#Sturdy Cat Trees

[fantasytrees]

Tall Cat Trees

Tall Cat Trees Cat Climbing Tree Sturdy Pet Trees www.aHiddenHollow.com Unique Cat Trees

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I saw your post and honestly this is my first time making a request. How about arcane characters with a cat like reader? Idk it's just a thought that came (sorry if that's a bit weird)

Dunno whether this answers your request like you imagined. Also probs shit fire time writing for some of these characters.

Viktor found your cat like personality quite interesting and humorous if he wasn’t within the lab, working with things that normally didn’t capture your interest, unless they glowed of course.

Other than that it felt as though you were intentionally acting up in his lab for a reaction, like a cat would gauge the reactions of their owners before pushing a glass off the table. That’s how Viktor often felt with you

Then he has to keep an eye on you to make sure you didn’t touch anything dangerous because you were captivated by its light.

‘No, it’s dangerous and could hurt you my dear.’ He so often warms you as he guides your hand away when he felt it was dangerously close to what he was working with. Your mind didn’t head his warning, only the fact that there was a shinny object in the laboratory and it was the only thing you could focus on.

‘If so dangerous, why is it shining as though it wants me to touch it then?’ You responded, daring to touch the object once more and Viktor swore you either knew what you were doing and playing him for a fool, or you had no self preservation skills within your entire body to fight back against your urge to touch a dangerous foreign object.

It’s literally a stand still between the two of you and one that happens far too often that Viktor knows that this was all part of your plan, and unfortunately for him he falls for it almost always. He watches you while you watch him before doing something rash, making think you’ve actually touched the dangerous object, only to look at you unamused when you smiled at him mischievously as you wiggled your unharmed fingers at him.

This often leads you to being banned from the lab for pulling a stunt like that, however this was more for your safety and for him to calm his racing heart. You’ll kill this poor man with your antics but he wouldn’t want you any other way, especially when you cuddled up to him for warmth and sleep there.

It soothes him just as much as it soothes you.

Ekko found himself often wondering where it was you went sometimes.

He sees you in once place and then you disappear the next, returning to base only when you felt it necessary of you to do so, illusive and vague of where you’ve been it was often a bit frustrating. You could’ve been in serious danger for all he was aware and when he confronts you about this behaviour of yours, you’d only shrug and say:

‘Where it is a go on my own time isn’t something you should waste time worrying over.’ Before leaving to go elsewhere within the base and lounge against one of the trees thick and sturdy branches, eyes closed in content as you softly drift off into a light nap.

How the fuck you got up there, he’ll never know other than the fact that you managed to get up there in the first place with effortless ease.

Ekko’s nickname for you was either kitty or something along the lines of a cat based pun. You hated all of them equally but Ekko only feels more vindicated when you only proven his perception of you right whenever you displayed a trait that was common amongst cats. Whether that’d be silently judging everyone from your perch way up high, or lounging in his bed, more specifically where he had laid moments prior, feeding off of the warmth that lingered there or otherwise Ekko would find humour in you cat like traits because they were the things he loved the most.

(In a timeline where they actually have phones I can imagine him sending you cat memes and saying ‘this you?’ Or ‘I found your relative’ he thinks he’s funny, and he is but you won’t admit it out of petty pride)

However the one thing that you could always hold over Ekko’s head was the fact that you could silently manoeuvre your way into a room without him knowing and managing to catch him off guard. Ekko didn’t find it particularly funny but he lets up eventually and admits that it was kinda funny that you managed to take him by surprise. This was why you were more suited to missions heavily requiring a person with an abundance of stealth and agility.

‘Always landing on your feet aren’t you?’ He’d tease but you would let it slid as you shrugged your shoulders and reply. ‘What can I say? It kinda comes with the territory don’t you think?’

‘You sure you weren’t a cat in your past life or something?’ She would ask as she raised a brow at you as you cuddled into her side, much like a cat would when in they wanted to leech off is the warmth of a human.

‘No, why you ask?’ You say as you began to close your eyes, her warmth blanketing you almost immediately, and becoming increasingly sleepy.

‘You act like one for starters with how lazy you are.’ She pointed out and you’d only scoff at her, resting your head on her shoulder, having become too comfortable with your current position to even be bothered to move.

‘I’m not lazy, I’m merely taking advantage of the beauty that is power naps.’ You defend yourself and it was Sevika’s turn to scoff, having heard this excuse countless times before, and it never stopped her from continuing to compare your personality to that of a common house cat.

She disliked it at first, finding it weird and annoying at the fact that you didn’t seem all that bothered with the ongoings of Zaun, instead favouring to rest in high places that provided warmth or close to it and watching everyone with clear judgement within your eyes. However that judgment did end up saving her from time to time, not that she’d ever admit to this, as she was confident in her own abilities to smell a bitch from a mile away.

Though the more as time passed she grew to find it somewhat easier to deal with, though you cuddling up to her for warmth did put her off now and then, affection wasn’t commonplace in Zaun; so forgive her for not exactly taking to it immediately. Though each time you did cuddle into her side, her urge to create distance between you dwindled, from Perivale shoving you away from her, to slowly accepting that this was her life now.

‘Sure, that’s a hell of a way to avoid saying that you’re lazy.’ Sevika smirks when you glared at her, clearly insulted by this, before moving off of her to go rest elsewhere on the bed you shared and making sure your back was towards her in an effort to show your disagreement with her statement. ‘Not. Lazy. I just like napping.’ You retorted.

‘Yeah, sure keep telling yourself that, I’m sure it’ll be true one day.’ Sevika jokes and your shoulders only deflate more, knowing you’ll never win this war with Sevika when her mind is made up. She’s always in the right in most cases.

Mel is all too familiar with your cat like traits that nothing you do is out of the ordinary to her.

She finds humour and amusement in you participating in things commonly associated with felines. A human cat is what you were in her eyes as you slept the easiest you’ve ever slept when besides her, her presence was calming and was more then enough to have you reduced to a relaxed state before succumbing to sleep.

She just had that effect on you and you loved it as much as she does as she got to run her hand down your back.

‘You’re practically purring.’ She teases.

‘It’s not my fault you know exactly what makes me melt.’ You replied as you smiled up at her, never having gotten use to having this absolute goddess of a woman bless you with her smile, her heart, her everything.

Mel smiles softly. ‘You don’t exactly made it much of a challenge.’ She says as she watched the way you practically leaned in towards her touch, eyes closed in content with a smile spread across your face that she swore your nonexistent tail would be swishing from side to side. She has been in this position countless times before and yet it never gets old with how content she felt when moments like these between you and her freely exist within her mind.

You don’t exactly make it hard for her not to love you like she did, it came to you as easy a breathing as that’s how quick you were to fall for her, almost as if it was as though you were breathing; Easy, effortlessly and natural.

‘How can I when you read me so effortlessly and without fail?’ You replied back in almost a purr, a mischievous smile spread wide across your lips, ‘I shouldn’t need to hide myself from my lovers eyes, for she knows me all too well.’ You add. Another thing Mel adored was your cunning but cautious mind and the way you seemed oddly too relaxed for some, watching those very same individuals like they were merely mouses that squeaked about their freedom; like you were being amused by rather was being said in meetings as though you knew something they didn’t.

You were like the Cheshire Cat, often times speaking in riddles that only she herself understands.

Mel kisses the tip of your nose. ‘You smile like the cat that caught the canary,’ she says as she pulls away. ‘Learning more about you is more interesting and intriguing than the last.’

‘Then I hope I stay that way for a long while.’ You said, smirking when you felt her kiss your lips.

[merakiui]

100%

yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, captivity, very vague and slight implications of codependency, angst note - your mobile phone was at 100% when he took you away. with time, the percentage has diminished. so, too, does your hope for a brighter future.

The windowpane is spattered with rain.

Sitting cozy in a cushioned alcove, you watch the droplets slide down in regal rivulets, consolidating to form single streaks. The scenery beyond the window is bleak and dreary—a despondent landscape of gnarled, leafless trees and scratchy brambles stretching towards a dark, dismal sky. Sometimes you liken the rain to tears, wondering if Mother Nature weeps for all creatures or simply for you and your situation. Rare are the days in which the sun shines upon the craggy stone façade of your captor’s castle, and she is as benevolent as she is cruel.

For all of its sumptuous splendor, generational wealth filling the interior with priceless heirlooms and relics, it is an empty, cold structure. You’ve taken to enveloping yourself in thick furs, if only because these furs do not speak like the monster who so humbly offers his embrace. Though you’ve always considered yourself of strong, sturdy mind, your restraint is thinning. As the days pass and you shed clothing sizes like they’re second skins, you find yourself drawn to warmth.

Which is, ironically enough, contradictory to your current temperament. The windows, frigid like the grave, provide solace you cannot find anywhere else—for it is only tender warmth you receive from him. Had he not been so merciful, perhaps it would have been easier to shrink away and truly loathe him with every ounce of your being.

And yet, in order to escape the warmth which enshrouds, you seek the cold, bitter windows and their rain-weary countenance.

Lying beside you on the pillows, snoozing the afternoon away, a calico cat snores idly. She was a gift from him. You were neglectful of your mental health and thus, as per his guard’s suggestion, he sought to find a cat to cure your loneliness and inspire some form of happiness. You appreciate Silver—genuinely, you do—but the good luck a calico brings is not nearly enough to rescue you from captivity.

She was a stray, a scrawny thing with a limp and one bad eye. You took to her right away, scooping her up in your arms and lovingly naming her Cotton. Similarly, she returned your affections, rubbing her head against your palm and purring pleasantly.

Now she likes to nudge the dome that is your stomach, a great, round thing at only six months. Sometimes you think she’s more motherly than you are. You’ve never been able to care for much of anything. Plants wither under your touch, recipes spoil even when you follow them to the letter, and your electronics crack.

Your phone, more fractured than your very heart, is cold in your hands. The screen is blank; it’s dying. It was at 100% before. Now it’s been reduced to a sad 7%. There is no reception or connection to be had in Briar Valley. Your phone, once so powerful and all-knowing, is but a hollow shell. Useless. A digital photo album will expire at its final hour, and there’s no charger. He offered to use his magic to charge it, but he has never known his own strength and you couldn’t risk losing the treasured memories stored within.

Sometimes you’d return to old message logs and read through them. Now you can’t do that, lest you drain the battery quicker than intended.

“So this is where you’ve retreated,” Malleus notes, poking his head around the corner of a towering bookcase. Concern settles on his features. “Are you well? Sebek tells me you were absent for breakfast.” “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, watching his reflection through the stormy glass.

Malleus glances at Cotton and then at your phone as it rests in your clasp. “May I trouble you to eat just a little, if only some fruit?”

“I’m not hungry.” He nods, stalling. “Will you join me for lunch?”

“If I must.”

A small smile lifts his lips. “Are you cold? It can’t be very comfortable to sit there for such a long time. You’ll catch your death.”

“I hope.”

He tuts in disapproval and shrugs out of his cloak, draping it over you even though you’re already wearing a fleece robe. Malleus assesses you with a fleeting once-over.

“It doesn’t hurt to layer. You must understand where I’m coming from, dearest. Extreme temperatures serve to weaken those who are already so fragile.”

“I’m not fragile,” you snap, turning to scowl.

He doesn’t flinch at the heat smoldering in your eyes. “You’re human.”

“How many times did you have to practice that to come to terms with it?”

Malleus’s verdant stare narrows; his frown tightens. “It’s the truth.”

“I didn’t think you’d confront it.”

“I must if I’m to understand…” He exhales through his nose, deflating somewhat. “You’re in fine health. The physician tells me so. There’s no need to worry ourselves with ineffectual what-ifs.”

You turn your gaze on the sprawling forest next, unwilling to discuss the report and its subsequent conclusion: If she remains in good health and follows the recommended diet for an expecting mother, she’ll carry to term.

“My phone is dying, Malleus.”

“Is that not life? Lilia once said so.”

“My pictures… My everything is stored in this phone. It means so much to me.”

“Truly? Is there not a way to make physical copies of these photographs?”

“Unless Briar Valley has the technology to do so…”

“I’m afraid not.”

Malleus takes a daring step closer, endeavoring to comfort you. Cotton cracks her good eye open to peer at him. She hisses low in her throat, a protector standing small against something so tall. Pouting, clearly disheartened, Malleus heeds her warning and chooses to linger just within the bounds she deems acceptable.

“Yeah, that’s what I assumed.”

You heave a dejected sigh, your shoulders drooping. Seeking to cleanse your visual palate, you power the device on. 5% blinks back at you, an insignificant number sitting in a corner that you normally wouldn’t have paid much mind to. Now it weighs heavy, a reminder that the end is encroaching.

“I would’ve liked to keep these photos forever,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Malleus hums his acknowledgement; you think he knows the feeling—or some variant of it, at least. “If I lose these pictures…”

“Do you not have memories?”

“I do, but it isn’t the same. One day I’ll grow old and my memory will be frail. I won’t remember nearly as much as I do now. Those memories will become ghosts and eventually I’ll—”

“You will not.” There’s a finality to the declaration—you won’t leave me; you won’t drain or die like this mobile device.

You rest your head against the window. The cool glass soothes your soul. I wonder what the others are up to right now… You place your hand upon your belly. I wonder if they’d have any good ideas for a name. I’m terrible at naming things. I can never pick something that feels right.

“I’d like to have a funeral for my phone.”

But maybe there is no right thing.

“Of course,” he agrees, perfectly serious. You will have that phone funeral, just as you will have every other request you make—however patently absurd it may seem. (Every other request except for freedom, of course.) “Materials may not have the same worth as a loved one, but the experiences they provide are just as valuable. Surely, no? Otherwise I would not feel so troubled when Roaring Drago…” Pausing to search for the placeholder, Malleus glances at your phone. “Perhaps there is no greater tragedy than existence itself.”

“It’s the most bittersweet burden,” you echo, scrolling through each picture with wistful remembrance. “But then I’d rather know the fleeting frivolity of life than endure hundreds of years of solitude. It makes me appreciate everything that much more.”

You stop at a picture of you and Malleus, a photo snapped by Lilia himself. Part of you often wonders why he chose you—why he adores you to such a degree when you, like everyone else, will inevitably perish. But therein lies the allure: That which is unobtainable is even more tempting. And because there is only one of you, a human destined to one day return to her home world, your very presence is more fleeting than a dream.

To Malleus, who has always dreamt, fond and fervent, of the unobtainable mundanity of normal life, you are a sweet, tangible blessing.

“Horns, do you think I’ll ever get another chance to have my phone at 100%?”

He softens under the nickname. It means more to him than his lofty station. “Would you like to know that joy?”

“It would be nice, yes, but then I’d just get sad when it reaches zero. I guess I should be grateful it’s stayed alive for this long. Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just forget it.”

“Nonsense. There is no such thing.” He reaches to touch your cheek, but Cotton hisses again and so he refrains. She stands on unsteady legs and climbs into your lap, perching awkwardly in spite of your rounded belly. The sight draws a deep chuckle from him. “Your feline friend is quite taken with you.”

“It’s probably because I’m warm. She likes my belly a lot.”

“As do I.”

You roll your eyes.

“Your beauty is most beguiling. There’s a certain radiance to your person. It’s very charming. Do you not agree?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere—definitely not in Cotton’s good graces.”

“I’m simply voicing a fact.”

Your hand slides down from your stomach to pat Cotton. She purrs under your touch, and a weak approximation of a smile tugs at your lips. Amidst all of this sorrow, she is a glimmer of hope. In a way, she’s like you—a stray without a place in this world, snatched from the cobbles she once wandered and confined in a cage of royal opulence. Your similarities are striking, if not immensely devastating.

“Fact or not, I don’t care if I look pretty. It means nothing to me.”

“To be impartial towards appearances… Quite a noble mindset.”

I never once thought you were scary or strange, Horns. Even now.

You look at your phone once more. 3% flickers back.

You’re just lost, and in being lost you found me. But I was also lost. I never even belonged in this world to begin with…

“I’m not going to be a good mother.”

“You can’t know that.” 

“I can’t even take care of myself.”

“I shall care for you when you find yourself unable to.”

“I’d rather you not.”

With Cotton having curled on your lap, slumbering peacefully, Malleus chances to close the gap. His broad frame leans to make up for the difference in height, and he runs cold fingers along your cheek. He brushes away the tears you weren’t even aware you were shedding.

You grip your phone in shaky hands, your shoulders hunched. There’s a piercing ache in your chest, pain stabbing all the way through to your heart. It persists when you power it off, unable to delight in pictorial reminiscence for a moment longer. Silent like death, you sob; seismic dismay shudders through you in waves. Distantly, in a forgotten corner of your brain, you suspect this may be the last time you’ll ever use your phone. The last time you’ll ever look upon the photos you’ve amassed. Photos of friends, class notes, food. Photos snapped by mistake, blurry and unfocused. Photos taken when Ace and Grim stole your phone. Precious memories are preserved within the permanence of a photo album—an album that only remains everlasting so long as you keep your phone charged.

Your final shred of the world beyond Briar Valley vanishes in a blip, leaving you with the dark void that is an empty screen. Brutal is the agony, contorting your face, and you bawl like you’ve just witnessed the end of a life.

In a way, you have. You held it in the palm of your hands, and you watched it wither. Watched the percentages drop through numbers, double digits easing into singles. Watched every week and tried to spare your beloved phone of its fate. Watched and attempted to stall the impossible—a foolish undertaking. This was inevitable; you knew this, and yet you’re still mourning.

Perhaps that is the most tragic facet of existence. From the moment one is born, they are mourning. Humans mourn losing time—of allowing it to slip through their fingers when they should have put it to better use. Humans mourn aging even though it is celebrated yearly. Humans mourn for things that are inhuman—for robots stuck in an endless cycle of some menial task while gears grow rusted and systems shut down or trapped on a distant planet, never to return home. For the fruit that falls from trees and rots, trampled and forgotten. For the endings, good and bad, of novels. For art that will never see the light of day because it has been destroyed or stolen or silenced. For the friends they meet, have met, and will meet.

You mourn because you know it’s impending, and you spend all of your life coming to terms with it, only to break down when it finally happens because the truth of the matter is that you will never be prepared no matter how much you prepare yourself. You mourn because you’re a complex human with complex emotions, surviving in a complex world with millions of intricacies, and the only way to weather misery is to mourn.

To the little life cradled in your womb, who knows not of these difficulties yet, they cannot fathom the anguish that accompanies loss. And right now that is all you can hope for—a life without loss.

But that is impossible because loss is true to everyone’s experience. It is part of existence, and existence is inescapable.

Malleus does not gather you in his arms. He will do so if you ask, and he knows you want to ask, which is precisely why he waits. But you’re stubborn and you refuse to give in to the temptation, let alone grant him the satisfaction. It doesn’t offend him.

The windowpane is spattered with rain. So, too, is your phone, spotted with tears and snot.

Briefly, you wonder if you still look beautiful to Malleus.

Even at your ugliest, he would still cherish you. Desperately, as if he might lose you.

Knowing this does not soften the gutting grief.

[prettyboykatsuki]

your kind of like | h. suo

✮ tags ; fem!reader, tomboy / athlete!reader, friends to lovers, third-year suo but its not super important, mutual pining, silly shoujo tropes lol, i headcanon tsubaki using she/they pronouns

✮ wc ; 2k (??????)

✮ a/n ; based on violets request for suo + my tomboy reader delusions. reader is a himbo but a girl and i love her.

also sorry if i completely butchered this guy LOOOL

The first time Suo lays eyes on you, you're half-way up a tree - a few feet from the ground, trying to coax and old lady's cat to jump on you and come down safely.

He remembers it in great detail since it left a lasting impression. How you rolled your skirt up so it wouldn't get in your way, how your face and hands were covered in scratches - and most particularly, how you smiled the entire time. How you were loud as you clicked your tongue but soft to it once it jumped into your arms.

You had jumped onto the soles of your feet with great force but the kitty seemed calm in your arms after a while. Bright as the sun and twice as warm, you returned the cat to it's owner and then, met Suo for the first time.

You give him your name, your age, your birthday - and then ask him for the same. When he gives it to you, you clap a hand on his shoulder and tell him it's so good to meet him.

Suo does not believe in love at first sight. Koi no yokan—love at second sight, or the feeling when you meet someone that loving them is your destiny. If Suo could put a name to that feeling, it was probably that.

He was bound to love you from that very instance.

For the last two years, he's been going straight down that path with no resistance and insurmountable clarity.

It's natural for Suo to make comparatives. It's the type of person he is, the kind of fighter he sets himself up to be. Primarily a martial artists with a preference to keep calm requires strategizing.

Drawing connections comes to him as easy as breathing.

So, if he had to compare him to you, there's no end of things that make you incredibly different. Almost opposite in all ways except your decency. Compared to Suo, you are loud and brutish and strong. You're easy to read in a way that reminds him of Sakura, but denser. Your nature is tough and absurdly honest.

You don't often fight outside of your sport for one reason or another, but when you do - you prefer to tank hits instead of avoid them. Everything you feel always shows on your face.

He's never met a girl so earnest in his entire life.

He's never really met anyone like you in general.

After your first meeting, you began to get friendly with him and Bofurin in general. A student athlete in an all-girls school in the same town, you're often in the area doing odd jobs for money. You live with your brother who works in the city, and you're the youngest of your family. You're incapable of lying, even when it might benefit you and you like sweet things.

You're nice to everyone and like to chat up whoever's around, but you like Suo especially. You often ditch class to go to Furin and hang out with them and you're rarely intimidated by anyone. You're comfortable with his friends, though you seem especially fond of Nirei and Sugashita. Sakura too, though he has yet to know how to act around you even this many years later.

Your relationship is as normal as any other friendship, but maybe that's part of the problem. You treat Suo as thoughtful as you would any other friend - even when he refuses to tell you about himself. You're not hurt by the fact he's got walls up so high, and you don't hound him when he can't be straight with you.

You understand Suo as a friend and don't bother with any other details. You just.. get him. So effortlessly. And even when you don't, nothing changes.

The nature of Bofurin after all, leads Suo to fights that leave him in emotional tatters. Moments where anyone else would ask to open up, you remain steadfast. Your friendship is a lot like you, sturdy beyond his understanding

(Countless times, Suo has shown up at your door unannounced - often covered in bruises and battered. You worry and anger, but you always let him. Take care of his wounds, let him borrow your shower. Even going so far as sneaking him into your room when your brother was home, just so he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts.

He can't count how many times he's slept across from you in your bed. Dense. An honest idiot. A girl with no self-preservation who's letting a guy sleep alongside her with no care.

Suo always feels apologetic the next morning and you smile and go along like nothing happened. It might've been true in your case, but in his - he fell in love a little more each time.)

Because you're that way - Suo finds it hard to deal with his feelings. With the enormity of them, the intensity of them. You're not totally clueless - but when people talk about relationships or dating, it always seems like it has nothing to do with you.

If you were anyone else, he thinks it'd be easy to confess to you. If you had been another girl, or less of a friend.

But it's you. The bright, earnest, tough, you. He can't even bring himself to flirt with you or treat you idly despite how much he likes you. He knows better than anyone how good you are, and can't pretend to be anything less than honest about it. He adores you so utterly that it'd be pointless to even try to pretend to have the advantage.

He can be a tease. A flirt, if he wants to be. With anyone else it'd be easy. But with you, the love is so genuine it's impossible. He just wants to cherish you. Wants to shower you in affection, wants to spoil you and give you all of his time.

Friends is such a hard line in the sand. The minute Suo crosses it, there's never going to be anyway to go back to how you were before. He's been careful in being content with just friends, because he'd rather keep you in his life than not have you at all by scaring you away with his feelings.

He thinks it'll all be fine until Nirei tells him word on the block about a recent confession.

__

"A kouhai from a different team asked you out?"

Suo reaches out to wipe the grain of rice from the corner of your mouth as you eat onigiri. Your carelessness endears him but he's too distracted by the rumor to pay it any mind. You nod, swallowing with a sip of water.

"Uh-huh. Akira-kun. Dun' know his first name, but he's a good kid. Super tall for being younger, though."

Suo was sure he would never have to worry about this since you went to an all-girls school. To think you'd get a confession from a fellow student athlete, a boys member of an opposing team. He tries not to get irritated at the thought.

"Are you interested in him?"

You pause. Suo feels his heart race before you answer with a shrug and continue to eat your bento.

"Dunno the guy enough to like 'im. He seems nice. I told him as much but he said that was fine," You pick at the veggies in your bento, taking a bite out of one. "So he asked me on a date instead so we could get to know each other."

"Oh?" Suo forces himself to smile and keep his voice even. "Are you going to go?"

You nod and Suo feels his heart stop. Shit.

"Really? I'm surprised."

You hum. "Well, you know, I've never been on a date," You say, suddenly smiling. You look so genuinely happy Suo can't bring himself to be totally upset. "But, it sounds super fun! We're gonna go to a batting cage in another prefecture."

He looks at you in surprise. "A batting cage?"

"Well, he thought I'd like that more than other date ideas, but I'm not all that picky since I've never been."

"You already talked about it a lot then."

"Uh-huh. He laughed when I said I wanted to go eat meat after. Said that was just like me... somehow I don't get it, but I'm happy anyway. I hope it'll be fun."

Suo smiles his best business smile and tells himself beating the shit out of his friends kouhai for flirting with her is wrong. "Hm. Are you prepared to go on the date?"

"You sound like Tsubaki-chan," You lament. "She made me go get nice clothes and everything."

....

"She did, huh? That sounds just like her. Did Kotoha-san go too?"

"Mhm. They just picked it out for me since I'm not good with any of that. Tsubaki-chan is so beautiful so I trust her."

"Mm,"

"What's wrong?"

You're looking at him with such clear eyes it makes Suo guilty. He knows if he says nothing now, you'll drop it without question. That's just how you are. But for once he doesn't really want to drop it. It's too impulsive and entirely rash but he really...

"You know, if you wanted go on a date - I could've just taken you."

You pause then grin a little. "Dates are for people in like, you know."

Of course you would assume it was a joke. Suo pauses, suddenly looking serious.

"So, if I told you I liked you - would you consider going on a date with me?"

"Sure," You smile because you definitely still think he's joking. But it's a pretty, honest smile anyway. "But Suo-kun doesn't need to ask me for anything. We can always just go together."

He still himself as he scoots in closer to you where you sit, pushing your lunches out of the way and closing the distance to look at you closer. You blink in surprise but don't back away or flinch.

"I'm being serious you know?" He hums softly. It's less hard to say than he thought, but maybe it's because he's already been willing to put everything on the line for you from the start. "I really like you. In that way."

You blink. "...Huh?"

He can't help himself. He'll apologize later. Your breath is warm and soft when he leans in and presses his lips to yours for too long. You don't push him away, uncannily receptive to the touch. You taste salty. Suo kisses you for as long as you'll let him and pulls away only for breath.

He isn't sure what he's expecting, but the jump from pure shock to pure embarrassment surprises him. You put a hand on your shoulder, jaw open in disbelief.

"....So it was like that," You mumble, in shock. "It was... really like that?"

"For a long time, now"

"I also like Suo-kun, but how shocking."

Suo stares at you. "Are you sure your like and my like are the same? I get the feeling that -"

You press your lips to his as if to prove a point, pulling away and brushing it off just as quickly. He can feel the heat rise to his neck in immediate disbelief. You frown at him "Between us, I'm the one who's good at being honest so don't be like that,"

He just... stares. He's elated but completely confused. "Why didn't you confess earlier?"

You smile sheepishly. "Being your friend is also good, so I was okay with not changing it. It's hard to tell what you're thinking and I didn't think it was important."

He laughs in disbelief, dropping his head down to your shoulder. He didn't think he would be this happy. He didn't even think it was possible. "How could that not be important?"

"You're more important to me than that," You say easily, though he can hear your beating from where his head is. "I'm happy we like each other but I care the most about Suo-kun's feelings and being with you since you're important to me. I want to be with you for a long time."

Ah. In some regards, it seems like Suo is never going to be able to one-up you. He laughs in disbelief as his arms snake around your waist, crushing you more tightly in his arms than he can bear. You giggle so sweetly when he does he thinks he might really be done for. His usual demeanor comes in easy, calm and collected but absolutely estatic.

"It sounds like a proposal." He mumbles, almost lovesick.

"We could get married but you have to ask my brother first."

Suo laughs brightly against your neck. "Be less casual about something like that," And then a little softer. "But yes, we'll stay together as long as you want."

He holds you like that a little bit longer.

[edges-of-night]

I love your headcannons, thank you very much. How do you think fellowship would react if a reader saw two cute animals and said, "Oh, it's you and me!"

Thank you very much! I’m happy to hear you enjoy this little blog ♡ Another animal request, with another anon who asked for this, too – this prompt is super cute, I hope I did it justice!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

You’re gazing at a golden twilight forest with Aragorn when you spot two deer in the distance. Just like you, one rests its head against the other. “Look,” you chuckle quietly, “it’s you and me.” Aragorn smiles as he follows your gaze. When one of the deer nuzzles the other’s ear, he, too, leans in to give you a kiss. “What an uncanny resemblance, my love,” he says and pulls you even closer.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir is scandalised when you suggest that the two cats crossing your path are “just like you and me.” He has heard stories of the ruthless Gondorian queen who used felines as her spies and flinches when one of the cats hisses at him. You go to pet it instead, and it softens and purrs – just like Boromir does when you caress him – but you don’t say that part out loud ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

You and Frodo share a cool carafe of strawberry lemonade when two butterflies flutter to the flower field beside you. “Look at those,” you say, “they’re just like you and me.” – “Sharing a delicious drink in the sunlight,” Frodo agrees with a dreamy smile. You keep watching the butterflies until one of them flies right into your face. “It gave you a kiss. I shall do the same,” Frodo says and leans in to peck you ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

You’re travelling the Shire’s hills in Gandalf’s wooden cart when two sparrows almost fly right into you. You flinch but realise they’re only doing their Spring dance through the morning air – a couple! “They’re like you and me!” you laugh. Gandalf gives you an amused look. “What a subtle way to tell me we’re going to dance at tonight’s party.” – “Indeed,” you grin.

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Watching the puppies play on the ground makes you soften. When one of them bites another’s ear, you playfully nudge Gimli’s head – he’s been sitting silently next to you until now. “What?” he grunts. “The dogs are doing it,” you argue with a grin. Your Dwarf protests at first about this comparison. The two of you, dogs? “I reckon it is true though,” he muses. “We are both very loyal after all. And we like food. And games. And…”

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

You’re making your way through Mirkwood with Legolas, crossing a tree over a small pond where you make a curious observation: “Look! The toad and dragonfly are sharing a lily pad.” You snort. “They remind me of you and me.” – “Indeed! The sunlight reflects on its wings just like in your eyes, in all the colours of the sky.” You blush and wonder whether or not Legolas knew you meant it the other way around.

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry is a bit sensitive about his height, but that doesn’t stop you from comparing the two of you to the horse and the pony you spot in Bree. “Hey! I’ll have you know,” Merry begins, “that ponies are very sturdy and resilient.” – “I know. Just like Hobbits.” – Merry pouts at that comment and crosses his arms, murmuring, “Fine. Just don’t braid my hair like that pony’s.” – “Perhaps…”

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

After a proper picnic, you lie in a meadow with Pippin. Purely by chance you look to your right when two bunnies scamper out of the bushes to eat some grass. You grin and whisper, “Don’t move too fast now, but there’s tiny versions of you and me over there.” – “Tinier than me?” Pippin asks and rolls over to watch the bunnies over your belly. “Aww! They’re mighty cute, but so are we!”

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

You watch fondly when two ladybugs crawl over Sam’s hands, dirty from gardening but still gentle to the bugs. You smile when you hear your Hobbit talking quietly: “Right. Let me get up… there you go… over here it’s safer for you. A flower house.” You tilt your head at him. “Moving in together? Just like the two of us, you mean?” – “Hm? What? Sorry, luv, I wasn’t listenin’ there.” – “Oh, nothing…” ♡

[ncroissant]

heya!!! i love your writing! everything is put together so beautifully.

could i please request a oneshot, or whatever you feel like writing, of chilchuk with an s/o that he constantly uses as a chair or to carry him on their shoulders? Either he decides to do this on his own or his s/o just does this out of nowhere lmao

i'd prefer if it's gender neutral and sfw, but if you can't do that it's totally fine!

thank you so much, sorry for bothering you!

chilchuck x gn! reader

summary: chilchuck's love language is using his s/o as a cushion (affectionately)

wc: 475

content warning: sfw, fluff, crackish

author's note: thanks u sm for the ask anon, this is literally so cute. fluff is not my forte, but i tried my best!! :) this kinda came out like a short little blurb instead of a one shot, but lmk if you want something longer!! i hope you enjoyed this!! not proofread

you didn't notice when he started doing this, but chilchuck had a habit of climbing onto you like a tree.

you didn't need to be as tall as laios to be taller than your half-foot boyfriend. he was around the height of your shoulder, which was apparently perfect climbing material for him.

"what...are you doing?" you winced as he used your hips as a ledge to maneuver his leg onto your shoulder, doing the same on your other.

"just, huff, tryna get on here," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your head. he shifted so he could sit more comfortably on your shoulders.

"there we go," he huffed, taking his nimble fingers off your face, wrapping them around your neck.

you chuckled, looking up at your boyfriend. "well, this is new," you smirked at the blush on his face. "someone's being a little clingier than usual."

"well, i'm your partner, so why can't i be clingy?" he grumbled, tugging at your ear menacingly.

you tried to swat him away as you laughed at his defensiveness. "i surrender," you put your hands up, waving your imaginary white flag. "you can be as clingy as you like, chil," you grabbed his ankle, venturing forth.

for the next few days, chilchuck would grow increasingly affectionate with you.

he'd curl up into your lap like a cat when the rest of the party would gather around the fire, food in hand. or sit on your lap while you read books like a little kid.

one of his favorite things to do was sit on your shoulders and measure his height against laios. "we're about the same height now," chilchuck sneered, measuring with his hand once more good measure.

"it's only because of them! you're usually down here, pipsqueak," laios argued, measuring his hand lower to chilchuck's natural height. chilchuck scoffed in response, pointing you away from laios.

"yeah, yeah, run away cause i'm right," laios chuckled, rolling his eyes.

once when you were fighting monsters, you'd instinctively scoop chilchuck in your arms, knowing he wasn't built for fighting. it would be muscle memory to just grab chilchuck at even a glimpse of danger.

"chil, over here!" you exclaimed from his left. when a mimic came racing towards him. he hopped into your arms and you whisked him away, while laios took care of it.

he'd never question it. something about you was so warm and comforting. he loved the plushness of your thighs and the sturdiness of your shoulders. everything about you made him feel safe.

he'd never let you know that though.

he'd just start doing whatever he wanted as long as it involved being with you. he'd trust you to save him from danger and you'd let him climb you whenever he pleased.

something about being with you made him feel like a little kid again.

[benkeibear]

⛧°。 ⋆༺ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 ༻⋆。 °⛧

𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 (𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠)

𝐷𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 (𝐴𝑠 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟)

༺ synopsis: during a seemingly idyllic weekend getaway with your fiancé, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to a mysterious lake of blood. As you plunge into its depths, you're rescued by a stranger whose presence is slightly unsettling but it marks the beginning of your new life.

༺ character: Choso

༺ reader: female | AFAB

༺ wc: 4757

༺ cw: implied hunting and blood drinking, description of drowning (but no one actually drowns)

༺ notes: I'm a little nervous posting this first chapter if we're being quite honest but here we go! I sincerely hope you guys enjoy this ride as much as I do - please let me know what you're thinking as well as theorize 🫶

MASTERLIST // -> Next chapter (coming soon) // Taglist

You've never experienced the feeling of coming home before setting foot onto the cobblestone ground of your weekend hideout, away from civilization - a beautiful small castle in the outskirts of a quiet village. Shaking the feeling off, you enter the bedroom with a small smile, the feeling now wrapping around you like a blanket and unable to ignore any longer.

"Is something wrong?" Your fiancé asked curiously, having seen the little shiver of your body upon crossing the threshold.

"A déjà vu, I think," you answered nonchalantly - perhaps a long forgotten childhood memory, you thought to yourself right after, but you've never been this far from home.

“A Déjà-vu?” Your lover questioned with one of his thin brows raised before his hand reached out to take your bag from you. It wasn't like your bag was heavy, but he couldn't bear to let the love of his life, his soon to be wife, carry anything more than the grace she emitted in every step.

“You know, I took it from you on the way up here for a reason, I don't need a man to do these things for me.” Your voice sounded playful, but your words were sharp, a small reminder of how he will share the rest of his life with a woman who is in no need of a man to provide for her, seeing a partner as not much more than a fun addition to her life. Yet this is what he wanted, to serve you, to make you happy and help you fulfill the dreams ahead of you in no regards to his own. You were simply the center of his universe, his own sun that he was circulating around.

“I know, love, but am I not allowed to spoil you rotten?” He asked and a coy smile formed on his lips, lashes batting as if he’s trying to convince you, that yes, this is indeed necessary. A small chuckle bubbled past your lips and you shook your head in defeat.

“I won't complain about getting spoiled a little,” you admitted and the smile lingered on your lips when you looked around the beautiful room like a curious cat.

“Is that a tree?!” You heard your fiancé exclaim excited, yet confused from the bathroom before you followed him into the tiny space to see what exactly he meant.

“Yeah, I think it is,” you mumbled as you looked at the huge branch of a tree that grew into the sturdy walls and out again on the other side of the corner. It looked like some of the stones had been removed to make this all possible and it made you smile some more before you went back to the bedroom of your little weekend suite. Plopping down on the bed, your face scrunched up upon hearing the unpleasant squeak of the mattress and were reminded of the luxury of your own bed back at home.

A little flyer on the bedside table caught your attention when you moved your head to the side on the scratchy pillow. With a curious expression, you picked up the piece of paper and flipped it around to get a quick look at it before starting to read about what this little castle has to offer. It was a typical tourist information, letting you know about the sights nearby as well as on the castle grounds.

“A botanical garden,” your fiancé's voice startled you out of your trance-like state.

“Hm?” You raised one eyebrow and turned the piece of paper in your hand to see what he was looking at - pictures of a tiny greenhouse next to a small lake caught your attention.

“Botanical garden?” You snorted amused, the greenhouse was barely big enough to fit more than four people, perhaps, but the lake was what's interesting - the water seemed to be blood red.

Rising up into a sitting position, you handed the paper to your fiancé, your eyes urgent as they found his.

“We need to go there!” You say almost serious, but the excitement was evident, which made him chuckle.

“Calm down. It's most likely just some bacteria that caused it to look red,” he tried to reason, not seeing why you're suddenly so invested in nature's goods.

“And? I could swim in blood!” You retort amused as you got up from the bed, the old mattress squeaking once again.

“You shouldn't. If it's a bacteria causing this, you might get sick or god knows - even worse,” he immediately said in a serious tone, the urgency ringing in every word of his, but you could only roll your eyes.

“Calm down. I'm not gonna swim in some random lake anyways,” your words came out defeated and you sat back down onto the bed, almost pouting like a little child.

“We can still look at it and the great botanical garden,” he offered with a silly smirk, his fingers forming quotation marks when he talked about the botanical garden. You only rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at his words, but nodded before pulling him down to join you on the squeaking bed, a laugh erupting from you when he only winced at the noise.

“Is this bed trying to tell us to lose weight or what's the deal?” He asked amused, the old springs almost poking his spine.

“Not entirely sure, but I'll be using you as my makeshift bed while we're here,” you mused and jabbed his chest with a single finger of yours.

“Poke me any harder and one of these springs might impale me,” your fiancé joked as he caught your finger right before another poke hit his defined chest.

The both of you stayed like this for a moment longer, eyes slowly tracing along the length of the thin veil of tulle that covered the bed like a canopy. It made you wonder if the ceiling might crumble down dust and small rocks whenever someone on the ground above was walking over it, but you quickly moved over to marvel at the details in the ceiling, cracks and ridges made you sink deeper into the daydream of what life here must have been like many decades ago.

“We should head out to the lake soon if you want to spend some time there before dinner,” your fiancé suggested as he slowly rose into a sitting position, elbows holding up his weight. It was his voice that pulled you out of a daydream, your brain buffering for a moment to fully comprehend his words before giving him the smallest of nods.

As you rose up from the old mattress, you could hear your back crunch in protest but paid no further attention to it when you held your hand out to your fiancé to help him stand up - not that he needed it, but it was just a kind gesture.

As he reached for your hand, he suddenly pulled you back down and on top of him, both of you erupting in a fit of laughter that seemed to bounce off the cold castle walls, making it even harder for you two to stop. It took a kiss to finally cease the seemingly endless fit of giggles, but as the kiss deepened, you forced yourself to pull away and shake your head.

Fuck, he looks so beautiful like this, you thought to yourself. His black hair against the white sheets like a black halo and his cheeks the softest shade of pink as his chest rose at a fastened pace. It was moments like these that took your breath away - just everyday, small domestic moments with him that had you topple over and fall in love all over again. It felt like a trance when you simply stared down at him, and he looked up at you with these dark puppy eyes as if you were the only star in his entire universe… but his lips were moving.

“What?” you asked confused, your vision slowly focusing back to reality and shifting out of your thoughts. You sounded so lost and almost dorky with the way your little what was half slurred, half squeaked. Your lover shook his head with a smile, a small chuckle breaking through.

“I asked if you trust me, my little daydreamer,” he mused and gently moved to hold both your hands as you still sat on top of him, playing around with them.

“Of course I do, why do you even have to ask?” You were almost hurt by that question, but he discarded it and pushed you off of him in a gentle, yet playful manner that had you bouncing and the bed squeaking. He didn't deem it necessary to explain anything as he rose to stand on top of the squeaky mattress, pulling you up with him.

“What are you doing?” You asked, having a hard time holding back a laugh when he started bouncing on the bed like a little child, holding onto your hands in hopes it would animate you to join him in his shenanigans - and it did.

Both of you were giggling and bouncing on the bed to make it squeak when he suddenly started moaning obnoxiously loud and far too pretentious, but you couldn't help but join in. It felt good to just fool around like this, swearing to yourself that yes, you're an adult in this moment, but once you two were out of breath, he helped you get off the bed and made sure you were steady and standing properly before letting go of your hands.

“What was that for?” you asked amused as you still tried your best to catch your breath.

“People should know that we're here on our pre-honeymoon, don't you think?” He asked with a boyish grin and gently combed his fingers through his shoulder length hair in an effort to detangle it from your previous activities. An overly exaggerated gasp left you and you gently hit his chest.

“Hand holding and eye contact before our marriage? Scandalous!” You exclaimed in amusement and shook your head in disbelief as both of you moved to get dressed to go outside into the crisp fall air. Just as you left, one of the maids walked past you, unable to look any of you in the eyes as she blushed and giggled. You didn't want to know what exactly she was thinking, given your pretentious little show just mere minutes ago. It left you feeling a little guilty and you too could feel the heat creeping up your neck as your lover only smiled proudly at the poor elderly lady.

“I don't even want to know what she was thinking,” you mumble on your way out of the small castle as you hold onto the biceps of your lover, hiding your face in his arm for a second or two in a shy manner.

“Probably that we're two young lovers who enjoy love and showing it to each other on a rather… physical level,” he explained with a grin, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You can just say - she was thinking that we just fucked - you know?” You retorted with a small jab to his ribs to make him laugh, which he did.

“But I would never simply fuck you. You deserve to be worshipped and made love to. Fucking is for wild animals,” he reflected and leaned into you so he could kiss your temple as you two slowly walked on the cobblestoned path away from the castle and towards the small, private forest area. You shouldn't think too much about his words, but it made you feel a certain way, the heat rising up inside of you as you thought back to all the times you were intimate with each other. He indeed never simply fucked you, he always made sure to put you before him and to make you feel valued, loved and well taken care of.

The path to the little greenhouse, or what they lovingly called it, the “botanical garden” was rather short and uneventful, cobblestones slowly turning into gravel until it was nothing but a mix of a few stray stones and packed mud.

“M'lady,” he exclaimed jokingly as he held open the glass door of the greenhouse so you may enter first. You smiled at him and gave him your best curtsy before ducking under his arm to enter the cramped space.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased him when he entered right after you, the air so moist it hit you like a wall. Both of you had to look around the colorful variety of flowers, herbs and greenery before actually walking around in the rather small space. As you marveled at the beautiful vines hanging down from the ceiling to your right, you were suddenly startled by a gasp and whipped your head around, clutching your chest in shock.

“I can't believe they have Kadupul flowers here!” Your lover exclaimed excitedly as he pointed at what looked to you like a bush of wavy, green leaves, which left you more confused than before.

“Kadu what flowers? It's just leaves?” You ask as you carefully walk over to where he was standing to get a closer look at the bush of leaves; perhaps the flowers were just so small you couldn't see them from five steps away. Yet, when you closed the small distance, there were still no flowers to be seen and you gave your fiancé a quizzical look, so he got his phone out.

“Kadupul flowers, Epiphyllum oxypetalum, also called Queen of the night,” he explained and showed you pictures of a beautiful white flower. The thin, white petals surrounding bigger petals that looked like they were forming a star in the middle looked quite dramatic but enchantingly beautiful to you. It made you take another look at the green bush in front of you.

“It's not in bloom right now. Actually, it's rare to ever witness the flower bloom,” he explained and marveled at the plant a while longer like a boy in a candy store.

“It only blooms at night and withers at dawn when the first rays of sunshine hit it,” he then continued and turned away from the plant with a heavy sigh that sounded more like he just went through heartbreak. Of course a flower this beautiful had such a dramatic blooming story, you thought to yourself and went to hold his hand, squeezing it a little.

“Maybe we could get one, then you can witness it in bloom,” you try to cheer him up with a small smile, but he only shook his head in return.

“It's one of the most expensive flowers to exist, it's almost priceless,” he mumbled and the sad look in his eyes signaled that he doesn't want to ponder on it much longer, so you let the topic go and slowly led him out of the possibly tiniest botanical garden you'll ever see.

“Let's go to the blood lake!” You quipped and dragged him towards where you assumed it would be, but he ripped his arm out of your grasp.

“Actually… it's that way,” he retorted and you simply stomped back and past him, grabbing his arm once again to drag him along, but in the right direction this time. After what seemed like an eternity due to your excitement, you finally arrived at a beautiful clearing. The grass was luscious with small daisies and clovers growing all over the clearing, and a small stone bench was perched up right next to the lake as well - it made you wonder if someone used to sit here and ponder over the world and what it had to offer.

“The statues look eerie,” your lover's voice ripped you out of your thoughts yet again and upon looking at the two statues at each side of the slim lakebed, you agreed to his conclusion.

Two huge gargoyle statues stood there, looking at each other as if they're making sure that those who dare to come close to, or go into the lake know that they're being watched.

“I feel a little bad… Who knows how long they've spent their days unloved and forgotten about?” You wonder out loud as you take a closer look at one of the two moss covered stone statues, your nose scrunching up at the amount of bird poop you discover once you were closer.

“You talk like these are graves… It's just statues, and I figure cleaning them in a forest isn't going to last long,” your fiancé tried to speak some sense into you, but you couldn't help the pang of guilt creeping up your heart. It simply felt wrong to see them neglected like this and you almost took offense to it. But he was right, you shouldn't get upset about these little things when you could instead bask in the beauty of the blood red lake right in front of you. The pictures truly weren't lying, the water looked dark red, as if hundreds of people had given their lives just to fill this pool for two bloodthirsty gargoyles.

“Do you think the gargoyles bled out humans to make the water look this red?” You turned around with a grin on your face as if you were telling a scary story at a campfire, which made the black haired man shake his head and laugh at your childish antics.

“I believe so, yes. Maybe you'll find their bones if you dive deep enough,” he mused back at you, encouraging your little storytelling, which made you gasp and giggle.

“I really want to look for them… but I'd probably end up as one of them. Who knows what bacteria lives in there,” you laughed softly and waved your hand in front of your face in a disgusted manner to get the air to freshen up. The water smelled horrendous, pungent and almost rotten - which only worked in favor of your little story. But as the old lanterns slowly flickered on, illuminating the gargoyles in a menacing glow that made you shiver, you decided it was time to head back inside, it was dinner time after all.

When you finally arrived at the dining hall of the little castle, you only ordered a small dish for yourself, the feeling of hunger ceasing more with every passing minute, a weird feeling of sadness spread inside of you and chased away any other feeling. It was a slow process, but you could feel it deep inside you like a small tree growing bigger and bigger - the seed of sadness was planted and should ruin your first evening here.

“Are you feeling sick?” Your fiancé asked concerned when you were only eating like a bird, picking around in your food and taking the smallest bites possible.

Not wanting to ruin his evening with the weird feeling that appeared out of nowhere, you simply nodded.

“I think it's the smell of that lake, my stomach feels funny,” you lie convincingly as you gently shove your plate across the table and towards him. Barely any food was missing and you gave him a sad smile.

“I'll excuse myself and go up already, yes? You asked and didn't wait for an answer before you rose to your feet and kissed his temple before almost speedwalking out of the dining hall and into your room, where you brushed your teeth and took a shower in hopes of shaking this feeling off.

The water was almost boiling hot, yet not hot enough as you aggressively lathered the soap on your body with the fresh loofah the hotel provided. Get clean. Get rid of this feeling. The urge to step outside of your skin grew as the water slowly lost its temperature, causing a string of curses to leave your lips while you shut it off entirely. Disgust, pain and homesickness. You were able to name the emotions blooming inside of you, which no longer felt like a seed, more like vines growing over your rib cage and making it harder to breathe every time your lungs let go of oxygen.

By the time you left the bathroom, your fiancé was back in the room and sat on the bed, a cloud of steam leaving the bathroom with you.

“You really don't look too well. Come here,” he offered lovingly and patted the mattress right next to where he sat.

“I'll play with your hair until you fall asleep, how does that sound?” He asked and sat further up on the bed so he could rest his back against the headboard while you got comfortable next to him, your head resting on his lap.

A small “thank you” left your lips when you wrapped one arm around his waist, holding onto his soft sweater as if he'd disappear any moment. With a sigh you finally closed your eyes, allowing yourself to rest with the hope of waking up in the morning and this weird feeling disappearing magically overnight.

However, waking up wasn't as peaceful as you hoped, suddenly raising yourself into a sitting position with a gasp of pure shock. Your heart was beating like a war drum, your ears blocking out almost all the noise except for the steady thumping of our heartbeat, your vision pulsating with every beat. The adrenaline fueled your body as memories of your restless dream appeared, the gargoyles watching your every move, and even now you couldn't shake this feeling.

Shaking hands reached for your lover, who fell asleep in his sitting position, but no amount of shaking got him to wake up, light snores assuring you that he is alive but sleeping far too deeply to help you calm down.

“Get a damn grip on yourself,” you mumbled more to yourself than anything else as you pulled his soft sweater over your head. The smell was intoxicating and grounded you, drowning you in the feeling of safety and home, but you needed to clear your head from the nightmare that woke you up.

You weren't even thinking as your feet walked you outside, no path in mind, perhaps rounding the tiny castle once or twice to let the cool air deep into your system to clear your mind from all these horrid images flooding your brain from the previous dream.

“What? Who's there?” You were scared when you heard your name getting called, hoping it was your lover who woke up in your absence and went looking for you, but you found absolutely no one.

The feeling of paranoia wouldn't shake, feeling like someone is watching over your shoulder and there it was again - your name. It sounded like someone was longing for you, needing you to come help them, to save them from whatever misery they felt. Bare feet now padded over the cobblestone path and then the gravel, which slowly turned to a muddy path as your speed picked up. Were you running towards the voice or away from it? You weren't sure since it sounded like it came from everywhere at once, its desperation growing with each call.

You didn't feel real in the moment, your body as light as a feather, yet your head seemed to weigh a hundred pounds when your heart beat drowned out everything - everything but that damn call of your name, which now turned into a luring whisper, one that dragged you closer and closer. It wasn't fear coursing through you, it felt hot instead, like you were getting closer to something you longed for ever since you remembered and your body seemed to move out of muscle memory, following a path you've walked a thousand times.

Wet. Was it the grass that felt cold against your feet, or was the morning dew kissing your skin? It couldn't be. It didn't make sense that the feeling spread through your body as if the sky decided to pour over you, drenching you to your bones in ice cold water… until breathing became harder, the feeling of vines growing over your rib cage returned once again, but this time the oxygen was leaving your lungs with no way of returning there.

It was water that replaced the air in your lungs with each breath and your vision unblurred, seeing seaweed sway gently next to your body, a single skull to your right on the sandy ground…

“I was right about the lake… There are bodies on the ground." Your thought almost amused you, feeling no threat despite your vision turning black when all oxygen disappeared from your lungs…

“What do we have here?” Your eyes fluttered open when you heard a familiar voice, yet it sounded foreign.

The full moon was bright, your eyes slowly looking at the man who held you at arm's length, a death grip on both your upper arms as he looked at you with hunger.

“Don't you know that swimming at night can be quite dangerous? Just floating in my lake,” he mused and his eyes raked over your body.

In the state of confusion, you didn't even notice how miserable you must have looked, your clothes soaked thoroughly with pungent lake water, yet he looked like he was about to take a bite out of you should you move too fast.

“Your lake?” you asked with a meek voice, croaking the words out, which amused him.

“Silly little girl, you don't even know what danger you put yourself in… I give you one chance to run,” he mused and let go of your arms, which only toppled you over.

The dew of the grass felt almost warm compared to the clothes you were wearing while you sat on the ground after falling so graciously onto your ass, trying to understand his words. The stranger spoke your language, but it felt like he was speaking an alien language. Run from what? I have a room in the castle just a few walking minutes from here. Your brain was racing through many scenarios in a split second until the sense of danger caught up to your tired brain. This man wasn't joking, he will hurt you. RUN!

Your legs felt like jelly, the effects of almost drowning you thought as you ran as fast as these unsteady legs would carry you. “HELP!” you screamed from the top of your lungs despite your throat straining, hoping someone would hear you and help you, but when you looked back to where the man stood, he was gone.

*Thump!* You got knocked back onto the ground after colliding with what you thought was a tree until you looked up, the fear spreading through every fiber upon gazing at this eerie smile.

“Got you,” the man hummed and pulled you back to your feet, causing you to freeze, paralyzing you entirely as you braced for whatever was about to happen.

He only chuckled as he moved one hand into your hair to grab a fist full, yanking your head to the side with force that felt like he was about to break your neck.

“Has no one told you that it's not safe out in the woods for pretty little women like you?” His voice was smooth like honey as he leaned in, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck, and he inhaled your scent.

His pupils dilated when your scent hit his nostrils, it was familiar, something he knew from a long time ago, so he hesitated. Sharp fangs rested on your skin instead of piercing it to drain you from your life essence.

With your eyes shut tight, you balled your hands into fists, mentally preparing yourself to get bitten by what you assumed to be either a weird pervert or a cannibal - nothing good either way, but that stinging feeling never came. Instead, his looming presence disappeared and once you opened your eyes, the sight was almost comical, if the situation wouldn't have been this dangerous.

A blonde man, much taller than the creep who wanted to take a bite out of you, held him by the neck like a soggy kitten before the blonde man threw him against a tree, causing the tree to fall over…what? You were perplexed upon seeing the other man stand up like he didn't just get thrown against a tree so hard, the huge tree trunk snapped.

“What are you waiting for? Run!” The blonde man called out to you quite angrily, snapping you out of the shell shock, but your legs barely carried you, letting you stumble away from the scene…

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[frost-queen]

Girl behind the glass window (Reader x Human!Damon Salvatore)

Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m,

“Catch.” – Stefan called out, throwing the ball over to Katherine. Hoisting up her skirt, she took a run for it, catching the ball before it landed on the ground. Nearly making her loose her balance. Stefan flinched, ready to catch her if she would fall. Katherine giggling loud. She moved the ball down with a mischievous laugh. – “I bet you won’t catch this.” – she said throwing the ball away. Damon had his eyes on the ball, seeing it immediately fly over his head.

Jogging after it in an attempt to catch it before he saw it get tossed over the hedge. It made him slow down, panting brief. – “Wonderful.” – he gestured out of breath. Katherine came joining Stefan’s side. – “Well go on. Fetch it.” – she ordered with a motion of her hand. 

Damon looked over his shoulder to her. – “You serious?” – he asked to be sure since she was the one who threw the ball over the hedge. Katherine hummed loud with a nod of her head. Damon glanced over to his brother, who only shrugged his shoulders to him. Sighing loud, he started to make his way to the hedges.

“Do hurry up!” – Katherine called out, waving him goodbye. That made Damon sigh again, grabbing the hedge to climb over it. Grabbing onto greenery and sturdy branches to get across. Annoyed he puffed the leaves out of his face as they had come really close. With a few good pulls, was he at the top.

Letting himself roll over the hedge, disappearing out of sight. Losing his balance and grip, he tumbled down. Landing with a loud thud on his back. Making him groan chucklingly out of pain. Getting up to his feet, he brushed his pants clean. Removing all traces of ground and hedge. His gaze fell on the enormous garden.

Trees perfectly cut into shape. Up a head a fountain. Looking around for the ball, he went over to the fountain. Scooping a hand in to splash some water in his face. Patting his wet hand in his neck, he caught something in the corner of his eye. Up by the window from the mansion a few yards away. He saw the last of a curtain ripple, hinting someone must have been watching a second earlier.

It made Damon swallow nervously. Knowing very well he was trespassing. Backing away from the fountain, he brought his gaze down again. Searching low for the ball. Eyes not missing a thing. With his hand, he pushed into one of the trees, to see if the ball wasn’t caught in it. – “Where are you?” – he whispered out desperate.

Knowing each second longer spend here, was the more opportunity for the owner to come out and hold a riffle up to him. He had drifted away from the hedge he had crawled over. Knowing Katherine was waiting impatiently. Damon was close to just give up and return before he would get shot, when he heard knocking. Knocking on a glass window that caught his attention.

It was subtle. Not the loud thumping kind that would alarm him to take a run for it. More a soothing knock to get his attention. Damon turned around, facing the mansion. Furrowing his brows, he saw nothing but curtains closed behind the only available window in sight. Looking away, he scratched his head confused.

There it was again. Gentle knocks to catch his attention. He immediately turned around, seeing the last of the curtains ruffle. With a quizzable brow, he went over. Keeping himself low and out of sight. He neared the window in crouched position. Kneeling down under it as his gaze fell on the bush beneath the window.

There in its full glory was the ball that got tossed over. Intrigued, picked Damon the ball up. Someone clearly must have called his attention over to this place for him to find the ball. But who? Moving his gaze up, Damon got startled, seeing a pair of curious eyes peek through the curtains.

His reaction made the curtains move shut. Probably having scared the poor person. – “No, no…” – Damon whispered waving his hands across as he didn’t mean to startle them. He waited for the person to appear once more. When they didn’t, dared Damon to gently knock on the window at his side.

Two gentle knocks to get their attention. He waited a few more seconds before the curtain got moved aside. Just a bit for him to make out half a face. A sweet face. Clearly a girl. Damon showed you his sweetest smile, wanting you to reveal more of you. His smile made you smile bashful back, looking shyly down. Damon waved at you, hoping you’d become more comfortable with him.

You moved the curtains more aside, revealing you fully to him. You sat by the window, waving shyly back at him. Damon pointed at the ball under his armpit, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to you. You moved your hand to your chest. With one nod, you gestured to him it was alright. Damon curled up a smile, unable to look away from you.

“Do you want to play along?” – he asked, seeing how you furrowed your brows to focus on his wording through the glass. His words deafened out. As a response, you shook your head saddened. Damon’s gaze widened with shock as he saw you flinch. Look clearly to your side. Then your hands motioning for him to get away before the curtains got pulled closed.

Damon got up, stumbling back as he knew he’d be discovered if he’d stay. He started running back to the hedge. Throwing the ball over it, hearing his brother complain in pain. Probably the ball had hit his head. Followed by Katherine’s laughing. Damon grabbed onto the hedge, pulling himself up to get over. Swinging his leg over it, he lowered himself on the other side.

Jumping the last height down. – “Took you long enough.” – Katherine said unamused, faking a yawn. – “Couldn’t find it.” – Damon replied picking up the ball. The three of them started to move away from the hedge, more into Katherine’s garden. Damon tossed the ball to his brother. – “Do you know who lives over there?” – he asked Katherine curiously.

“Some rich grumpy man. I believe his name is Y/l/n.” – Katherine answered plainly catching the ball from Stefan. Katherine tossed the ball back to Damon. – “Does… does he have a daughter?” – Damon then asked, having caught the ball. Katherine shrugged her shoulders. – “If he did, I have never seen her.” – was her simple response. Damon nodded thoughtfully, clearly with his head elsewhere.

“Why do you ask?” – Katherine said curious. – “Nothing for.” – Damon replied, tossing the ball over to Stefan once more. – “Did you run into him?” – Stefan questioned. – “No luckily I didn’t.” – Damon responded. Stefan threw the ball back at Damon as he did no effort to catching it. Simply letting it drop to the ground as he started moving. – “I’m done playing.” – he said walking off. Katherine and Stefan looking confused at each other.

You narrowed your eyes confused, seeing a ball fly over the hedge. Not a moment later the same boy from yesterday climbing over the hedge. This time the ball was out in the open. Very obvious to see. The boy landed on his feet, looking anxiously around. He then jogged over to the ball, picking it up. You expected him to just go back over the hedge, when he came jogging over to the window you sat the day before.

Knowing you weren’t sitting there anymore, you knocked loudly on the glass. He froze, gaze towards your knocks. You waved shyly at him seeing a smile curl up. He came jogging over to the window you sat by. Coming to sit on his knees in the grass. He held his hand up, waving at you. He moved his hand down to his chest. – “I’m Damon.”  - he said loud, exaggerating in his words. He then gestured to you.

Chuckling shyly at his reaction, you pressed your hand on your chest. – “Y/n!” – you responded. Damon furrowed his brows, trying to distinguish your words. – “Y/n!” – you repeated, spelling your name onto the glass. Letter per letter for him to know. – “Y/n?” – he asked to be certain as you could see your name form on his lips. Nodding excitingly that he got it right.

“Can you come out?” – Damon asked with gestures. For a moment, you were happy. Chest moving forwards in joy till your joy faltered. Being reminded of your restrictions once more. Shoulders slouching down, you shook your head pitiful. – “Can you open the window?” – Damon asked. – “I’ll come in.” – he pointed at the glass, making you widen your eyes frantically. Shaking your head, you waved your hands across. – “Is… is your father home?” – Damon said curious.

He saw you look over your shoulder, gazing into the distance, before looking back at him with a nod. Damon pressed his hands against the glass with a sorrowful expression. You held a finger up for him to wait. He watched you leave, returning with a notebook. Sitting back down, you started scribbling on the paper. It was better than shouting against the glass. You surely didn’t want to alarm your father.

You held the notebook up to the glass for Damon to read. ‘I’m not allowed out.’ It read. – “Like ever?” – Damon questioned as you wrote down underneath your previous words. ‘ever.’ Was your response, holding it up to him once more. – “Why?” – Damon asked. Damon watched you write more. Hesitantly holding the notebook up to the glass once more. ‘Dangerous world.’ – it read. Damon looked in shock at you. – “He… he surely can’t keep you locked up forever.” – he said out loud. You only pulled your shoulders up to your known reality.

You heard footsteps, knowing it would be your father. The panic was clear on your face as Damon picked up on it quickly. He got up, nearly tripping backwards over his own stumbling. In a last second he threw the ball back into the bushes just underneath the window before running off. You watched him sprint back to the hedge, climbing over it with such effort, he made it over the top in a matter of moments.

“What are you doing by the window again!” – your father declared loudly. – “Aren’t I even allowed to look outside?” – you asked coming to stand before him. Your father moved around you, shutting the curtains closed. – “You may think I’m mad, but it is a dangerous world out there Y/n. It is best for you to stay here, where you are save and I can protect you.” – he spoke pushing you slightly away from the window. – “It is not save for a girl of your status to be out. Out where men want to harm you.” – your father continued. – “Because of you?” – you responded, shocked by yourself that you dared to go against him.

His expression angered. He grabbed you firm by the shoulder, dragging you away from the window. He dragged you all the way up to your room, locking you inside. Exhaling deep, you were once greeted by the same four familiar walls. Locked inside, just because your father had made a terrible mistake so many years ago.

Now he is haunted by the thought anyone of his previous co-workers would come and get revenge by hurting him or you. Even moving away, didn’t do anything to his fear. The sheer panic he had that his old workers would venge his cruel work conditions he put them through. The death of the little boy under his care, that shouldn’t even be there didn’t make it easier.

Damon wasn’t able to return within the next few days. He couldn’t shake his brother and Katherine off him. Having never been able to stop thinking about you. About the girl locked in her mansion. Each day he yearned to see you smile once more. Finally he had the time to climb back over the hedge when Stefan and Katherine were out. Stefan needing to accompany their dear friend on a matter.

Damon should be accompanying her too if it wasn’t for him faking that he didn’t feel so well. It took a lot of convincing for Katherine to stop bugging him about it. Now having crawled back over the hedge, he snuck right to the window where he had dropped his ball. He knocked gently on the window. Only to not hear a response.

He knocked again, thinking he might have not knocked loudly enough for you to hear. Scratching his hair confused, he started to look around. Looking at more window, to find your presence. Moving a bit back, his attention got drawn upwards. Looking up, he saw you knock saddened against your window glass.

Damon curling up a smile. You knew you couldn’t be close, so you turned around. Damon breathed loud, looking quickly around. Seeing some vines grow upwards to your window, made him reckless. He dropped the ball, running over to it. Grabbing tightly onto the vines to find a sturdy grip. It seemed to carry his weight as Damon started to climb up. Holding yourself, you hated being in the same room day in and out.

You wished to be outside. To feel the grass underneath your feet and the sun on your face. You wanted to feel the rain, get cold, warm and run endlessly without any walls holding you down. A desperate knock made you jump out of your skin. Turning round, you saw Damon pop up at your window. Motioning to you to get the window open quickly.

Panicking that he might fall, you rushed up to him. Opening the window in a haste. – “Lords Damon, are you insane?” – you called out, grabbing for his arm so he wouldn’t fall. Damon only chuckled, pulling himself more up. With the help of you, he tumbled into your room, making you move back.

He breathed out a laugh, relieved to have made it inside. – “Damon if my father sees you.” – you outed, keeping your voice low but with enough power to frighten him. Damon got up, walking up to you. Hesitantly he moved his hands out. Letting them fall on your shoulders with a smile. His touch made you blink surprised. – “Y/n.” – he said, wanting to speak your name. – “You shouldn’t be here.” – you told Damon, punching him in the armpit.

He rubbed the area. – “Neither should you.” – he responded. His words made your eyes widen, moving away from him. Knowing there wasn’t anything you could do about it. You walked up to the window, placing your hands on the windowsill. – “How… how come you aren’t allowed outside?” – Damon asked.

You breathed in deep, not even sure you remembered the last day you were outside. – “My… my father…” – you started unsure if you should continue. Damon started to come near as you started to explain. Explain what happened what made your father paranoid into staying inside.

Damon came placing his hands on the windowsill as well. Slowly letting his fingers spread to you. Till his pink came in contact with yours, guiding the rest of his fingers over yours. His little gesture, made you turn your head to him. The way he was looking at you, made your heart thump louder. – “I am sorry.” – he said, keeping his hand above yours. – “Don’t be…” – you answered, not wanting any pity.

For a moment, you were caught in his gaze. Mindless staring into his blue diamond eyes that bewitched you. Damon’s gaze went briefly from your eyes to your lips. Wondering what they would taste like. What it would be like to kiss those sweet innocent lips. Footsteps coming up the stairs, made you pull your hand from underneath him. Ushering him back out of the window.

You watched as Damon climbed down, taking his ball with him. Waving him goodbye, you kept watching till he was over the hedge. Damon was panting loud, looking up to the sky from Katherine’s side. – “I’ll get you out Y/n. One day.” – he said as a promise.

From then on dared Damon to danger himself frequently just to visit you. Climbing up to your room to spend time with you. Most days, you just talked. Some days, he would take your hand and lead you into a dance. The moments were brief, but never enough. He wanted you close, every day. Each moment spend with you, made him realize just how much in love he was with you.

The forbidden girl behind the glass. One day, Damon was in your room. Seeing how a bad day you were having. Sitting on your bed whilst staring into the distance. Damon would approach you, holding his hand out to you. Turning your head, you stared at his hand without any thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand in his. Allowing him to pull you up.

Damon came standing beside you, keeping your hand up. Having placed his palm against it. Slowly he started to turn, forcing you to turn along. Placing a hand on your lower back, he spun you around. Making you chuckle as you had tried to hold it in. Damon smiled from hearing you laugh, wanting to hear that sound every day. So caught up in your dance, you didn’t hear the footsteps.

You didn’t hear your father come up till it was too late. He barged into the room, panting loud. His eyes flashed with anger at Damon. He started to make his way over as you jumped in front of Damon. Your father pushed you aside. You dropped to the floor out of breath. – “Y/n!” – Damon called out with worry. – “I had a feeling someone was sneaking in my garden!” – your father called out.  

“You’re here to kill my daughter?” – your father shouted in a panic. – “Father, father please.” – you begged him to leave Damon alone. Your father left the room as Damon rushed over to you. Helping you up to your feet. – “Y/n we’ve got to go.” – he said as you panicked. – “No!” – you called out a Damon kept pushing you towards the window. – “Y/n it isn’t save.” – Damon made clear, holding both your shoulders.

Your father had returned, holding up the riffle. It made you gasp loud. – “Father no!” – you screamed out as he readied it at Damon. – “You are dead!” – he shouted ready to fire as Damon jumped at him. Surprised him by grabbing the riffle and pointing it upwards. You screamed loud when a shot got fired directly up in the ceiling.

Some dust and pieces falling down. – “Y/n climb down!” – Damon ordered you, fighting off your father for control for the riffle. Another shot fired directly to the wall not far from you. – “Y/n now!” – Damon shouted with worry that you might be the next undeliberate target. Crying loud, you climbed out of your window, grabbing onto the vines.

You heard your father shout loud, followed by commotion. You didn’t had to see anything, knowing they were fighting. The last few meters you dropped to the ground, arms unable to carry you any longer. Falling onto the ground, you looked up with panic. The hearing of another shot made you flinch. Not sure who it had hit, you screamed it out in agony.

“Y/n get up!” – you suddenly heard. Opening your eyes, you saw Damon hurry himself down. Shocked, you stared at him, unable to grasp what had happened. If he was here, they that meant your father was shot? He jumped the last part down, hurrying over to you. Pulling you up in a haste. – “We have to go Y/n.” – he said, dragging you along to the hedge. – “My… my father…” – you said, hand extended to your home.

From out of the window appeared your father. Panting loud, but he seemed unharmed. – “Give me back my daughter!” – your father shouted swinging his fists around. Damon and you got to the hedge as he gave you an assist to climb over. You tumbled over as Damon gave you a little push to make it go faster. Landing on your stomach on the other side.

Damon jumped beside you, dropping through his knees. Dusting his hands off he took you by the elbow, pulling you along. Leaving in a haste. He kept running till he was out of breath. Not wanting your father to go over the wall to find you.

Both of you were panting loud. Gazes catching each other. Damon neared letting his hand brush against your cheek. – “You’re out Y/n.” – he said. It took you a moment to realize. Looking around you to actually see your feet stand in grass. Damon lifted your chin up to him by his finger. Wanting you to look at him. Never had he lost sight of what he wanted.

You. Having missed you deeply. Each day apart from you, was a torment. Having found love where it wasn’t supposed to be. Letting his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. You intentionally neared, closing your eyes as Damon’s lips touched yours. First gently. A simple touch till they parted your mouth to deep the kiss. Finally having broken the girl behind the glass from her tower. To finally have her for a lifetime to love and to hold.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[rapturously]

twenty minutes.

➾ pairing ; mickey altieri x fem!reader.

in which mickey sneaks into your dorm room and things become more heated than usual.

format: drabble — not requested.

word count: 2.5K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), risk of getting caught, slight corruption kink, fingering (f!receiving), making out, biting, dry humping, dirty talk, mild degradation (use of slut), choking, obsessive behavior from Mickey, begging, teasing, finger sucking, very slight edging, ambiguous ending

author’s note: I wrote this because I love Mickey and I want to write a part 2 with phone sex 💀 also, first time ever writing for him, so hopefully it’s good and people enjoy it! I am also working on requests, but I’m also on-call for work, so I get pretty busy. Hoping to have a lot of stuff finished & posted next week! thank you all for your love & support !!! :)

Mickey Altieri reminded you of a cat — elusive, cunning, and prone to climbing trees without much of a hindrance. The thick, sturdy oak that hovered by your window in the Delta Zeta House provided a place for your boyfriend to scuttle about, thumping a palm against the glass pane of your window.

He had a look in his eyes when you caught sight of him — devious and full of desire, glazed over with a sheen of mischief. It’s coupled with that pearlescent grin as you clamor toward your window, swiftly unlatching it as you glance over your shoulder. Your roommate is in the shower, a worthwhile time for him to come crawling in.

His timing is always impeccable.

This nightly ritual of him sneaking into your room is always accompanied with a giddiness and thrill. His dark tresses are disheveled, sporting a dark sweater that clings to his musculature. He climbs through with a silent grace, reaching for you before you can open your mouth.

“I’m doing all of the work here,” Mickey smirks, pressing a string of kisses along your jaw. “When are you going to climb through my window?” He questioned, tone playful as could be as his hands roughly pressed into your hips.

You and Mickey were still in this honeymoon stage of your relationship, where everything was glowing and bright, with sparks always flying in every direction. He oozes charm and charisma with every breath, and it never fails to pull you right in. He was becoming your addiction — your vice.

Sandalwood and bergamot cling to him as he sighs, hunching in over you as his mouth nips at your jugular. It elicits a low, simpering whine from you, serving as encouragement as Mickey turns that playful nip into a brief, rough bite. You taste saccharine underneath his tongue.

“I can’t climb a tree,” You protest, fingers curling into the front of his woolen sweater. “You have twenty minutes.” You huff, knowing that your roommate won’t be in the shower forever. It’s always the same heated routine — kissing until your lips are swollen, his hands grabbing your breasts, he leaves a hickey, and then he disappears.

Mickey groans into your sweet flesh, teeth idly grazing over your neck. “I want more than twenty minutes,” He uttered, peering down at your choice of wardrobe. It’s a ditzy nightgown that reminds him of summertime, speckled in hundreds of little flowers. He pinches the fabric between his fingers. “It’s not enough.”

“Kiss me, Mickey.” You mumble, a soft gasp tearing past your parted lips when he delivered a rather passionate kiss, open-mouthed with a desperate bout of tongue. He tugs at your nightgown, calloused fingertips tracing across the bare flesh of your thigh.

He was a dutiful boyfriend — eccentric and charming, a natural flirt with an obscene amount of wit. You adored that about him, but above all, you loved how much he spoke about you to other people. Mickey had this thing about staking his claim, and you weren’t about to tell him otherwise.

You can’t see it now, but there is a darkness festering inside of him. It’s always just at the forefront of his lascivious gaze, as if it might lash out and strike you. Mickey’s obsession with you transcended any normalcy, perceived as erratic and strange, but thankfully, you are none the wiser to his impulsive tendencies.

He loves your oblivious nature — it’s easier to control you that way.

Goosebumps form along the column of your spine, prickling along your body as his fingers slip underneath your nightgown, trailing along the waistband of your panties. He’s always teased you, but something feels different this time — it’s electrifying and exhilarating as he pets at your soft skin.

As your lips part, you stare at him incredulously, attempting to decipher his next move. “We can’t,” You protest, though it’s weak and lacking any sincerity. Your roommate, whilst prone to taking endless showers, won’t stay put forever. “Mickey.” You whisper.

“Why not?” He purred, teeth nicking your neck, which caused you to let out a soft gasp. Mickey’s lips soothed the bite with passionate kisses, tongue swirling over the newly-formed mark. “You going to stop me?” His lips curl into a faint smirk.

His laughter is delicious, alluring and full of a teasing mockery, one that causes goosebumps to coalesce along your spine. Mickey keeps it hushed, but you won’t be heard, not over the buzz of Duran Duran from your roommate’s radio.

His digits slip beneath the waistband of your panties as he hurriedly parts your legs, rucking your nightgown up towards your hips. “Maybe,” You squeak, voice barely above a hushed whisper. Mickey’s spindly digits playfully trace over your cunt, declining to touch your clit. “M—Mickey!”

You sputter, clinging to him like a drowning woman, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater as he swipes his fingers along your wet cunt. He’s devilishly enticing, and if you closed your eyes, you could envision his forked tail and silver tongue that continued to seduce you time and time again.

“This says otherwise,” Mickey’s tone has a playful edge of mockery to it as he kisses your jaw, unable to withhold the salacious expression that creeps onto his features. He revels in the way you whimper, hips jolting forward into his hand in an attempt to relieve even a lick of friction. “Want me to stop?”

He’s cruel.

Your pitiful, desperate expression screams for him to continue as you shake your head back and forth a hundred times over. “No, no!” You whisper, moaning when his thumb lightly traced over your clit. “Jesus, please don’t stop!” Your volume becomes heightened, and at that, Mickey decides to conceal it.

Mickey chuckles — it’s a dark and dangerous sound, but that’s why he has you so hooked to begin with. That aura of dominance emerges so quickly, and you’re enthralled, powerless to stop him. “You need to be quiet.” He cautioned, feeling you grab his wrist as you encourage him to keep going.

He does, much to your delight, fingers deftly tracing along your slit, drinking in the softness and wet warmth, thumb drawing circles around that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing at all, yearning for the sensation of his practiced digits.

A hapless whine leaves your lips when Mickey begins to test your limits, two fingers nudging at your entrance. It’s sluggish and teasing as he deliberates, gaze roving over your countenance. “You think about me when you touch yourself?” He questioned, mouth ghosting over yours as he pressed a string of kisses there, and then to your jaw.

Embarrassment rippled through you at the crass question, prompting your boyfriend to stop pleasuring you. Any sensations ceased, and made you moan in protest. “H—Hey,” You whimpered. “Mickey, baby, please don’t stop.” You groaned, feeling his hand lightly clasp around your throat.

“Answer me, and maybe I’ll keep going.” He chuckled, head cocked to one side. His muscled form loomed over you, casting a shadow across your body, moonlight swallowed whole. Mickey appeared predatorial and hungry in this light — ravenous for you.

“Y—Yes, I do, I — I think about you.” You mumbled, and to your relief, his thumb returned to your clit with a feather-light pressure. You rucked your hips forward with desperation, chasing after his hand. You were flustered to no end, burying your face into his chest, which he promptly stepped away from.

“Jesus,” Mickey sighed, drinking in your smitten expression. “You look so pretty like this.” At that, he sank forward, digits nudging their way inside of your cunt. Tightness followed, consumed by liquid heat as he began to piston his fingers in and out of your slit.

Another wave of goosebumps coalesced along your flesh, making you tense with excitement as Mickey gripped your throat with his other hand. Fingers squeezed underneath your jaw, applying pressure as he bit at your lip, surprisingly rough, hard enough to draw blood.

A startled gasp tore past your mouth, accompanied by a keening moan as Mickey found a rather vigorous rhythm. His practiced digits pumped in and out of your tight cunt, coated in your slick as this thumb brushed over your clit. Your body reacted in a violent fashion, desperately clamoring forward, friction electrifying.

The shower was still running, and you were awash with pleasure, cunt clenching around his fingers as he withdrew another moan from you. Mickey loved feeling your throat bob and tighten underneath his grasp, tracing the pad of his thumb above your pulse point. It was racing — beating at the speed of sound.

Molten heat pooled within the pit of your stomach as Mickey callously lapped at the blood coalescing along your lower lip, noticing the sheen of surprise within your eyes. “Doesn’t bother me,” He uttered, kissing you again with a force that made your head spin. “Tastes like you.”

Jesus — if it weren’t for your roommate, you would’ve been screaming. Your entire being ached for him in every way imaginable, hands grasping at his sweater. Mickey turned you around, pressing your knees into your mattress as he deftly felt his way around your body.

“Fuck, I wanna be inside of you.” Mickey snarled, brazenly biting at the dip between your neck and shoulder, having tugged your nightgown into all sorts of directions. His erection was prevalent, grinding against the curve of your ass as he pistoned his fingers in and out of you. “Would you let me?”

It all felt so quick, just heat and carnality, desire that had all rolled into an amalgamation of want. You hadn’t gone all the way yet — part of you wanted to save it for a time where your roommate wasn’t a few feet away.

“M—Mickey,” You whimpered, hips rolling and jolting into his hand, palms grasping at his bicep and forearm, something to steady you. “Please, please don’t stop!” Everything felt so feverish, as if you were trapped in some thick haze, unable to break free.

Mickey huffed, countenance etched with a playful disdain as he nibbled along the shell of your ear. “Would you let me fuck you right here?” He asked again, more pointed and aggressive this time, accompanied by a harsh flick against your clit.

Your head bobbed up and down over and over again in a series of indiscernible babbles and nods. “Yes! Y—Yes, Mickey,” You might’ve said it over and over again, back arching as he began to curl his digits into you, right into a spot that made your bones turn to dust. “M’close!” A desperate whine left you.

His cajoling laughter made the hairs along the back of your neck stand up, thighs rubbing together. “Course you would,” Mickey murmured, kissing at your neck, attempting to give you another hickey, something that he succeeded in. “You’re my little slut.” The sudden degradation made you bristle.

Admittedly, you shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as you did, squirming and writhing against him as he toyed with your clit. You moaned, fingers clamping down into his arm so hard that you were afraid of leaving bruises. Mickey didn’t slow or stop, continuing that same, brutal pace as he brought you to your climax.

His hot, labored breathing fanned across your neck and shoulder, causing you to shiver as he grinded himself against you. The rough denim made contact with your haunch, content to rut against the curve of your ass. Mickey knew you were close, and with another steady barrage of digits, you shuddered.

You were drowning in a white-hot ecstasy, reduced to a sticky, whimpering mess at the hands of your boyfriend, whose grin was etched into the back of your neck like a brand. Mickey let you ride it out, spasming and mewling, hoping to let it simmer before your roommate finished her shower.

Mickey caressed circles into your clit, feeling your knees wobble, thighs quivering as you trembled like a leaf, rocking back against him. He was akin to the cat who’d caught the canary, pearlescent teeth glittering through the dim light as he slowly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt.

“Mickey,” You sighed, feeling him nudge you, coaxing you to turn around as he sat you down against your mattress. There was something vulnerable and exhilarating about it all as he loomed over you, head cocking to one side. “That was amazing.”

He smirked — a haughty, salacious smirk that made your insides turn to mush, heat pooling between your legs once more. “I’m not done just yet, sweetheart.” Mickey crooned, reaching forward to squeeze on either side or your jaw. “Open for me.”

An innocuous confusion fluttered across your features, and he drank it in — you were so innocent, so pious that Mickey fed from it. He watched in silent rapture as you opened your mouth, and again, his smarmy, playful grin was prevalent as he placed his digits upon the flat of your tongue.

A swarm of saliva began to pool within your mouth, a whimper erupting from the depths of your throat. You knew what Mickey wanted, and you elected to obey, able to taste the remnants of your orgasm.

Shyly, you began to suck on his fingers, watching the way his countenance blossomed to life with an insidious desire. “Good,” Mickey purred, placing his other hand against the back of your head, cradling your skull as he urged you closer. “Should’ve brought my camera.”

That comment alone forced you to press your thighs together, and your boyfriend, ever the watchful and observant creature, took notice. Through the dim light of your bedroom, he was as coy and cajoling as the Cheshire Cat, slipping his fingers down your tongue.

“Would you like that?” His voice contorted into something else — malefic and low. You barely noticed the lack of static noise as your roommate turned the shower off. “Should I film us together next time? Might make for an interesting movie.” Mickey uttered.

A familiar heat thrummed against your ribcage, slipping through the cracks as it rippled across your body. You suddenly realized that your roommate had finished her shower, and Mickey hadn’t moved a muscle — he knew. A whimper threatened to break free from your chest, hands tight and fisted within your lap.

When footsteps began to inch closer, Mickey took his fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with his lips as he kissed you. You exhaled, sharp and excitable, reaching for his chest again. It was hot and crackling with tension, even still. His erection pressed against your inner thigh.

“Next time, I’ll sneak over.” You murmured, feeling his lips curl into a grin as he pressed a string of kisses against your neck. As Mickey began to slink away, you grabbed his arm, staring at him with doe-like eyes. “We’ll have more than twenty minutes next time.”

Mickey smirked, beginning to climb out of your window and back onto the boughs of the oak. “I’m counting on it.” He chimed, and began to scale the tree back down and into the darkness. You watched him go, chest tight with the sensation of yearning.

Unbeknownst to you, Mickey intended on making a phone call tonight — and you were set to be the star.

[advisorykitty]

luther x solitary animalperson reader that lives in the woods pls........could be platonic or romantic doesnt matter....teehee......

Falling head over heels

ˡᵘᵗʰᵉʳ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

The woods were your sanctuary—deep, quiet, and far from the unpredictable chaos of other beings. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, especially the human variety, but you tolerated the occasional drifters. After all, even Robert, the ratman, had wandered through once, starving. You’d shared food with him. You didn’t hate him like the others did. But still, people were best kept at a distance.

Today, however, you weren’t exactly alone.

Luther, with his unnatural gait and emotionless face, was strolling through the forest again. He was hard to pin down—he seemed human at first glance, but something about him didn’t quite fit. You’d heard the rumors about him: supposedly Randal’s brother, caretaker of a bunch of weird creatures, and someone who had been bitten by a dog-man and turned into something… else. Luther was a bit of a legend, even out here in the woods.

You couldn’t help yourself. Curiosity got the better of you, and now you were stalking him. Well, sort of. More like observing from a distance.

With a soft huff, you perched yourself high in a tree, your tail flicking idly behind you. From up here, you could see everything. Luther was ambling around below, hands clasped behind his back, occasionally looking up at the trees. You tensed every time he glanced in your direction, praying he hadn’t spotted you.

For the most part, Luther seemed preoccupied. He muttered softly to himself in German every now and then—something about water, or sleep, or how he still needed to decorate his house for Christmas despite it being the middle of the year.

Weird guy.

You leaned back against the sturdy branch and watched him silently. This wasn’t the first time you’d stalked someone through the woods, but Luther was a whole new challenge. There was something about him that was unnervingly calm. Even when a branch cracked under his foot or when he accidentally startled a squirrel, his face remained completely neutral. No panic, no anger—nothing.

Just… blank.

You grinned to yourself.

Freaky.

But you weren’t about to let him know you were there. You were good at this—blending in with the trees, keeping your breathing quiet, your movements subtle. Not even Nyen, that arrogant catman with his sharp eyes and big mouth, could catch you half the time.

Well, except for that one time you got into a fight with him. You were perched up in a tree, minding your own business, when Nyen had decided to climb up after you. It didn’t take long for you two to start throwing insults and punches—he thought he was so tough. You’d almost knocked him out of the tree, but in the end, you both landed on the ground, hissing and growling like a couple of alley cats.

You smirked at the memory. Idiot.

But Luther? He was different. You couldn’t quite figure him out. And for some reason, that made you want to keep watching him.

Unfortunately, the tree had other plans.

The branch beneath you groaned softly, and before you could react, it gave way completely. You plummeted toward the ground, but years of surviving in the woods had honed your reflexes. You twisted in the air, landing on all fours with a soft thud, your limbs bending gracefully under the impact.

You straightened up, dusting yourself off, and silently prayed that Luther hadn’t seen—

“Ah, guten Tag.” His voice was gentle, like he wasn’t at all surprised to see you drop out of the sky. “Falling from trees now, are we?”

You froze, mid-brush, as Luther’s blank face turned toward you. His expression didn’t change—he didn’t smile, didn’t frown. Just stared at you like he’d been expecting this the whole time.

Your ears twitched in annoyance. “Wasn’t falling,” you muttered. “It was… a tactical descent.”

Luther blinked once, slowly. “Right. Of course. A tactical descent. How silly of me to assume otherwise.”

You felt heat rising in your cheeks, though you weren’t sure why. You’d faced down worse than this—a handful of hunters, an angry Nyen (on multiple occasions)—but something about Luther’s calm, flat response made you feel like an absolute idiot.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, turning your back to him. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Walking,” Luther said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He glanced down at his arm, flexing it a little. “Making sure I’m not... bitten again.”

“Again?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He nodded, as though this was a normal part of his life. “Yes. Last time I was out here, a dog-man bit me. Very unpleasant. I’ve been… cautious, ever since.”

A low chuckle escaped you. “What, you scared of a dog now?”

Luther’s head tilted ever so slightly, and he looked at you with what might’ve been confusion. “Not scared. Just… aware. Dogs are unpredictable. Much like you.”

You bristled slightly. “I’m not unpredictable.”

Luther shrugged, a weirdly smooth motion for someone who otherwise moved like a mannequin. “Of course not. You just fall out of trees on purpose, ja?”

You scowled, your tail flicking in irritation. “It was the branch, okay?”

Luther nodded, though his expression didn’t change. “Naturally.” He paused for a moment, looking around at the trees, and then added, “You don’t happen to know any... rats, do you?”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Maybe. Why?”

“Ah,” he said, his voice softening slightly, “no reason. Just... dislike them. Especially a certain one.” He rubbed his arm again. “He’s been around here before, hasn’t he?”

You gave a noncommittal grunt. “Maybe once.”

Luther sighed, though it sounded more like an imitation of a sigh than anything real. “Good. Keep him away from me, if you can. I’d rather not have to clean up after another... rat problem.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Don’t like cleaning up after rodents, huh? What a shame. Thought you were the housekeeper type.”

He blinked again, this time with a slight twitch of his head. “I prefer cleaning after... cats. Less disease. More fur.”

Freaky, you thought again, but there was something amusing about him. Something weirdly... endearing?

“So, uh, you do this often?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “Walking around the woods, being all… creepy?”

Luther gave a slow, deliberate nod. “I find it... peaceful. Besides,” he added, glancing up at the trees, “you never know when someone might... fall.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him half-heartedly. “Very funny.”

But Luther just stood there, staring at you with that same emotionless expression. It was like trying to talk to a robot. A creepy, German-speaking robot that occasionally babysat murderers.

For a second, you wondered if he had any idea how weird he was. Probably not.

“Well,” you said, breaking the awkward silence, “I’ll be going now. Before another branch decides to... ‘betray’ me.”

Luther nodded once more, almost mechanically. “Good idea. Stay safe. And... avoid the dogs.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a quick nod before turning and darting back into the woods. You scaled the nearest tree with ease, vanishing into the canopy once again.

From your new perch, you watched as Luther continued his slow, deliberate walk through the forest. He didn’t seem bothered by your presence—or your abrupt departure.

Weird as he was, you couldn’t deny it was kind of... nice to run into someone who wasn’t constantly trying to kill you.

Though you weren’t about to make a habit of falling out of trees.

----

Two weeks had passed since your last, uh, tactical descent in front of Luther.

And what better way to commemorate the occasion than to stalk him and his whole damn family on their weird camping trip? You’d spotted them earlier this morning while wandering the forest—Luther, of course, with his stiff, emotionless expression, and his entourage of freaks.

The moment you saw Nyen, you’d hissed under your breath, your ears twitching with irritation. That damn catman had nearly clawed your eyes out during your last fight, and you weren’t about to let him off the hook for it.

Perched high in a tree again (because why the hell not?), you watched the group set up camp. It wasn’t exactly the most well-organized event you’d ever seen—Randal was doing some weird contortionist shit, folding himself into a ball while holding one of his creepy-ass dolls. Nyon, the other catman, was sitting cross-legged by the campfire, reading a some russian novel like a pretentious nerd. And Nyen? He was being his usual douchebag self, chopping wood like he was auditioning for a lumberjack competition.

Luther was, as usual, overseeing everything with that same deadpan expression, occasionally muttering something in German to his “family.”

You squinted down at them, feeling a mixture of amusement and disgust. “What a freakshow,” you muttered to yourself, adjusting your position on the branch. “And why the hell am I up here again?”

Then you remembered: Nyen. That stupid, cocky catman. You couldn’t stand him. Every time you even thought about his dumb face, wearing that NEVADA shirt he was so proud of, it made your claws twitch. You had half a mind to drop down from this tree and knock his block off.

But not yet. You wanted to see how this played out first. Besides, Luther was speaking again.

“Sebastian,” Luther called, his voice calm but firm. The guy was sitting near the edge of the camp, fiddling with something in his hands. “Did you refill the water? Or are we going to... die of thirst out here?”

Sebastian looked up, eyes wide and a little panicked. “Uh... no. Not yet.”

Luther sighed softly, but there was no real disappointment in his tone. “Mach das bitte. We need water.”

Sebastian scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over a log in his hurry to get to the nearby river. You watched him go, feeling a bit sorry for the guy. Out of everyone here, Sebastian seemed like the only one who wasn’t completely unhinged.

Randal, on the other hand, had started balancing one of his dolls on his head while humming to himself. The creepy bastard hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived.

You rolled your eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with these people?”

And then, because the universe apparently loved to fuck with you, the branch beneath you cracked.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, scrambling to grab hold of something, anything. But just like before, the damn thing gave way, and you went plummeting toward the ground.

At least this time you were sort of prepared. You twisted mid-air, managing to land on your feet with a lot more grace than last time. Still, you couldn’t help the string of curses that flew from your mouth as you straightened up.

“Goddamn trees,” you growled, brushing off the dirt from your pants. “Fucking branches can’t be trusted.”

Of course, the entire camp had seen you fall. Again.

“Well, well, look who decided to drop in,” Nyen sneered, his stupid, smug face grinning at you like he’d just won a fucking prize. “Didn’t think we’d be graced with your presence so soon, tree climber.”

You shot him a glare, baring your teeth. “Shut the hell up, Nyen, before I knock that dumb shirt off your back.”

“Ohoho, big talk for someone who can’t stay in a tree for more than five minutes.”

Before you could lunge at him and make good on your threat, Luther stepped between the two of you, his calm, flat voice cutting through the tension. “Nyen,” he said, “enough.”

Nyen backed off, though he was still smirking like a jackass. You hated him so much.

Luther turned to you, his expression still neutral. “Fallen again, I see.”

You crossed your arms, scowling. “Yeah, yeah. The fucking branch broke.”

Luther nodded slowly, as if he’d heard this excuse a hundred times before. “Of course. The branch.”

You glared at him, but Luther, as usual, was unphased. He simply turned back to his family, clapping his hands twice. “Alright, everyone. Let’s focus. We’re here to enjoy the nature. No more fighting.”

Randal grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t mind a little fighting. Keeps things interesting. I like it when things try to kill us”

“Not today,” Luther replied firmly, his gaze shifting to Nyen. “We’re here to relax." He then shifted to Randal "Bad boys go to the closet, remember?”

Nyen grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. Probably because he knew Luther would have his ass if he did.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Why the hell are you even out here? This forest is my territory.”

Luther glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “We needed a change of scenery. And fresh air. Plus,” he added, you are always here, so I assumed you wouldn’t mind the company.”

You stared at him, blinking in surprise. He assumed you wouldn’t mind? Did he not realize you avoided people for a reason?

“I mind,” you said flatly. “A lot.”

Luther just shrugged. “Too bad. We’re here now. Might as well make the best of it.”

You huffed, looking around the camp. Nyon was still reading his book, completely ignoring the chaos around him. Sebastian had returned with a couple of water jugs, looking exhausted and more than a little nervous. Randal was playing with his dolls again, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

And Nyen? He was glaring at you from across the campfire, his eyes narrowed like he was sizing you up for another fight.

You sneered at him. “What? You want round two, asshole?”

Nyen smirked. “Anytime, tree climber.”

Luther sighed, rubbing his temples. “Why can we not be civil?" "We’re supposed to be... bonding.”

You snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Randal suddenly looked up, his eyes wide and filled with excitement. “Oooh, we should go hiking! Or climbing! It’ll be like the time we went climbing with Luther, remember? Except, you know, without all the falling.”

Your eye twitched. Fucking Randal.

Nyen laughed, his stupid grin widening. “Yeah, maybe you can show us how not to fall out of trees, tree climber.”

That was it. You were about to leap across the fire and tackle him when Luther’s calm, even voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Don’t.”

You froze, glaring at Luther. “But—”

“Nein.” He shook his head slowly. “We’re not doing this. Not today.”

You growled under your breath, but reluctantly backed off, knowing full well that Luther could—and would—send Nyen and Nyon after you.

“Fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms again. “But I’m not stay if that asshole’s gonna be here.”

Luther just nodded, as if that was perfectly reasonable. “Stay if you want. Leave if you want. It is your choice.”

You scowled at him, but he didn’t react. He never reacted.

Staring at the weird bunch gathered around the fire, you let out a long, frustrated sigh. Maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad. At the very least, you could keep an eye on Nyen. And if he stepped out of line, well...

You’d be ready.

---

Night had finally settled over the camp. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows over the bizarre assortment of people who, for whatever reason, had decided to call this forest their temporary home. Randal was snuggled up in his coffin (because of course he was), Nyon and Nyen were curled up nearby, both of them eerily still as they slept. Even Sebastian, poor nervous Sebastian, had managed to pass out in a tangled mess of blankets. And Luther? Well, Luther was standing watch like the weird, emotionless sentinel he was, occasionally muttering things in German to himself.

You had to admit, the sight was kind of peaceful... but also incredibly annoying. You hadn’t come to this forest to deal with this madness. You lived here, for crying out loud. You weren’t about to let these freaks make themselves at home without at least trying to maintain some distance.

Which was why you’d climbed up a tree. Again.

Perched high in the branches, you glared down at the camp below, your arms crossed over your chest. "I'm not that fat," you muttered to yourself, shifting to get more comfortable on the branch. "I shouldn’t have fallen last time. Stupid tree."

You’d been watching them for hours, waiting for some sign of movement, something that would give you a reason to swoop down and scare the crap out of Nyen. But so far, everyone seemed dead to the world—well, except for Luther, who probably didn’t even need to sleep like a normal person.

Feeling a little more confident, you leaned forward slightly to get a better view of Luther standing near the fire. You knew he could probably sense you up here, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Just keep watching. Don’t fall this time. No need for more embarrassment.

But, because the universe had it out for you, you shifted your weight just a little too far. The branch beneath you let out a soft creak, then a loud CRACK.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you whispered in horror as gravity took hold.

And down you went.

Again.

Except this time, instead of landing gracefully like before, you smacked every branch on the way down like a goddamn pinball, leaves and twigs flying everywhere.

“SHIT! DAMN IT—FUCK—”

You finally crashed to the ground with a thud, flat on your back, the wind knocked out of you.

You blinked open your eyes after your second painful tumble from the tree, chest heaving from the fall. Everything hurt, from your bruised ribs to your dignity.

And then, you saw him.

Luther was standing directly over you, his face just a little too close, his head tilted at that unnatural angle, his wide eyes blank and unblinking. His emotionless expression remained as it always did—flat, robotic—but he loomed over you like some kind of eerie statue.

You gasped, jerking back with a start. “Jesus fucking—gosh!”

“Guten Abend,” he said in his usual monotone, his voice low but somehow managing to be both deadpan and unsettlingly calm. "You fell again."

Your heart was racing, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. He was standing right there, like he had teleported into your nightmares, but you knew he didn't move that way. He was just… Luther.

“Could you not do that?” you snapped, pushing yourself back a little further away from him, still trying to regain your composure. "I swear, you just—what the hell is wrong with you?!"

“I heard a noise,” he replied, his voice devoid of inflection. “I checked on the noise.”

His face remained blank, expressionless as always, but his eyes were fixed on you, unblinking. It was like staring into the face of a mannequin that had somehow come to life—or almost alive. He was trying, you could tell, but there was no warmth in his gaze, no real understanding of why you might have a heart attack just from waking up to him looming like a creep.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled, sitting up and rubbing the back of your head. “Just… give me a second before you start hovering over me like some kind of stalker. Ever heard of personal space?”

Luther blinked—finally—and took a step back, his gaze still locked on you. “I thought you might be injured. But you are not.”

“Well, thanks for that stunning diagnosis, Dr. Creepy,” you shot back, still a bit shaken by how close he'd been.

“I’m not a doctor,” he responded, almost as if that were a genuine clarification. “But you should rest anyway. You fall often.”

You gave him a flat look. “You know, you don’t have to say it like that.”

“I am sorry,” Luther said, though his voice didn’t sound sorry at all. It was the same empty tone, like he was just saying the words because he’d read them in some manual on how to be a human being. He straightened, his towering figure no less unsettling as he looked down at you, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. “Do you require assistance?”

“No,” you huffed, waving him off. “I’m fine. Just… go back to whatever the hell you were doing. I don’t need you standing there like the Grim Reaper every time I screw up.”

“I do not reap,” he said, matter-of-factly, staring at you in that unnerving, dead-eyed way that made your skin crawl.

You groaned and scrambled to your feet. “You’re impossible.”

Luther stood there, unmoving, his head slightly tilted as if he were trying to process your frustration but failing completely. Then, without a word, he turned and walked back to the campfire, his movements unnaturally fluid, like he didn’t have bones, only the memory of how humans should move.

As you dusted yourself off and tried to calm down, you grumbled to yourself, “I’m not this fucking fat. It’s definitely the trees.”

From the campfire, Luther’s voice floated back, calm and emotionless as ever. “It could be the trees. Or your weight.”

You clenched your fists. “I hate you.”

“Guten Nacht,” Luther said, sitting back down, utterly unbothered.

You glared at his back, heart still racing from the scare, and muttered under your breath, "I really hate this family."

(P.s Nana and kitty are relaxing in the tent like the girl bosses they are!)

[threepandas]

Counting Down: 1 [Next ->]

The worst part about knowing the end? Is the beginning and middle. The waiting to change. The hoping it can. Days, spent with the low fear, ever churning, that it will all make no difference. Your actions. Your plans. The hopes you have placed in Fate's fickle hands.

Entering the Creche at an awkward age, too soon to be Legend, too late to be Peer. I was destined to be an adult by the time Anikin arrived. Getting up there, by the time the Order fell. Not yet old enough to be an Elder... yet destined to never live long enough to see such an age.

Obviously, I refused.

Looked around, locked eyes on the closest most manageable Character Of Relevance and took a chance. After all, was it not? The Jedi WAY? To inconvenience the Sith at every turn? So... first Crecheling, then Initiate, then baby Padawan Me, tracked the poor man down. Hunted him for SPORT.

Meditate with me, Knight Dooku! Can you teach me about this or that, Knight Dooku? What is the correct use of seashell tongs in formal dining, when attending a formal feast with the aristocracy, during this specific religious holiday, Knight Dooku? (No, no, on the moon not the planet.)

Congratulations on you Mastery! Master Dooku!

Pushing and shoving my way into his life. Persistent, much to everyone's amusement, and his baffled chagrin. It was like befriending a fussy, regal looking, semi-feral cat. Force knows, for all his training, he's terrible at casual interactions. He was older them me, yes. And Mentor of sorts, certainly. For a time. But? We became... friendly? I like to think? I certainly chased him down enough.

He's a dramatic and awkward man, Yan, and he'd be lost without us; Sifo, Nu, and I. Occasionally Yoda, but that does come and go. Not to metion... well... his Padawans. (Damn it, Yan. They can't read the subtext from your pointed silences! Use your WORDS.) The sort of man who is... sturdy, but brittle. Like an old, unbending tree.

Which makes it all the worse, when the pressure becomes too much. Because it does not merely crack. No. No, such men? They shatter in terrible and unpredictable ways. Unbreakable right up until they are not. Unending right up until the crash.

It is...? Both tragic and hilarious, in a that way, that Yan should live surrounded by so many prophets. Yet he does not, can not, and never will see the end coming. Surrounded by legends, both old and new. Born with every marker for greatness. Yet he...? He will be considered little more then a footnote, in someone else's history. At best.

And the worst part of his Fall? The absolutely worst part? Is the Light I still feel, each time I look at him, the GOOD I know is there. Resolute and noble, dignified and full of grace. A diplomat. Expert swordsman. Makes magnificent tea. The driest wit imaginable. He... he is YAN. Not Count Dooku. Not some Sith Apprentice. Just... just Yan.

My friend.

I meditate on it a lot. The Force gives no clear answers. Still, I do try, sitting in the gardens. Tucked away several stories up, past the considerate veil of several sweeping branches. I never did succeed in figuring out which planet the tree hails from, I suspect it might be either a long dead one or some small moon. It's a truely lovely, sturdy, thing nonetheless.

Far below, younglings shriek and play growl. Running carefree, to work off energy before evening meditation. Each a tiny blaze of starlight dancing at the edge of my vision.

A bit bright, I note, but nothing concerning.

The Halls of Healing will have to increase my prescription again. My glasses are no longer blocking enough... I sigh. Considering that. My sight? Is at least partially genetic. While I may be predominantly human, just because someone looks human passing, doesnt mean they genetically are one. My ancestors were, to put it mildly, a bit... Mandalorian.

Where their was a will, there was apparently, a way; And now I pay the price for it. It's honestly a miracle they never "married", as it were, themselves into a genetic dead end. Some sort of metaphorical space mule scenario, as it were. Yet? Despite all that seeming success? Luck is not eternal. And should you keep gambling? Eventual you will roll poorly.

I was that poor hand. That unfortunate luck. Loved of course. Expected even. My parents both wanted and were delighted by me. But? I screamed. Could not bear to be near people. My inheritance? A truely unfortunate luck of the draw. When combine with Force Sensitivity? My eyes reacted to "Light" poorly. Very, VERY poorly.

They were blinding to me. A mere child with no shields to speak of, no Force training to push BACK with. Like being force to look direct at the sun, again and again. It HURT. Because I could See.

Where others saw merely flesh? I saw deeper. Not infalliblly, not perfectly, I was hardly some omniscient god, but... oh. Oh. The world was so Bright. So LUMINOUS. The Force swirling and burning and flowing. In everything, from humble to grand. People shine, and yes, it is beautiful. But it also? Hurts. Because it IS, ultimately, being forced to stare directly at bright, ever shifting, sometimes flickering LIGHT.

I have a lifelong disability. Can not FUNCTION without my filtering shade glasses.

Or, if you are one of the ignorant assholes, who even NOW still seek to use me? I have what you might call? A"gift~☆".

According to Healer Che, it was some highly recessive trait. (From a planet I honest didn't even know I had heritage on, much less could find on a navigation system.) A subterranean people, due to the truely ungodly surface conditions. VERY sensitive to energy signatures and light. Which...? When you slap on a whole NEW super special Force sensing ability? Filtered through the same brain? Wires unfortunately crossed.

It could have happened it anyone. Unfortunately, it happened to me. Now I'm effectively blind around large collections of sentients. Or Life in general, depending on the intensity. To say NOTHING of Force Nexus! Dear merciful FUCK, that was the sort of accident only you make ONCE and then NEVER again. I was lucky to keep my vision. At all. Full stop.

Sifo was not so lucky. His Visions being neither natural nor kind. The Force seizing him again and again, to plunge him into vivid scenes of carnage. Death and horrors in the home he so loved. I would would be forced to, should I fail, see the Fall of the Order once. But Sifo? Oh... oh, dear Sifo...

Sifo, had seen it fall ten thousand times.

Even Yan did listen to him. Not truely. But there is camaraderie, in the horrors. In whispering, "it's not their fault", through choking tears. Forgiving the victims that will one day kill us. There is... a certain, heavy, sort of friendship... born of pressing your foreheads together, fingers intertwined, knuckles white with terror, as you shudder in the dark.

I think it helped, helps, that he has someone, who believes him. Anyone. Not just humoring him, the mad man sprouting prophecies of doom. But truely believes him. Knows he is right. And that if nothing is done? Everyone will die.

But... BUT! It CAN NOT, be Kamino, Sifo. Not that, never that.

In the dark, I remind him of prophets, seeking to avoid their visions, and instead? Ensuring the worst, comes to pass. Defense, Sifo. Escape. We are JEDI. Do not let fear blind you, to who you ARE. Do not let it take down a path of darkness.

I wrap him in the Light. Tuck my Force presence close, like I'm hiding him again my side, a youngling tucked into the safety of my robe. Shhhh, my friend. It is okay to be afraid. I am too. We can do this together. We are not alone. I believe you.

We are the pillars of his mental health, Yan and I. It concerns the healers greatly. The council. Honestly? It concerns me. But what can I do? No one else CAN help Sifo, until the first take the step of recognizing he is not, in fact, insane. He is a perfectly SANE man, reacting in entirely reasonable ways, to unspeakable Nexus born horrors. Slowly cracking under the isolation and grief. A jedi pushed and pushed, far past the point lesser men would have broken.

And if? He need a woman young enough to be his one of his student's, to rely on? So be it. I am a Knight now, I can handle it. (I have been handling it, since the incident. Since I was a Crecheling. Where the fuck were all of YOU? Ah, that's right. Calling him insane. Making things WORSE.)

I breathe out slow and controlled. My meditation is getting me no where. Rising, I carefully hop down, using the Force to slow my fall, much to the awe of various Crechelings. I can not help but smile. Was I ever that small? So easily impressed? I bow to my tiny fellow jedi. Delighted, they scramble to bow back. Thrilled to show off how grown up and serious they are, how well down they can do it.

Reaching out with my senses, I look for Yan, politely avoiding doing more then the briefest brush as I reach past others. I am not the first, nor will I be the last. There are hundreds of such searches a day. Some clumsy and heavy handed, from Crechelings or Initiates. Some soft as brushing strands of silk. Knights or Masters, looking for friends, looking for students where the should not be.

The Temple feels alive, noisy even, when you know how to feel it.

Ah, there he is! Heading from the High Council's cha-Grief. Horror. A gutting pain that numbs and spreads.

Caught off gaurd, I am sent reeling. Stumbling, without grace, over my own feet into a nearby wall. Glad for it, as I desperately grab at my chest and wheeze, drawing the alarmed attention of nearby Knights and Guards. Because... because, the other direction? Had I stumbled in the other direction, I would have hit the railing. Fully doubt I... I would have been able t-too.... oh Force-!

It takes entirely too long to seperate my emotions from Yan's. To realize what's happening. My panic feeding into the pain. My pain feeding into the panic. Yan. S-Something happened to Yan! I manage to gasp it out. P-please! S.. Someone! Go! Go check on Master Dooku!

The world spins as I try to force air into my body. It refuses to come. Whatever horrible pain Yan is in, leeching down our connection. Into me. Hurting. Made so, SO much worse, by my having been actively looking for him. I close my eyes, teeth gritting, and trying to stop digging my nails into skin. I-It won't help. There's nothing physically there.

But it hurts! God, does it HURT!

It feels like my WORLD has been shredded. My heart, crushed, cruel and slow in my chest. H-he's having a panic attack. Has to be! Or-! Or being attacked! I d-don't... don't KNOW!

A passing Master has hurried over, now kneels next to me. Various Knights pushing whatever calm and safety the can at me. No one is quite certain what will help. But they try. Desperately, stubbornly, resolute to the last... they TRY.

Breathe with me, begs the Master. Pressing my hand to his chest. Just copy my breathing. Help is coming. Release what pain you can, into the Force. We will help you. Let us help you.

I try.

Desperately, I Try.

The Healers end up having to give us sedatives, Yan and I. Sifo ends up... worse. The entire event triggering another, nasty, round of visions. He is incoherent. Trapped. Staring up at the Death Star from the surface of Alderaan, through countless eyes, begging to be heard. His soul, small and desperate, replaying the end, over and over. Even as he tries to protect what souls he can from the inevitable.

He cries for this too. They won't believe him, I know. Even as he thrashs and begs. For the lives of the innocent to be spared, for monsters to hold their fire. I will though. I will. I always do.

But Sifo will be lost for days. Yan, however? As he sits, on the bed, just the other side me? Sits stiff and properly. Blankly. As the healers words wash over him. I doubt a single on has registered. Of the three of us, I am the only one even remotely functioning. Yet... yet I still, don't know what has happened.

Nodding one last time to the healer assigned to me. Promising that yes, I will most certainly rest. I slip my my bed and sweep over to stand next to Yan's. The Healer's concerned and frustrated. He knows Yan's not listening. But has to try. I shoot him a strained, closed lipped, smile. Quietly take charge of my unresponsive friend.

The Healers relief is palpable. Our notes and instructions are not terribly dissimilar. Rest, food, no missions or upsets. Got it.

Gently, I guide Yan from the Healing Halls. Alarmed, that he let's himself be led. He never let's himself be led like this. Insists he is no invalid, to be coddled. Yet... here he is. Mind a thousand parsecs away.

Bringing him to his rooms, I key in his code then gently guide him to his favorite chair. Lightly guide him down into it. Not... not once, during the entire walk back, has he responded to anything. I am beginning to grow afraid.

Fussing, I drag up that terribly pretentious Serranian musician, on his music system. The one I can't stand. I am worried. Sacrifices must be made. Boring and insipid music fills the room. Very fancy! Come on, Yan. This is his new piece! Don't you want to comment on it? Come, tell me why it's so much better then the racket youngling blast these days. I'll call you an old man...

Nothing.

Worry growing, I begin making his favorite tea. Digging out his special occasion snacks. Something, anything, to get a reaction. As things brew, a sound too wounded to truly be a laugh, chokes it's way out of him.

"Xana-...My..." he starts. Stops. Normally sharp mind refusing to obey him, as he tries to summon words. He looks lost.

"My Grand-Padawan is dead." His voice is brittle, alien sounding in his mouth. I nearly drop the plate of snacks I was carrying over, in response. Horrified. "He was supposed be returning a knight. Qui-gon was.. was so proud of him. Adored him. This has destroyed him. Will destroy all of us. I... I have lost everything."

No. No, you have NOT.

Striding forward and all but dumping the plate on the side table next to him, I reach for my friend with both hands. With my Force presence. I refuse. No, damn it! I Will NOT lose him. Not like this, not TOO this!

Listen. LISTEN to me, Yan Dooku. So help me Stars, Gods both big and small, you will not succumb to this!

The greatest lie the Dark has ever told, is that it will make things better. That it can help you with your pain. Would Xanatos want his death to destroy you? Would the child of your child, want his legacy to be the ruin of everyone he loved? It is okay to grieve. You NEED to grieve. But remember you Padawans. Remember their Padawans.

Your Lineage still lives, Yan Dooku.

It is hurting, mourning, but ALIVE. Don't you dare run from it in your grief. You are better then that. I am here. Sifo and Nu are here. Yoda, is here. We will carry this pain together, okay?

Closing his eyes, he let his head rest more heavily against my hands. Dampness darkened his eyelashes, but no true tears formed or fell. He didn't seem to have it in him. Not yet. His hands though... his hands? Shook as they slowly, haltingly, like a droid with seizing joints, reached out for me.

I moved from leaning over him to sitting on the arm rest of his fancy Serranian high backed chair. That he didn't even grumble over me "abusing his furniture" by putting weight on the arm rest like this? Gods.

Leaning into him, I wrapped my arms around his head and shoulders. Like a shield against the universe. Used the Force to pull the tea, finally done, and pour it into a nice cup. Properly of course. See, Yan? I remember your lectures. Here, drink.

He... did not.

Just leaned, sagged against me, as he shuddered with grief. Hands wrapped around a cup of fragrant tea. Music filling the air. Tucked safe inside my Force presence, as best I could.

In... Out... In... Out... There was a slight stutter to it, a hitch, that in a less controlled man? Might have broken into a sob. But... instead, Yan meditated. That first cup going to waste. The second following, as it slowly went cold. Needs must, though, and tea? Can be replaced. Yan can not.

Emptying wasted cups, I poured more. Rested my head atop his own. Matched his breathing as I slipped into a light meditation with him. The room was quite enough. The position not terribly comfortable. But honestly? We'd both meditated under worse conditions, and it had been... A DAY.

To put it mildly.

I didn't like the look of Yan's Force Presence. It was like a fault line had been struck. Spreading terrible spiderwebbing cracks in otherwise sturdy stone. I was no mind healer... really, not a healer at all, I was a Seeker, but? I had learned a few tricks. After all, not every child I had found? Was found in a safe and loving home. Most weren't, honestly.

You learned to soothe, as a Seeker. Learn how to help. Children, after all, don't know Light from Dark. They just know that if they reach for the magic in their head? Bad things go away and good things tend to happen. Sometimes they hurt themselves by accident. Sometimes they hurt themselves... because the alternative was worse.

"You know, my dear? Some days I think you are the only Jedi with any compassion left. The boy never should have been sent there. Not for his trials. The lives of others are not a child's test. And to be asked to face one's own family? It... it was cruel."

Yan sent his cup around me, to rest on the side table, before gently tugging me down into his lap. He hugged me close, like a child squeezing a stuffed animal for comfort, face buried in the crook between my shoulder and neck. Like he was hiding from the world. I rest my head against his shoulder, eyes closed.

We were both... so tired, weren't we. This was nice.

"When did it all become about proving ones purity? One's superiority of morals? We are supposed to help people. Not lord over them. If I wished to do THAT, I would merely need to return to Serrano. Become a Count. You and Sifo are the only one who seem to understand me."

"I think I would go mad, without you."

Yes. I worry that you would, Yan. I worry that you would.

[fantasytrees]

Large Sturdy Cat Tree

 Large Sturdy Cat Trees Heavy Duty Cat Tree Extra Large Cat Tree www.aFantasyForest.com

[loveriotss]

[ 🥐 ] LOVE ALLIANCE : ALLIANCE D'AMOUR ⸻ MEET : katsuki bakugo's crew | k.bakugo x gn! reader smau series

→ explosion hero : great explosion murder god dynamight - katsuki bakugo → gossip channels and hero update accounts love to see him coming (they can depend on him alone to keep their shit running because of how much trouble he gets himself into 😭). → plays drums for jirou's music. → he has a faceless cooking channel, kinda like asmr ykwim. he has never openly admitted that the account belongs to him but his fangirls and boys can recognize him anywhere.

→ sturdy hero : red riot - ejirou kirishima → is in a relationship with mina ashido. → apart from his official hero accounts, he has a very successful workout channel.

→ stun gun hero : chargebolt - denki kaminari → has the feels for kyoka jirou (yes his bio is about her). → is a huge collector. it can vary from figures to comic books to mangas to rocks. → plays the guitar for jirou's music.

→ taping hero : cellophane - hanta sero → occasionally streams. he mostly plays games and talks to his audience. → currently learning the electric guitar. → adopted a cat that he saved from a tree.

→ acid hero : pinky - mina ashido → in a relationship with ejirou kirishima. → another big fashion girlie!! always pulls up to events in the most stunning looks. → does dance covers too!

→ hearing hero : earphone jack - kyoka jirou → has a prosthetic for her left ear. → she is also a music artist! she doesn't do concerts yet because of her hero schedule, but has been posting song covers and releasing songs for a while! [ a/n: cologne by beabadoobee is the song i picked for her! ]

ᯓ★» LOVE ALLIANCE !

< previous | masterlist | next >

ᯓ★» ALLIANCE SECRETS !

୨ৎ : for a long time, jirou was quite shy and wasn't really confident enough to post her songs/covers but her friends encouraged her and she ended up gaining popularity! ୨ৎ : denki LOVES collecting funko pops. there will be stacks and stacks of them on his shelves and walls. ୨ৎ : sero is like a crazy cat lady except he has only one cat. spoils his little princess so much and it's hard to imagine that once upon a time he didn't really like cats that much. ୨ৎ : mina does crocheting in her free time. she complains about how much she hates it and how time consuming it is but will continue doing it (ME FR). ୨ৎ : kirishima's hair is lowk dying because of how much he dyes it. ୨ৎ : bakugo's highschool stories keep popping up now and then and it HAUNTS him. he'll be having a perfectely good day and then one of his friends will send a picture of him and his hair slicked back when he interned for jeanist.

ᯓ★» AUTHOR'S NOTE !

im having so much fun giving them their little side jobs/hobbies.

ᯓ★» TAGLIST !

( comment on masterlist to be added + pls check ur settings if you're unable to be tagged ) @chsvok @ch3rryjampi3 @emmab3mma @pikachuzhc @cholios @zaiban2989 @hearts4heidi @ikissfade @themultifandomgirl @god-hangry-otter @solecitoszn @sunlix143 @rikislove @fackeraccount @chaoslibra @4rmins @harryzcherry @luvvvamy

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. don’t try to copy/steal my work. do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[silverflqmes]

begging for a cloud x reader fluff of reader hiring him to help her get her cat stuck out of the tree but he loves her so much thats it free of charge

໒⦂ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄.

notes. CLOUD HELPING A KITTY YES<3 anon you are onto something fr tysm for this request, i hope this fulfills what you had in mind, it’s a little on the shorter side.. but enjoy<3

genre. fluff

cloud strife x gn!reader.

getting a cat out of a tree was the last request cloud would have ever thought he’d receive. what was he, an animal whisperer? he could barely communicate with people as it was, and now.. he was standing at the base of a great oak, lips flattened, with mild regret weighing on his conscience.

oh, the things he did for love.

“cloud, be careful! she’s shy around people!” you warned him a few feet away, gazing up at your feline companion — who clung helplessly to a worn down branch.

the blond had to wonder what on earth possessed your fuzzy friend to go into a tree and find the worst possible branch to lay on. it was completely absurd, and downright risky??

a sigh left his lips as he grabbed onto the protruding pieces of bark, shaking his head. “it can’t any worse than getting stabbed in the same place twice.” the former infantryman muttered, scaling the tree slowly, carefully.

cats were typically.. skittish. he remembered that much at least from the time he’d helped out wedge with finding his. therefore, the spiky haired male had to be slow with his advances and quiet, as they didn’t favor loud noises or sudden movements, either.

as cloud finally reached the level the cat was on, he shifted to sit on a sturdy branch, locking eyes with sora — your calico kitty.

distress was evident on her features as she let out a meow that sounded more or less like a cry for help, but the mercenary could tell she had been on guard, too.

“you’re doing great cloud!” you cheered from the ground, stepping closer in case your friend decided to jump down rather than accept your lover’s assistance. “almost there!”

his lips pursed together at the praise, cheeks tinting with pink as he lowered himself, almost hugging the bough he sat atop. “pspspspsps..” ugh, this is so embarrassing. “over here, sora.. gonna need you to inch closer.” he mumbled to the cat, outstretching his hand as far as it could go — which.. was just barely out of reach.

meaning, your feline friend would have to find it in herself to not only put her trust in him, but risk the wood snapping beneath her in an attempt at moving in on him.

a tough decision, indeed.

a frown ghosted the blond’s lips as he curled his fingers toward himself, a gesture to urge the cat to follow. “this is so stupid.. come on, please? y/n’s worried about you.” he pressed, scooting forward, only for the cat to scoot back. just.. great.

cloud let out a groan, nearly tossing his head back, but he didn’t want to risk scaring her. “they’re expecting me to save you, and you’re very important to them — which..” he grumbled, looking away. “means you’re important to me, too.. pay or not.”

something almost seemed to change in sora’s ivy orbs as she blinked up slowly at the other, considering his words — from what he could tell, at least.

you found difficulty in making out their conversation, or well, whatever cloud was trying to tell your cat. it seemed he wanted it kept between her and him.

despite the current situation, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh into your hand. and he said he wasn’t an animal whisperer.

feeling the tips of his ears redden at the intense stare he was given, the owner of strife delivery service let out a low exhale before reaching his hand out one last time. “come on, y/n has treats waiting for you and somewhere way more comfortable to hang out than.. whatever spot you found here.” he added awkwardly, closing his eyes to receive his rejection once more, only.. it never came.

a low crunching noise filled his ears and his sapphire-mako eyes shot open, finding that sora had shifted closer.. at the expense of the branch she held onto.

panic flooded cloud’s system as lunged forward for the multi-colored cat, stretching one hand out to retrieve her while the other grasped onto the limb he previously sat atop.

the gasp that entered his ears was expected, followed by the noise of surprise you’d let out when he safely caught sora.

when aquamarine met olive, cloud shook his head at the cat in his hands before bringing her close to his chest and allowing himself to drop. “you need to be more careful. you may have nine lives, but i don’t..”

a confused meow, as though the feline was feigning ignorance ( most likely ), had been the only response cloud earned in return for his doings as he felt her cheek nuzzle into his chest. were cats always this bipolar?

with the danger gone, you ran up to your boyfriend, panting in relief at the sight of your furry companion clinging him. “geez, — that nearly gave me a heart attack. you just had to wait till the last minute.. you’re lucky cloud was there!”

sora seemed to lower her ears into something akin to the wings of an airplane before she leaned into her savior more, purring quietly.

the action had you gasping, appalled and yet.. touched at the same time that she had taken a liking to your partner.. unless it was just her being defiant.

still, it made cloud blink, not used to being favored by animals as he sheepishly placed a gloved hand to pet her gently. “um.. maybe just stick to cat condos from now on..” he offered quietly when you peered over at him expectantly.

notes. cloud with kitties will never not be cute — i wish he picked up wedge’s cat like tifa did during the plate fall😭 but it’s fine, edits and art exists.. anyways, i hope you enjoyed anon<3

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

[raineandsky]

#124

The hero rolls up on the driveway of a simple house. A giant tree is taking up most of the front garden, and with a squint they can see the cat they’re here to rescue, sitting as high as physically possible amongst the leaves. Someone is standing at the bottom, staring up at it, a large blanket wrapped in their arms.

The hero gets out of their car and slams the door behind them, earning the person’s attention. The hero is rather surprised, for lack of a better word, to find the villain looking back at them.

The villain seems to go through the five stages of grief in the space of a second. Their whole body is tensed, like they’re going to bolt at any second. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The hero turns their eyes up to the cat above them. A giant thing, bless. A ragdoll, if the fluffiness is anything to go by. “Is the cat yours?”

The villain follows their gaze. “I called the fire apartment for that,” they mumble.

“Well, the fire department sent me,” the hero says innocently. “How long has it been up there?”

“She has been there for two hours.”

“And you stood out here for two hours before you thought calling someone was a good idea?”

“Did the fire department send you to mock me?” The villain scowls, the blanket scrunched tight in their fists. “I don’t think I can be bothered dealing with you today.”

“Nah, they just thought I could earn some bonus popularity with the public if I save a cat,” the hero comments idly.

“Well, you’re not earning any popularity here,” the villain snaps, “so you can go ahead and get the people I actually called out here.”

“What would the agency think if I can’t even save a cat?” The hero barks a laugh. “Unfold your blanket. It’s useless like that.”

The villain’s scowl deepens but they do as they’re told, flapping the blanket to unravel it from whatever weird braid they’ve woven it into. The hero studies the tree, carefully testing the sturdiness of the footholds, before carefully puling themself off the ground.

The villain looks up to find the hero halfway up the tree and, perhaps in the world’s rarest show of concern, cries, “what are you doing?”

“Saving your cat,” the hero retorts between short breaths. The cat yowls as they get close, a spit of a hiss thrown at them as a warning. Pets are like their owners, the hero supposes.

“You’re okay, Dusty!” the villain shouts, then a little more incredulously, “she doesn’t like other people. Just so you know.”

The hero can see that from the way Dusty—Dusty, how much does the villain hate her to call her that?—is still hissing and edging out of reach. She can’t go much further but by god, she’s going to try.

The branch under the hero curves dangerously as they pull themself up. Dusty’s claws are very much out, digging into the bark under her feet as the branch sways, another hiss spat at the hero. “I’m trying to help you,” the hero says sharply, as if she can understand them. “God, I’m not doing this for you again.”

The hero edges along the branch, acutely aware of how much it’s bending under their weight. Seemingly too close for comfort, Dusty makes a furious swipe with that hiss that’s probably going to haunt the hero’s nightmares. “[Villain],” they call, “get under her. It’s not exactly stable up here.”

The villain moves into position without complaint, the blanket stretched out in their arms. The hero doesn’t get to check them before Dusty’s making another goddamn swipe. Dogs, the hero thinks, are so much easier.

The hero nudges closer and the cat’s not having it. She skirts back with another hiss, but the branch is too thin behind her. Her back foot misses its mark, and with a yowl she slips off the branch.

The hero and the villain yelp in tandem. The hero’s too far away to catch her. The villain leaps in, blanket brandished like a shield, and Dusty flops into it like a furious sun sucked into a silky black hole.

The hero’s never been so happy to get out of a tree. By the time they’re on solid ground again the villain’s swaddled Dusty in the blanket, her face poking out of the top, clearly very comfortable in the villain’s arms.

She notices the hero approaching before the villain. She turns her gaze to them and, without a care for what just happened, gives them one last hiss.

The villain laughs. “She has her morals in line, at least.”

“She’s just like you.” The hero rolls their eyes in mock offence. “Though she’s too nice to you to be called Dusty.”

“Oh, she’s not Dusty technically,” the villain says matter-of-factly. “It’s short for Feather Duster.”

The hero blinks at them. They’re not convinced that’s any better.

“Because she’s so fluffy she looks like a feather duster,” the villain continues, “and because I need one to clean up after her. She gets fur everywhere.”

The hero finally finds the words to say. “Your cruelty knows no bounds.”

“I know.” The villain grins, nuzzling their nose into the top of Dusty’s head. No, the hero is not calling her Feather Duster. “But she loves me anyway.”

Clearly, from the way she’s purring like a train. “Evil loves company.”

The villain strokes her head for a moment before turning back to the hero with a look they don’t like. “I’ll be honest, [Hero],” they start slowly, “I’m not here next week, and I need a cat sitter to look after—“

“Absolutely not,” the hero cuts in. “This was enough of an experience.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” The villain pulls the blanket back for her face to show a little more. “She is cute though, isn’t she?”

The hero looks down at Dusty. She blinks back at them slowly, already half asleep in the villain’s arms. The hero really hates to admit it, but she is kind of cute. At least when she’s not screaming at them and threatening to rip them to shreds.

But the hero would rather die than give the villain an ego boost. They hold back a knowing smile, and says every pet owner's call to violence: “Nah.”

[yearningaces]

I just wanna be held by a giant. Big, burly, rough and tumble giant that would hold me over their heart like one would hold a cat. Just me looking up at them and them looking down at me with that uneven perfect smile.

Is it too much to ask?!

This was the ask that had me losing my mind enough that I actually wrote a story for the first time in a while

And then they added this to my inbox:

"Imagine feeling and hearing the reverberations of the giant's pleased growl as you smother them in soft kisses and place one over their heart. How they would melt into your tiny hands, while their own enormous, seemingly invincible palms hold you so safe. How soundly you'd be lulled into sleep by raise and fall of their chest as lay on them."

So of course I had to give it my best and let the wholesome giant consume my thoughts

~

'It's dark, and it's thundering.' Your first thoughts upon waking in the middle of the night, having slept so deeply that you seemingly forgot your placement in this world.

Only after you tried wiggling around did you realize that your sleeping spot isn't warm because of you, it's warming you. And it's not so dark, you're simply covered under a gentle and relaxed hand. It's not storming outside, the thunderous drum underneath where you lay is where the noise is coming from. A massive heartbeat, one beating faster now as if its charge had just woken.

You take a moment to rub the sleep from your eyes, letting out a noise when the giants fingers gently curl under your laying form, raising you up just high enough he can look up at you easily from his spot in the massive bed.

Ofius is the picture of enamored. The scruffy giant gazing up so smitten with your tiny self. "Y'r awake?" His voice is as soft as the low and baritone rumble can be this late into the night, sounding pleased at the chance of late night closeness. He does sound half asleep and without any filter; meaning he can simply hold you and look at you. Appreciating the sight of you so sleepy this late into the night, a sight that only he is allowed. "Why awake, bad dream? I gotta break someone in half?" His low voice turns into a slight growl at the idea of something upsetting you. "... 'll do it. Stomp on anyone stupid enough to-"

"Ofius, honey, I'm alright." Your voice soothed the giants sudden protectiveness, easing his concern into a soft care once more as he watches you with a sleepy, crooked smile.

"I don't know why I'm up though," You call out to him, relaxed in his grip, held directly over his charmed gaze, having learned over the years that Ofius would never let you fall. "-Just woke up I suppose."

The giant shifts slightly, leaning more upright against the headboard he'd carved out by hand. After situating himself, he lowers you closer, pressing you to the soft, warm skin of his cheek with an affectionate rumble. Ofius' eyes fall closed as he so carefully holds you close, cautious and affectionate in his nuzzling against you. "Good. Then you spend time with me before sleep returns." Ofius' voice is a heavy rumbled accent you can never place- often pared with the language only the giants speak. "Want to enjoy you."

You can feel his crooked nose bump against your side lightly as his affectionate sounds and actions continue. And what can you do other than lean into the affection, the indention where the side of his nose ends and his cheek begins has always been a perfect spot to lay against. And it provides you the perfect opportunity to press many little kisses against his face, much to the giants delight.

"Little love is wanting affection?" His tone could almost be called a soft coo if Ofius wasn't so burly and bearish in nature and tone. His dark hair almost always wild, his darker eyes capable of containing such malevolence, yet only ever looking to you with nothing short of reverence. The sturdy giant would have been quite a powerhouse to be wary of even if he was your size.

But as he stands, he's as tall as the trees, and being as he is- he has so much more love to give.

After a moment of pondering, you finally respond to his remark, "I always want your affection." You can only relax and grin, feeling his fingers tense and untense repeatedly, the clear sign he's wanting to squeeze you close and adore you, but doesn't risk harming you. Instead- one hand so carefully presses against your back, fingers gently stroking along your spine as the other hand clutches onto the pillow beside him, needing to squeeze something close. Ofius breath is just ragged enough for you to recognize him as spiralling into his adorations for you.

"My little love-" it takes no effort for him to easily pluck you into his palm and shift so he's laying on his stomach with you held in his hands, under his looming face. "-My little human. I hold you in my hands, yet I want you closer. I sew pockets over my heart on all of my shirts for you to rest safely, but it is not close enough." He leans down carefully, so very carefully, pressing a giant kiss to your entire toreso with a deep resounding rumble from his chest before pulling back just slightly. "I wonder, are you tiny enough to fit in my own heart? I would happily build a way to ensure your comfort."

Meanwhile you can only be seen as the cat who caught the canary because here this massive giant is, big, and burly, and powerful, and so adoring, he's practically obsessed. And there you lay in his hands, not even trying. "I don't know if you want me in your heart, Ofius. You wouldn't get any more kisses if I was there instead of right here.

Ofius for all of his prowess seems to hesitate as if such a fate is a horrible thought indeed. "... Then stay in my grasp and kiss me." His eyes are unwavering as he watches you before showing some hesitation and remembering his manners. "...Please?"

With a tilt of your head you consider your giant partner, turning slightly to press a kiss to his finger too that's supporting your shoulder.

You feel your giant tremble at the gesture, his face lowering to be closer to yours.

It's easy to lean up and press another kiss against his nose, his cheeks, under his eyes, against his forehead, against the corners of his mouth.

Ofius closes his eyes, leaning closer and closer to you, his hands tensing and untensing under you before he lifts you quickly once again, dropping onto his back in the soft bed and pressing you over his heart on his soft, warm chest. Back to where you first woke.

You can feel his heart hammering and out of an overwhelming affection, press a kiss to the skin just over the thunderous beating before curling up against that spot once more.

Ofius heart stutters in its beating before racing once more- something that has you smiling.

Eventually, the racing heart slows into a deep relaxed and content rhythm. Ofius is home in bed and safe to rest. His most beloved is within his grasp, protected and kept safe to rest as well. He could never ask for more than this moment right now. A giant finger gingerly stroking your back, looking down at you with such adoration, watching you rise and fall with his deep breaths from where you lay on his chest, knowing the action will lull you to sleep as it always does. "My little love. 'm glad you're happy here. 'm glad I was the one to find you that day. 'm glad you've not worried of your past home. You're gonna be safe here, always."

Ofius hand settles over you, keeping you warm amidst the frozen mountain sky just outside of the hand built cabin. Ofius will see to your comfort and happiness. He has since he first found you stranded in these lands. And he will continue to do so until his very heart gives out, maybe even longer.

He will.