wondering what would it take for him to snap - before you bat it away like a particularly annoying fly.

“I feel bad, y’know? You’re always looking after me.”

“Someone has to,” he says off-handedly before your hurt expression tells him he’s clearly said the wrong thing.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just- You don’t have to feel bad. I’m happy to.”

He takes your hand in his gently, not thinking much of it. His skin is cool to the touch, a soothing balm against your frayed nerves. You hate work parties. The alcohol makes you dizzy, everyone��s too loud, and the heat is headache inducing. Power’s body is too warm next to yours, and she jostles you with every loud anecdote she recalls. You’d rather be here with Aki on the balcony. Absentmindedly, you play with his fingers.

Aki’s hands, like everything about him, are elegant and beautiful. His nails are constantly trimmed within a centimeter of standard protocol, as immaculate as the guidebook’s. Denji’s nails are too long because he can’t be bothered to cut them. Sometimes he paints them black because Kobeni told him girls are into that, other times they’re the color of whatever gunk is trapped underneath them. Aki tells him off often for it. His demands that Denji wash his hands fall on deaf ears.

Aki tries to set a good example, though he doesn’t succeed. He moisturizes every night, slicking his hands up to his wrists with lotion so they stay soft, even in this line of work. The drag of skin over skin is delicate, scented oils perfuming the pulse points in his wrist. His knuckles are slightly bigger than the width of his fingers, making them appear bonier and more fragile than they are. Each finger tapers to a soft curve, his nails ivory crescents.

His thumb presses against the divot on your hand between your thumb and forefinger as he readjusts his grip. Long, graceful, pale fingers belonging to a hand that swallows yours whole. Your throat is dry. The point of connection between you two feels like everything and nothing at the same time.

With his free hand, he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. This isn’t hard to accomplish with one hand. Lighting up is much harder. Aki struggles to hit the wheel, sparks flying but never igniting.

You can’t tell if that’s a blush or if the evening light is playing tricks on you. It doesn’t matter. He’s still cool to you.

Wordlessly, you take the lighter from him and ignite his cigarette. He tips his head back ever so slightly as he takes his first drag of tobacco that hour.

Addict.

There’s no rebuke in your thoughts, only fondness.

You can see the sweet relief on his face as his eyelids close. The profile of his face in the dim flame is stark, shadows like bruises against his cheekbones. Smoke haloes his head. He looks like a remorseful saint from an old painting, the paper yellowed with age around the edges.

While he’s distracted, you try to sneak a hand in his pocket. He traps you instantly, hand caught between his and his side.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He narrows his eyes at you, the way he does at Denji and Power when they’re being suspiciously nice. When they do it, it usually means they’ve ruined something in the house. He knows full well what it means when you do it.

“Getting a cigarette?” You try for an innocent smile.

“Nice try,” he laughs in your face as he pulls your hand out of his pocket. You grab at it anyways, fingers closing around empty air.

“But Aki-“

“Actually, stand back.”

Confused, you retreat an inch. He can’t really be that mad at you for something so small, can he?

“More.”

“Aki!”

“Second-hand smoke is bad for you. Maybe you should head inside.”

His smile is too crooked to be fake. All at once, you realize he’s messing with you.

“Tease,” you grumble. The wind picks up again and you resist the urge to sneeze. Aki opens his coat and gestures you closer. His skin is as cold as always so it doesn’t help much, but his body blocks out the elements. The circle of his arms is tight around you, his chin hard where it digs into the top of your head. His hands slide to your waist, gentle pressure wrapped around your hips. He smells like ash and tobacco, a little unpleasant but nullified by the warm vanilla spice of his perfume. You know he doesn’t like cologne.

Aki is muscle, sinew, bone - alive, painfully so. You sear this moment into your memory, knowing all too well what a miracle life is in a profession like yours.

“Stop thinking,” Aki mutters against your ear, muffled by the stick of his own death he holds between his teeth.

You obey as his hands creep up your body.

#sera writes #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki fluff

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animeomegas · 2 years ago

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Hello!! I’m so happy that the 4K event is here you totally deserved it!! Your writing is immaculate and makes me want to make my own blog :,)

I love anything you write with Kiba, your characterization of him so fun. So could I Request a story with him, where him and reader are not so secret lovers👁️ Like Kiba has made it CLEAR that that’s his alpha. Nobody else’s.

And ik this is isnt in the activity list which ik you said was fine but I’m not sure if it counts as an activity😭 but maybe kibas reaction to Reader’s parents trying to force them into accepting concubines ( either bc they don’t approve of kiba or thats just the tradition or culture in Alphas nation)

If that doesn’t count I totally understand!!

Kiba and Alpha getting fortunes told together would also be really cute!!😊😊maybe the fortune teller is appalled about how many pups they see in their future💀

CONGRATS AGAIN!!

Thank you! You're so sweet!! <33 And you should totally start your own blog, just saying 👀👀 The fortune telling thing is part of it, but I decided to go for another little plot. Enjoy~

...

KIBA + NOT SO SECRET LOVERS + A CONVERSATION WITH PARENTS

Warnings: minor n-sfw themes

"Is it Kiba?" you demanded again, fiddling with the ridiculously fancy clothes you had been forced into.

"Stop asking impertinent questions, child," you mother reprimanded, rolling her eyes. "Your fiancé will be arriving in a moment and I'm sure you have eyes that function well enough to discern his identity when the moment arrives."

"If it's not Kiba, then I will refuse to marry him," you sulked, crossing your arms.

Your father simply cuffed you over the back of the head.

You huffed, turning away from them both.

"It better be Kiba," you mumbled. They ignored you.

You were sitting in one of the drawing rooms and the plan was for some of your servants to bring your new husband and his family in to meet you.

As the door creaked open, you stood up with your parents, heart jumping in your chest. Who was it?

All the stress melted out of you when you were greeted by a grinning Kiba and his mother.

"Kiba," you breathed, grinning back at him.

Kiba launched himself forward, adeptly dodging his mother's attempt to pull him back, and pressed his lips against yours. You flailed for a moment, but the feeling of his lips on yours was a familiar one, and quickly your hands settled on his waist and tugged him every closer. The wet heat of his lips had heat pooling in your stomach, and you forgot about your audience until Kiba was suddenly dragged away from you.

"What did I tell you about staying by my side, you brat!" Tsume had Kiba by the scruff of his neck.

You didn't hear Kiba's response because your own mother gripped your arm and pulled you back as well.

"If anyone finds you knotted before your wedding night, you will not enjoy the consequences," she whispered into your ear. You noted that she didn't try to forbid you from knotting Kiba, just knotting him where someone could find you.

Your father cleared his throat.

"If everyone has come to their senses-"

"I was perfectly sensible," Kiba grumbled, his mother tugging his ear to get him to shut up.

"The final arrangements and negotiations can be made."

Everyone sat. Kiba tried to sit by your side, but his mother's grip was solid, so he sat facing you instead.

"Firstly, we must-"

"When is our wedding?" you interrupted, feeling the heat come back as Kiba winked at you.

Your mother closed her eyes for a moment like she was praying for patience.

"We will get to that, but there are some negotiations that must-"

"Negotiations?" Kiba interrupted this time. "I want at least seven pups."

Your father sputtered, choking on his tea while your mother closed her eyes again. Kiba's mother whispered something harsh in his ear.

"I'll give your fourteen," you pledged. "As many as we can manage."

"For heaven's sake!" your mother exclaimed, reaching the end of her tether. "If either one of you says another word, the wedding will be off!"

You knew better than to push your luck, but there was no rule against heated eye-fucking, so you and Kiba managed to amuse yourselves without words.

#4k follower event #kiba #kiba x reader #royal au #x reader #reader

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sweaterkittensahoy · 8 months ago

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MoTA prompt: Croz and Bubbles drunken shenanigans (please)

[This got Jack-centric, but it starts with Croz and Bubbles being drunk and adorable, so I hope it passes muster.]

Jack stands in front of them, hands on his hips, looking very, very tall. But Crosby and Bubbles are both sitting on the ground, legs crossed, holding each other's hands.

"What..." Jack sighs very deeply. "...the entire hell are you doing?"

"Hand claps!" Bubbles yells, letting go of Crosby's hands to throw up his own. Crosby makes grabby hands, and Bubbles puts his hands back. "Well, not right now, Sir. We're holding hands because you told us to stop fucking clapping, but we were clapping when you said it, so we held hands so we wouldn't clap."

"Because you said not to clap," Crosby says. He sways forward towards Bubbles, then sways back far enough that Jack wonders if he's going to hit his head.

"Harry, come back!" Bubbles says, pulling at Harry's hands. Harry overcorrects and tumbles into Bubbles's lap. Bubbles falls backwards but does not hit his head.

And then they're kissing.

Jack stares at them, wishing desperately to be struck by lightning. "I will say this again, though you two never fucking remember: Stop. Drinking. Lemmons's. Hooch."

Bubbles stops kissing Crosby to look up at Jack. Crosby snuggles into Bubbles's neck and goes limp. "But it tastes like home!" Bubbles says.

"So you say," Jack replies. "Every goddamn time."

"Because it's true, and I don't lie," Bubbles says.

"Yes, I know," Jack says. He counts to ten. Bubbles stays on the ground, seemingly fine to lie there and let Crosby sleep on him. Also just like always.

He turns on his heel and walks to the tents by the runway. Lemmons is outside of one already, not even trying to look innocent.

"I tried to tell 'em, Sir. I really did," Lemmons says.

Jack sighs. "Rosenthal!" he hollers.

There's a brief pause, then Rosie sticks his head out of the tent flap. He's shirtless. "Sir," he says, his poker face immaculate even as Lemmons turns his back so Jack can't see him laugh.

"Peel the navigators off the ground and put them to bed. Where you end up after that, I don't fucking care."

Rosie nods." Yes, Sir."

"Lemmons, you better have an extra bottle nearby for my bribe."

"Sure do," Ken replies. He reaches into the tent without looking and pulls out a bottle. "Enjoy, Sir."

Jack wants to pick him up by the scruff of the neck and shake him like a puppy. Instead, he waits to make sure Rosenthal is headed towards Bubbles and Crosby, then goes back to his own rack.

He leaves the bottle on the nightstand and flops down into bed. There's a soft knock at the joining door, and then Chic sticks his head into the room.

"Boys all quieted down?" he asks.

"For the moment," Jack says. "I give it an hour until Egan clocks in for his shift as the pain in my ass."

"He does like a late start," Chic replies. He walks into the room, holding up two glasses. "Care to share your bribe there, handsome? We could make a little noise of our own while the boys figure out who's up next to make a fool of themselves."

Jack huffs a laugh and pops the cork in the bottle. "I swear, half the reason Egan didn't want Air Exec is that he can't stand to miss his turn."

"No argument here," Chic says and sits on Jack's bed, holding the glasses out so Jack can pour.

#bubbles payne #harry crosby #crubbles #rosielemmons #clegan #masters of the air #no idea what one would call jack and harding #but they're here too

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blindmagdalena · 2 years ago

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Okay, but in my mind homelander with no powers has brown hair??? Don’t ask me why, I’m just absolutely sure in my heart that he’s secretly a brunette but vought is obsessed with the idea of a blonde haired blue eyed American boy so they make him dye it frequently. I’m just currently in love with the idea of homelander with some fluffy dark hair, a bit of scruff, and a comfortable looking fit, thanks for coming to my Ted talk

YES I 100% abide by the headcanon that Homelander bleaches his hair. I think he's just as responsible for it as Vought is. perfectly explains the fluctuating condition of his roots. (the idea of his hair immediately turning brown the second he's depowered is very funny tho, and fits in perfectly with all my sailor moon jokes.)

dark fluffy hair, scruff and glasses because I need him to realize that without his powers, he has terrible eyesight. it would really add to his crisis, and help make him unrecognizable if he were on the run.

the sadlander whump potential is so immaculate. HE wouldn't even recognize the man in the mirror. he would be so horrifically depressed. maybe determined to get his powers back?? the potential is endless honestly.

#depowered homelander #homelander headcanons #ask and you shall receive

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drarry-picrew · 1 year ago

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I love the headcanon of Harry being a total scruff and also so godamn sexy and Draco being so immaculately put together that Harry wants to just rough him up cos it infuriates him seeing Draco looking uptight and sexy.

Picrew

#drarry #drarry picrew #picrew #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry's scar is fucked in this version #i also have no idea what's happening with his hair

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rabies-an0n · 2 days ago

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Old Godzilla was hopping around Tokyo City like a big playground When suddenly Batman burst from the shade And hit Godzilla with a Batgrenade Godzilla got pissed and began to attack But didn't expect to be blocked by Shaq Who proceeded to open up a can of Shaq-Fu When Aaron Carter came out of the blue

And he started beating up Shaquille O'Neal Then they both got flattened by the Batmobile But before it could make it back to the Batcave Abraham Lincoln popped out of his grave And took an AK-47 out from under his hat And blew Batman away with a rat-a-tat-tat But he ran out of bullets and he ran away Because Optimus Prime came to save the day

Godzilla took a bite out of Optimus Prime Like Scruff McGruff took a bite out of crime And then Shaq came back covered in a tire track But Jackie Chan jumped out and landed on his back And Batman was injured, and trying to get steady When Abraham Lincoln came back with a machete But suddenly something caught his leg and he tripped Indiana Jones took him out with his whip

Then he saw Godzilla sneaking up from behind And he reached for his gun which he just couldn't find 'Cause Batman stole it and he shot and he missed And Jackie Chan deflected it with his fist Then he jumped in the air and did a somersault While Abraham Lincoln tried to pole vault Onto Optimus Prime, but they collided in the air Then they both got hit by a Care Bear stare

This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny Good guys, bad guys, and explosions as far as the eye can see And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be This is the ultimate showdown

Angels sang out an immaculate chorus Down from the heavens descended Chuck Norris Who delivered a kick which could shatter bones Into the crotch of Indiana Jones Who fell over on the ground, writhing in pain As Batman changed back into Bruce Wayne But Chuck saw through his clever disguise And he crushed Batman's head in between his thighs

Then Gandalf the Grey and Gandalf the White And Monty Python and the Holy Grail's black knight And Benito Mussolini and the Blue Meanie And Cowboy Curtis and Jambi the Genie Robocop, The Terminator, Captain Kirk, and Darth Vader Lo-pan, Superman, every single Power Ranger Bill S. Preston and Theodore Logan Spock, The Rock, Doc Ock, and Hulk Hogan All came out of nowhere lightning fast And they kicked Chuck Norris in his cowboy ass It was the bloodiest battle that the world ever saw With civilians looking on in total awe

The fight raged on for a century Many lives were claimed, but eventually The champion stood, the rest saw their better Mr. Rogers in a bloodstained sweater

This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny Good guys, bad guys, and explosions as far as the eye can see And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be This is the ultimate showdown (The ultimate showdown) This is the ultimate showdown (The ultimate showdown) This is the ultimate showdown Of ultimate destiny

-🌟

Whut 0_o

#rabies anon #ask blog #ask me anything #answered asks #anon ask #send asks #🌟 anon

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kishs-kleanup · 3 months ago

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Old Godzilla was hoppin' around Tokyo City lika a big playground When suddenly Batman burst from the shade And hit Godzilla with a bat grenade Godzilla got pissed and began to attack But didn't expect to be blocked by Shaq Who proceeded to open up a can of Shaq Fu When Aaron Carter came out of the blue

And he started beating up Shaquille O'Neal Then they both got flattened by the Batmobile But before he could make it back to the Batcave Abraham Lincoln popped out of his grave And took an AK-47 out from under his hat And blew Batman away with a rat-a-tat-tat But he ran out of bullets and he ran away Because Optimus Prime came to save the day

This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny Good guys bad guys and explosions As far as the eye can see And only one will survive I wonder who it will be This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny

Godzilla took a bite out of Optimus Prime Like Scruff McGruff took a bite out of crime Then Shaq came back covered in a tire track But Jackie Chan jumped out and landed on his back And Batman was injured and trying to get steady When Abraham Lincoln came back with a machete But suddenly something caught his leg and he tripped Indiana Jones took him out with his whip

Then he saw Godzilla sneaking up from behind And he reached for his gun which he just couldn't find Because Batman stole it and he shot and he missed And Jackie Chan deflected it with his fist Then he jumped in the air and he did a somersault While Abraham Lincoln tried to polevault Onto Optimus Prime, but they collided in the air Then they both got hit by a Care Bear Stare

This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny Good guys bad guys and explosions As far as the eye can see And only one will survive I wonder who it will be This is the ultimate showdown

Angels sang out In immaculate chorus Down from the heavens Descended Chuck Norris Who delivered a kick Which could shatter bones Into the crotch Of Indiana Jones

Who fell over on the ground Writhing in pain As Batman changed back Into Bruce Wayne But Chuck saw through His clever disguise And he crushed Batman's head In between his thighs

Then Gandalf the Grey And Gandalf the White And Monty Python and the Holy Grail's Black Knight And Benito Mussolini And the Blue Meanie And Cowboy Curtis And Jambi the Genie Robocop The Terminator Captain Kirk And Darth Vader Lo Pan Superman Every single Power Ranger Bill S. Preston And Theodore Logan Spock The Rock Doc Ock And Hulk Hogan

All came out of nowhere lightning fast And they kicked Chuck Norris in his cowboy ass It was the bloodiest battle that the world ever saw With civilians looking on in total awe The fight raged on for a century Many lives were claimed but eventually The champion stood The rest saw their better Mr. Rogers in a blood-stained sweater

This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny Good guys, bad guys and explosions As far as the eye can see And only one will survive I wonder who it will be

This is the ultimate showdown (This is the ultimate showdown) This is the ultimate showdown! (This is the ultimate showdown) This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny

-🍋👿 (this was my first lemon demon song. ghost of the normal elevator's past..)

"OOOOH! Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny! Love that song, always a classic."

"Not my first Lemon Demon song, but, still!" Shrug.

#dandy's world rp #dandys world rp #kish answers #thats right. kish is canonically a lemon demon fan

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sparingiscaring · 1 year ago

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For A Secret

Part of the @fallenlondonficswap!

For the General Swap, for @neathyingenue and for @thedandy-detective

I liked the ideas of incorporating cat-catching between a Normal Child and a Very Prissy Kitty, and realized. Oh. I co-own cat just like that with one VERY dandy Detective. Hope you both enjoy!

General : Cats, Urchins, Cat-Catching, Baxter Berkeley (Briefly)

(1968 Words) | AO3 Link

In the outskirts of London, far above the dirty-stained streets of London, an immaculate, perfect creature sat proudly upon her throne, staring down at passerbys with a well-deserved sense of superiority. The Queenly Kitten was royalty, after all, and it was in her blood to sit here, high above the peasant-humans that walked below.

It was tradition to laud herself above the denizens of this wretched city during her bathing time, to lazily listen in on their nonsense-arguments, their love-tyrsts, their shameless physical brawls, all while lapping idly at the glossy fur of her paw. It was entertaining to hear what so concerned those humans so far below, so ignorant to the perfect creature that shone above them like the brightest of False-Stars, like naïve children.

The Kitten purred as she rolled onto her back, burying herself deeper in the cushions of her window-box throne as she licked at a lacre-white leg that stretched towards the sky, that rolling sound emanating from deep within her fluff-hidden chest. She takes great pride in her purrs – no one could force them from her, without giving her proper due.

The Man who lived in the Rooftop Shack, the building her throne attached to, was, unfortunately, currently the only human who treated her with any of the respect she deserved. And so much disrespect that it hardly even mattered!! Her paws instinctively went to her neck, pushing up on the collar, although not truly trying to remove it. The concept of a collar was fine, but this one? One of such poor quality, without even a diamond to show her true value?! And not even the decency to leave the place for a name blank, when the Man had inflicted her with such a humiliating one?

That collar, that name, why she refused to use his own name, ever. Not until he respected her enough to grace her with a proper name.

Rolling again in her cushion-lined box, the Queenly Kitten settled to a rest on her side, stretching out, as if to take up the whole of her bed place. Her perfect jaw opened in a yawn, needle-like teeth glinting in the light of the False-Stars – she was tired, and one so great as her must have her beauty sleep! She wriggled once more, letting her eyes close as she readies herself for sleep. Perhaps the Man would be home then, and have dinner ready for her, by the time she awoke from her nap…

Perhaps she’d even let him pet her, if he washed the dirt from his hands first…

The Queenly Kitten is on the edge of sleep, the first rays of warm light and pampering hands reaching for, when she’s torn from her slumber by a pair of real hands, hands covered with a layer of grit and grime that instantly pulls the Kitten into a screaming yowl! She’s been pulled from her throne! She’s been pulled into the air by the scruff of her neck! UNHAND HER!

“Unhand me!” The Kitten screeches, clawing wildly at the air with the ferocity of a wild beast, all of her perfectly-groomed fur now standing on edge, turning her into a spikey, spitting mess of fluff and rage! However, it’s the fault of her biology that lets none of her murderous blows land, that lets her kitnapper live on – she cannot reach the back of her neck to land a blow! “Unhand me now!”

“In a minute!” It was an unfamiliar voice, childlike and girlish, and the Kitten instinctively bristles further! Not even the Man, or one of his circle of friends! A Stranger had her! A Strange Child!

Unceremoniously, the Kitten feels herself spun around in the air, legs rabbit-kicking uselessly at nothing, as her kidnapper comes into view. An Urchin! A grubby human, holding royalty in her hand like a common street-cat, holding a forgotten fishing pole in her other hand, down at her side. The human is a kitten herself, wide, reflective eyes set in her round face.

The Child grins, her teeth far flatter than the Kitten’s, but all the bigger. A fearsome predator in her own right. “You gotta give me my secret, first!” The Child says, dropping her fishing pole completely, reaching forward, and…

Petting her! Petting the Perfect, Pure, Queenly Kitten, with her soot-smeared hand! Grit! Grime! Muck! The Kitten yowled out pathetically again, so debased by the action!

“No! No, nothing! Nothing for you! I will give you nothing!” Secret?! A SECRET?! Extortion! Extortion!!

“That’s not how this works!” The Girl said cheerily, sitting down against the home of the Man, shifting to hold the wriggling Kitten underneath her armpits. “You’re s’posed to give me a secret for catching you! That’s how cat-catching works!” The Child says it with a knowledgeable superiority, and a fitting, know-it-all grin. “Everybody knows that! Even the baby cats!”

The Child purses her lips, spinning the Kitten around again, examining her from the sides. Pristine white fluff, all marked with grubby fingerprints. The horror! The Audacity of it all! But the Child does not seem to understand the gravity of this situation, instead letting out a giggle. A giggle!

“You don’t even have the excuse of bein’ a baby cat! So, c’mon, give me the secret!”

The Kitten opens her mouth as wide as it will go, and lets out a hiss, her hair prickling up against the Child’s skin. “I will do no such thing! I am not some street cat to be caught!” She’d heard of this game – catch a cat, and it’ll tell you it’s secret, in return for being let go. A barbaric practice! And on the Queenly Kitten had thought she’d never experience firsthand, being so far above it all…

Eyes narrowed, and another hiss escaped the Kitten’s maw. Of course some little human kitten had been the one to find her! And to catch her napping! The indignity of it all! “I am a proper housecat! Now let me go, before I must take drastic measures!”

The Child blinked. Her pupils are so big, so dark and reflective, that the Kitten can see her own reflection in them. “You’re still a cat, though.” The Child observes astutely, touching the tip of the cat’s triagular ear to prove its reality – the Kitten flicks it away before it even make contact. “Or at least, close ‘nough.” She thought on it for a moment, then shrugged. “So, secret? Or else I’ll have to get you a leash, until you do, and I dunno know to make a leash. Or maybe I can put you in m’ pocket, and carry you around, until you tell-”

“What’s going on here?”

THE MAN! He had returned, he had returned, he had returned from… from… job, maybe? Did he even have a job? Was the Queenly Kitten living with a mooch?

IT DIDN’T MATTER! HE WAS BACK!

“Please help!” She yowled out in distress, squirming anew! “Save me!”

The Man looked confused, as he always did! But before the Kitten could please for safety, the Child clasped a grubby hand over her muzzle, pulling the kitten to her lap. Why was a human kit so strong?!

“Is this your kitty?” The little girl asked, staring up at the Man with a big grin. “I’m s’posed to be stealing people’s hats ‘n things, but I wanna play with her instead! Can I, pleeeeeeeeease?”

The Man shrugged, not a care in the world. “Alright. Fluffles, don’t bite her.”

And then he walked into his home, and closed the door.

For her part, the Queenly Kitten was too shocked at her utter mistreatment to even bite the Child. Limp, like a wet weasel, in the child’s grip, as the hand was removed from her muzzle, and took to petting the soft fluff of the furball.

“Your name is Fluffles?” The Child asked, her nose crinkling up with a withheld giggle! One hand went to the collar, but what for..?

Oh no.

The Full Name.

The Kitten rocketed out of the girl’s hands, but it was too late. She had seen. And the laughter…

“Miss Fluffles Truffles?!” The girl asked, her face going red as she struggled to breathe from laughing. “ Like Fluffy? And Truffles?! Like the things pigs find?! You’ve got a piggy name! Piggy kitty! Piggy Kitty!!”

This, the Kitten realized, is what Devils looked like as kits.

Even though she was free, there was no reason to run. Not anymore. The Queenly Kitten’s life was positively ruined, and there was no coming back from this embarrassment. Her fur was dirty and sticking up at all angles, her name was being belted out to any that could hear it in fits of side-clutching laughter, and this child had called her… called her a pig. Swine.

But… she was the Queenly Kitten after all. She was better than that child. Better than her owner. Better than everyone. This was a problem, yes, but one as immaculate as her would not falter at such a challenge!

The Queenly Kitten sat down a few feet away from the child, and gave herself a quick once-over with her tongue, smoothing down errant spikes, and taking off as much of the dirt and grime as she could easily reach, taking particular care to smooth down her cheeks with a well-placed flick of her paw. She was better than this! She was perfect!

Chest fur puffed out as the Kitten straightened her posture, rising to stand proud, like the tigers of the Elder Continent she’d heard street-cats gossip about, like the great lions that roamed every speck of land of the surface above (probably)!

Her footwork was precise, even, and perfect, as she stalked back to the Child, still up against that wall, still laughing like a fool.

“It’s not a very good secret if you yell it.” She said with supreme authority, turning her muzzle up at the ill-made attempt at secret-keeping. “For one so knowledgeable on cat-catching, you’re rather terrible at it.” No one could prove she’d not intended to share it! It was genius. Brilliant. Just like her.

“That’s no secret! It’s right on your collar!”

Oh. That wasn’t grand.

The Kitten settled back onto her haunches again, another flurry of licks to her chest to smooth the natural-fluffing of it at such a challenge to her dignity and honor. She would be composed! She would be composed, and prove her lie, and leave this child humiliated! She would reign supreme! The Queenly Kitten would win, and avenge the loss of her respect in this strange kit’s eyes!

“You know the rules,” The Kitten chastises, her perfect tail flicking in time behind her head, left, right, left, right. Like a metronome, one used by a proper musician! An artiste, just like her! (Or so the Man said, when she’d drag whatever food she’d been given all over the kitchen.) “Catch a cat, and in exchange for their secret, you let them go. I just happened to be clever enough to put my secret in the perfect place, so only those who catch me see it!”

The tail flicked out to the left and did not move. “Now, off you go, child! I have a nap to get to, you know!” Irritation rose into her formerly-composed voice, a clear strain that bled into a hiss. “Continue your thievery of the people below in peace, and perhaps I’ll refrain of clawing you the next time dare cross my path.”

Perfect. It’s going perfect. The Kitten raises a paw to her mouth, and licks the underside, flexing her claws in a display of dominance, just as she always was meant to.

Instead of yowling, this time she just sighed at the Child scruffed her, one more dangling helplessly from a grubby hand.

“That secret’s dumb. Gimme another.”

#fallen london #dame's writing #fanfic #miss fluffles truffles berkeley-corbyn #my wretched little girl

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onlinesikhstore · 7 months ago

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Sikh Sarbloh Kara Smooth Design Singh Kaur Khalsa Kada Bangle Kakaar 5Ks New DD3 Sikh Sarbloh CHAKRI Kara Smooth Design Singh Kaur Khalsa Kada Bangle Kakaar 5Ks New. Kara Ref: DD3 Width is approx 8.3mm Thickness from inner side of Chakri to the edge of Chakri is approx. 12.3mm Weight Approx 110-155g (Variable due to size) Handmade design - therefore each kara is a Unique design Please note these Pure Sarbloh Kara are very hard to find and is a customised design exclusive to OnlineKaraStore These karas are from the Holy City of Amritsar (Golden Temple/Darbar Sahib). KARA Size is the internal diameter of Karas measured in CMs. There may be little bit rust present which is seen commonly in all SARBLOH KARAS due to purity of the metal/wrought iron. Cuts, dings and scruff Mark's may present as these kara are hand made and transported in Jumble in Jute bags. However, our kara will be near to perfection as we get these manufactured on demand and use bubble wraps to transport these. Please read below more Information about Sikh Kara: A kara (Punjabi: ਕੜਾ (Gurmukhi), کڑا (Shahmukhi) कड़ा (Devanagari)), is a steel or iron (sarb loh) bracelet, worn by all initiated Sikhs. It is one of the five kakars or 5Ks — external articles of faith — that identify a Sikh as dedicated to their religious order. The kara was instituted by the tenth Sikh guru Gobind Singh at the Baisakhi Amrit Sanskar in 1699. Guru Gobind Singh Ji explained: He does not recognise anyone else except me, not even the bestowal of charities, performance of merciful acts, austerities and restraint on pilgrim-stations; the perfect light of the Lord illuminates his heart, then consider him as the immaculate Khalsa. The kara is to constantly remind the Sikh disciple to do God's work, a constant reminder of the Sikh's mission on this earth and that he or she must carry out righteous and true deeds and actions, keeping with the advice given by the Guru. The Kara is a symbol of unbreakable attachment and commitment to God. It is in the shape of a circle which has no beginning and no end, like the eternal nature of God. It is also a symbol of the Sikh brotherhood. As the Sikhs' holy text the Guru Granth Sahib says "In the tenth month, you were made into a human being, O my merchant friend, and you were given your allotted time to perform good deeds." Similarly, Bhagat Kabir reminds the Sikh to always keep one's consciousness with God: "With your hands and feet, do all your work, but let your consciousness remain with the Immaculate Lord." The basic kara is a simple unadorned steel bracelet, but other forms exist. It was historically used like a knuckle-dusterfor hand-to-hand combat. Battlefield variations include kara with spikes or sharp edges. Sikh soldiers of the British Indian army would settle disputes by competing in a form of boxing known as loh-musti (lit. iron fist) with a kara on one hand. PLEASE NOTE: Please measure/check size of your kara/bracelet first while ordering to avoid any hassle or posting it back to us and paying extra for p&p for exchange and swap of karas with other desired sizes. There will be charge of £5 p&p towards exchange/swap of Kara for any size issues for UK buyers and £12 p&p for international buyers that needs to be paid by PayPal in advance or interested buyer can send us pa repaid self addressed envelope for any exchange/swap along with the original item in its original packaging and buyer should also return us the gift item/bags sent along with the item for appreciation of purchase. We may post back gift items/bags along with the swapped item. P.S. Colour of item may slightly vary due to camera flash and light conditions. Some Karas may have negligible small black grinding mark on the kara joint. This is always seen on all karas as most of the Kara making/shaping work is done by hands. However, this do not affect the quality/look of Kara. #Kara #KaraforLife #SikhKara #SarblohKara #Sarbloh #5Ks #SinghKara #SikhBracelet #KhalsaKada #Kada #SinghisKing Brilliant finish and very decorative. Ideal gift item for loved ones on any Occasion. Please follow us on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter @OnlineSikhStore #OnlineSikhStore Free Royal Mail Postage in UK. Postage discounts will be given to International buyers for multi-buys. Any questions please do not hesitate to contact us. P.S. Colour of item may slightly vary due to camera flash and light conditions. Size is approximate it and may differ by few mm from Kara to Kara or because of Digital Vernier Calliper errors. There may be rust present or marks of rust present as rust is natural characteristic of pure iron/sarbloh. These kara do require cleaning with Sharp Sand or Brasso Polish. These are usually treated with coconut oil to maintain shine after cleaning.

#round chakri kada #Sarbloh bangle #sikh sikhi sikhism #punjabi steel bangle #panjabi karra kaday #singh kaur khalsa #pure iron loha kada #stainless steel kara #silver bangle #gatka martial arts #smooth chakri chakra #warrior odha yudh #brave soldier saint

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