#The cat has one eye and one ear and a bobbed tail

[oodlesodoodles]

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[fox-guardian]

[ID: Digital drawings of the OIAR staff from The Magnus Protocol as anthropomorphic cats on a gray background. They are all full body drawings. Sam is a black and white tuxedo cat, Alice is an orange and white cat with a bob tail, Celia is a Cornish Rex with a purple and white mottled "salty licorice" coat. Teddy is a brown British shorthair, Colin is a light brown Lykoi, Gwen is a fluffy diluted calico, and Lena is a shorthaired grey tabby with a bob tail.

The first image shows Sam, Alice, and Celia. Sam is shorter and fat, and he has curly black hair, and he is smiling with his hand held in front of him lightly touching. He is wearing a cream mockneck shirt, dark brown cardigan, and dark red trousers. Alice is tall and lanky, and she has shaggy light brown hair with faded pink tips, two pairs of silver earrings and snakebites, and she is wearing a burgundy bra, a patchwork skirt made of flannels in shades of gray, brown, and pink, a few bracelets, and pink cat-eye glasses and pink painted claws. She is slouching slightly with one arm crossed over the other, smiling and waving. Celia is slightly less tall and slim, and has short black hair, gold industrial piercings, X-shaped earrings and snakebite studs. She is wearing a light green button-down, purple vest with gold buttons, dark green trousers, a black cuff on her wrist, and rectangular glasses. She is standing and facing slightly to the side, with one hand around her back holding her other arm while that hand fidgets.

The second image is of Teddy and Colin. Teddy is fat and has a goatee and mustache, and small gold hoop earrings. He is wearing a gold and brown argyle sweater vest, a pale yellow button-down, a gold tie, and brown belt and trousers. He is smiling and waving with his other hand holding onto the side of his belt. Colin is skinny with pale skin visible through patches of fur, and he has a mustache, large cat whiskers, blue eyes, and small silver earrings. He is wearing a yellow t-shirt under a blue button-down and light brown hoodie, blue jeans with brown knee patches, a couple bracelets, and rectangular glasses with yellow lenses. He is snarling and hunched with his ears back and claws bared, looking furious.

The third image shows Gwen and Lena. Gwen is shorter and mid-sized with long blonde hair in a ponytail, and she is wearing a white button-down, gray sweater, and black pencil skirt. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides and looks annoyed at the viewer. Lena is taller and slim, with light brown hair in a bun, and silver oval glasses on a chain. She is wearing a red button-down, a brown belt, and white trousers. She has a neutral expression and one arm crossed over the other while the free hand lifted and fidgeting with her claws.

The fourth image is a lineup of all of them. In order: Sam, Alice, Celia, Gwen, Colin, Teddy, Lena. end ID]

~~~~

the magnyas protocol. protocat. catocol. catnus protocol. k. kitties <3

[dwaekkicidal]

Day 6

˚ʚLee Felix x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Day 6 of my 1K follower celebration! Today is pet play with Lix ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~700

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, pet play: cat ears + plug tail + leash use, use of 'master' and 'kitty', oral (m receiving), p in v for 2 seconds, not proofread well

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: that felix could tell me to jump off a bridge and do a flip and i wouldn't hesitate.

Read the other days here!

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Felix has a soft smile on his lips as he stares down at you and wraps the leash around his hand, making it so that you can’t move away from him. It's not like you wanted to anyway. That same hand lightly scratches under your chin as his other reaches up to fix the cat ears on your head that were tilted from the two of you making out passionately just moments prior. He then runs his thumb on that hand down your cheek and mentally takes a picture of you below him.

You were between his legs from where he sat on the couch, sitting on your calves while your hands were squished between your thighs. And between those thighs, he could faintly see the fluffy cat tail connected to the buttplug you wore. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you looked up at him with the cutest saucer eyes. He could tell you were itching to touch him, but you were waiting oh so patiently for his permission to do so. “My good little kitty… Always so well behaved for her master.” His deep voice rang in your ears as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

You release your lip to smile widely and watch as he reclines on the couch, removing his hand from your cheek in favor of resting it behind his head. “Go ahead, Kitty.” You immediately lean forward and eagerly unzip his pants. It makes him chuckle at how you were so cute yet so impatient to please your master. He lifts his hips to help you pull his jeans and boxers to his ankles and relaxes back into the cushions as your hands wrap around him.

The warmth from your hands has him sighing happily and his dick twitches as he watches you eagerly try to please him. You start by licking a long line from his base to his tip then slide the tip of your tongue through his slit, giving it a soft kiss and smiling up at him. He bites his lip and grins widely, softly yanking the leash. After doing this so many times with him and getting trained to remember his nonverbal signs, you already know what it means so you instantly obey, leaning forward and wrapping your pretty lips around his tip.

Your tongue swirls around it before you go deeper, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. One of your hands moves to rest on his lower stomach while the other uses its thumb and pointer finger to wrap around his base, squeezing it softly and stroking it as you begin to bob your head. He hits the back of your throat a few times, making you gag and making your throat close around his dick.

His eyebrows furrow and he groans loudly, unintentionally bucking his hips and shoving himself deeper into your mouth. “Baby-” His voice goes up a pitch and he throws his head back, moaning desperately into the air at the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped tightly around him. You feel pride bubble in your chest and you double your efforts, moving your head faster and now pumping him with your full hand around his base.

You feel the cat ears start to fall farther off your head each time his dick hits the back of your throat and you slow down, trying to reach up and fix them. But he isn’t having any of that. The second he feels the pace change he pops his head up to check on you. When he sees that you’re distracted, he frowns and tightens his hold on the leash. He uses it as leverage to pull you forward, forcing his dick all the way down your throat once again. Felix holds you there for a moment, moaning loudly at the feeling of you gagging around him, before letting you go.

You pull off of him coughing and sputtering as you try to catch your breath and he gives you little to no time before he tugs at the leash, motioning for you to climb up on his lap. Then he hovers you over his dick, pulls your panties to the side, and plunges into you. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as he uses the leash to pull you down on him, going as deep as possible. His fingers tug at the butt plug tail, teasingly pulling it just enough to stretch you out before it plops back in, making you shiver.

“C’mon. Be my good girl and ride me. Your master is waiting, kitty.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[phelia]

WHO WILL YOU BETRAY?

SIMONE / SIMON / SAGE JULES [SHE/HER — HE/HIM —THEY/THEM]

S had a dream, so when they could not fulfill it, they did the impossible for it. but don’t you dare ask them how they got there… unless you want to die. remember, the end justifies the means.

age: 25

zodiac sign: gemini [06/18]

mbti: intp.

likes: the stars and space.

dislikes: people, the beach.

comes from: Florida, United States.

if female, Simone has wavy chestnut brown hair, falling to her shoulders. black eyes and a nose piercing.

if male, Simon has short wavy hair above the tip of the ears. black eyes and a nose piercing.

if non-binary, Sage uses their hair on a small bun, but sometimes use in its natural wavy short hair. black eyes and a nose piercing.

DARCY / DANIEL / DEE STYLES [SHE/HER — HE/HIM —THEY/THEM]

D belonged to one of the biggest bands in the world. after their tragic breakup, D began taking not-so-good decisions along the way, getting a spot in Palm Tree. hope no one realizes who they really are!

age: 30

zodiac sign: pisces [03/07]

mbti: enfj.

likes: music, playing the guitar.

dislikes: screaming fans, stalkers.

comes from: London, England.

if female, Darcy has straight blond hair, just below the shoulders. luminous blue eyes, freckles on the nose. lip piercing.

if male, Daniel has a middle-part hairstyle, short to the tip of the ears. magnetic blue eyes, and freckles on the nose. lip piercing.

if non-binary, Dee has short straight hair above the shoulders. striking blue eyes and freckles on the nose. lip piercing.

MERLINA / MIGUEL / MAL SANTOS [SHE/HER — HE/HIM —THEY/THEM]

M is someone everyone should be scared of. no one really knows what they have done to end up there, but they do know they shouldn’t mess with them… until the escape plan comes to life.

age: 28

zodiac sign: virgo [09/14]

mbti: intj.

likes: football, cats.

dislikes: people who call football “soccer”.

comes from: Buenos Aires, Argentina.

if female, Merlina has black curly hair, falling through her back to the waist, but she always uses it in a long ponytail. big brown eyes, with long lashes, and round red lips.

if male, Miguel has medium-long curly hair, falling to the shoulders, but he always uses it in a ponytail. big brown eyes, and a charming smile.

if non-binary, Mal has pretty long curly hair, falling a few inches after the shoulders, but they always use it in a pony tail. big brown eyes, round lips, and marked dimples.

FAWN / FELIX / FALL REEVES [SHE/HER — HE/HIM —THEY/THEM]

F always claims that they are in for something they didn’t commit. but after years of being locked up, no one believes them… and sometimes, F doesn’t even believe they are innocent either.

age: 26

zodiac sign: libra [10/02]

mbti: infp.

likes: puppies, and romance novels.

dislikes: people who claim they are guilty.

comes from: Seattle, United States.

if female, Fawn has wavy ginger hair, falling just below her shoulders. with a freckled face, passionate green eyes, and gentle smile.

if male, Felix has very short military haircut (used to be a curly ginger). with a freckled face, lustful green eyes, and a kind smile.

if non-binary, Fall has a bob haircut accompanied with a blue ribbon. with a freckled face, greedy green eyes, and a tender smile.

OFFICER RODRIGUEZ [HE/HIM]

Officer Rodriguez loves you. and he can’t hide it even if he thinks he does. he is hopelessly in love and he would do anything… although that might cost him his job.

age: 32

zodiac sign: taurus [05/15]

mbti: enfj.

likes: MC.

dislikes: lies.

comes from: New Mexico, United States.

you don’t know Officer Rodriguez’s name. but he always looks the same. tanned and strong body, enchanting hazel eyes, and an enamored smile.

[cienfleurx]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ⁰⁰¹

✑ GENRE: slowburn. angst. nsfw 18+.

✑ WARNING: explicit language. mature themes. topics of violence and murder. stockholm syndrome (not the reader). sexual tension if you squint. reader is an executive. other bonten stuff. strictly mdni.

✑ SYNOPSIS: platonic love is a type of love that is neither sexual nor romantic; something that the executives have been feeling towards you for the past few years - or so they would like to believe.

(📂) ⇢ masterlist. 〡 (📂) ⇢ next chapter.

CHAPTER ONE | PLATONIC LOVE.

“No, because I’m gonna kill your fucking whore if you don’t give him to me!”

First thing in the morning and it was already a mess.

“Let’s just hope Boss gets here early.” one of the them muttered, as they heard another gunshot followed by the sound of what was most likely an ancient vase shattering. Poor Takeomi, he'll be furious to see his million-dollar vase broken into pieces by the four executives wreaking havoc on the first-floor corridors.

The majority of the personnel in the lobby couldn't help but sigh as they witnessed the present predicament occurring at the headquarters. It was just another day, another round of chaos from the foolish executives who had been attempting to murder each other for the nth time in the preceding years. Supposedly, these individuals were the said top dogs of the syndicate, but seeing all of this happen before their very own eyes had them doubting at the back of their mind, but not to the point of questioning their position as higher-ups.

The reason? Peluda, your Foldie Cat, had been kidnapped by the Bonten Trio yet again, as you chased their tails with a loaded Glock; a sight that did not even surprise them anymore.

“You.” the receptionist flinched when all of a sudden, you called for his attention, his Adams apple bobbing from your nerve-wrecking presence. You darted a glare at him as you motioned your head. “Get that fucking woman here. I’ll sample that son of a bitch why he should never mess with me.”

Sanzu came to a halt as he heard the command. Ran and Rindou, who had been tossing the Foldie Cat back and forth, are in the same boat. His emerald eyes fixated at the receptionist, glowering at his trembling frame when he caught sight of his movement ready to leave as if he was about to heed the woman's order.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You heard me.” you taunted the man, heading towards him with the cold metallic weapon in your grip. “I’ll bury a bullet on your head if you hesitate once more.”

“Goddamn chill, woman. Mikey will be furious if you touch Himari.” Ran tried to alleviate the tension, but you only shot him a look, positioning the pistol towards his direction. 

“Shit wouldn’t happen if you just give him back to me.” you spat.

Rindou rolled his eyes, plopping down the fluffy cat on the floor as its furry self rushed towards you, its paws trotting fast away from the devils that made him undergone the worst traumatic experience so far in order to rest in your arms, its quivering figure calming down a little when you stroke the base of its ears. “Okay, fine. Geez, can't even take a joke.”

You snarled at him, firing a bullet close enough to graze his cheek.

“Fuck!”

“Your dick is coming next if you fuck with me again.”

“No shit sherlock. This is why cats are the only bitches you have.” Rindou retorted, causing Sanzu and Ran to laugh like maniacs when your face contorted into some sort of displeasure before retreating into the endless corridors.

Truly, the executives couldn't go a day without feeling the satisfaction of holding your suffering in their hands.

Shit has been too hard ever since you became one of the notorious executives in Bonten; it didn't help that these jackasses were always picking on you, making you almost regret taking the title that Sano Manjiro had bestowed on you. They made it a thing to annoy you on a daily basis. Either with the ultimate love of your life being thrown in the air; the ball of sunshine disguised as cats, or with the set of difficult tasks they assigned to you, which almost led to a meeting with the grim reaper if it weren’t for luck backing you up.

Not once did they leave your presence alone; always treating you as if you were a toy who amused them each time you retaliated with your renowned Glock 19 in the clutch, and bothering you every day until all you see is red, firing bullets in the corridor until Takeomi scolds you for damaging his invaluable porcelains. 

However, despite the escapades and monkey tricks that they been pulling so far, best believe that there was not an actual bad blood happening between the both of you. This is just a daily occurrence of how the executives showed their love on one another. You, pointing their gun to them, while they made a run for it. You, threatening their lives, while they indulge in the satisfaction at the sound of your furious clicking heels stomping hard against the glistening marbles.

Surely, things would have been easy if only there were a bunch of Kakucho roaming around the organization, or if the other executives shared the same build as him — respectful, well-mannered, and real mature. He was one of the few gentleman who is courteous to women like you despite being a notorious criminal, and he earned your respect for that.

Just like right now, Kakucho Hitto was being a huge help and you couldn’t be anymore thankful to him for existing in this embodiment pit of hell.

“God. That’s the spot, Kaku. Push it more right there.” you groaned at the feeling of his thumb pressed against your shoulder blades, giving your tense muscle a light squeeze now and then as you relished under his massage. Today was one of those days when you and the navy-haired shared paperwork in his office, and as usual, Kakucho would lend a helping hand by massaging your stressed shoulder after too much documentation processing. Didn’t even help the fact when he found you worn-out in his doorstep, knowing the mess that you had probably just encountered with the Bonten Trio, Kakucho knew that you badly needed some relief over your exhaustion.

“Did I do it right?”

“Yeah. Just squeeze it like that.”

Kakucho did what you told, and you couldn’t help but hum.

“What the actual fuck.” Kokonoi exclaimed under his breath, eyes judgy at the scene playing in front of him. “For a second, I thought you guys are doing the thing.”

Kakucho blushed, because he too, agreed that when you moan like that, it sound like he was pleasuring you.

“Shut the fuck up, Hajime.”

“Can’t blame me. You just fucking moan, alright. Moan.”

“Moans doesn’t always need to be sexual.” you grumbled. 

“Whatever. Kakucho,” Kokonoi called out the navy-haired who seemed to be in a trance until the following words of the silver-haired reached his ears. “Himari’s in Sanzu’s office. You joining?”

You inaudibly sighed at what Kokonoi meant.

So, they were at it again.

Himari Ukishima; the poor woman you had threatened to take life earlier was out there, in Sanzu’s office yet again to pleasure all these executives’ dick.

The woman wasn’t even a whore to begin with. Mikey just found her enticing enough when he passed by a university, and decided to let the Bonten Trio kidnapped her and took her into the headquarters, and she’s been here for what? Almost a year now? Fucking and taking care of their cocks like the good girl she was.

She was basically a girl what the executives wanted; someone they wanted to corrupt and strip off their innocence, and they were no doubt successful from it. It’s Bonten — the worst criminal organization in Japan, what can you say? They fucked her dumb enough for her to develop Stockhold Syndrome. Crazy, you must say. She was one of those victims of their sensual gratification who had fallen deep into the lion’s den to bother escape or even ask for you help, which didn’t surprise you anymore as you think she’s also enjoying the feeling of five cocks in her body whenever you heard her pleas and whines.

“Quiet down, or I won’t hold back putting a bullet through her brain this time.”

You threatened, yet Kokonoi merely let out a smug grin, crossing his arms. The type of woman you are; all bark and no bite. He knew you would never do that. Himari Ukishima is Mikey's most-prized possession. Killing her means defying him, and you weren't one to disobey his orders.

Despite portraying the cold demeanor, Kokonoi knows how much of an obedient woman you are to Mikey.

He was your King; much like to how Sanzu worships him.

“Jealous cause you got no bitches?”

You scowled, growing tired of their old joke of teasing how you got no men to pleasure you. “What’s with you and the others flocking over my bitches?”

Sure, there were some of them, particularly from the clubs you own, though they weren’t like like Himari who had remained the longest period with them. Your sex drive was crazy; no man was able to withstand it and had always been the first one to pass out of consciousness before you could. Therefore, as naturally as you would, you had them dispose and let it be a memory of a one-night stand instead of keeping them by your side. 

However, Bonten would like to think you were just bore in bed that’s why you have no whores in your side. Little did they know, though.

“Well, maybe if you find a man who can last with you then we can stop. Though, I doubt you can find anyone as good as us.”

You raised a brow, intrigued.

"You implyin' something, Hajime?"

He hummed, something within his eyes flashing an emotion you couldn’t quite recognize in your years of being so-called friends.

Instead of responding, Kokonoi only brushed off the question with his right hand, leaving you on Kakucho's office to think if he actually meant something behind his words or he was just messing around with you to rattle your emotions — well, that is, until one by one, you heard sinful groans, whines, and skin slapping from the office next door that made you bury your face on your palms, damn interrupted from thinking and even working from the paper works.

"Stupid fucks, I told them to quiet down." 

✑ NOTE: let me know if you wanted to be added on my taglist ! <3

[nonobadcat]

For @oklolnoty

Down the Rabbit Hole - Five Chapters - 20k words - Yandere Shigaraki Tomura x Rabbit Quirk Female Reader

Rating: 18+ readers only - Minors DNI

Whole story TW: Noncon, yandere with kidnapping, severe quirk based discrimination, binge drinking, canon typical threats of violence (reader directed), canon typical death (nonreader directed), oral (give/receive), PnV (doggie), breeding, and expensive designer clothing everywhere.

Summary:

Working at Animal Instinct, the city's premiere hostess club for those who like their girls "pawsitively" attractive, may pay the bills but it'll cost your soul. Playing the brainless bunny girl everyone expected you to be, you were prepared to waste your life selling over priced champagne and sham companionship just to afford rent. When your efforts are rewarded with the client from hell, you try to stick to your bubblegum bimbo persona. However, being called boring by some crusty incel with the social skills of a trashcan is not something your pride can let slip by. ...and finding someone who hates society's games as much as him is not something Shigaraki Tomura can let go.

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Chapter 1: Dumb Bunny - 3.4k words

TW: Binge drinking, quirk based discrimination

“Omigosh he’s back again!”

Plastered against the glossy black bathroom door, Nyanko’s twisted grimace and bristling tail ill suited her glamorous styling. Rhinestone trimmed claws pawed for purchase as an annoyed shriek hissed between tight teeth. It was fortunate that lilac satin squeezed her willowy frame like a vice. The very dress that transformed her bust line from “average” to “savage” restricted her air intake, keeping her whining to a polite volume.

Twisting the golden cap of your Yves Saint Laurent lipstain back on, you dabbed at your cupid’s bow. “Crusty boy?”

“Yes!” She groaned, pinning her cat ears to her skull. “Mama-san has paired him with twelve different girls in the last month. Boy’s got a heart made of Teflon! Won’t stick to anyone!”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought this club was a kurabu? Isn’t the first pairing long term?”

“His dad is some sort of big deal so he gets special treatment, but mostly it's a mutual hate-hate thing,” Nyanko explained, wagging her finger. “He can’t find a girl he likes and all the girls beg Mama-san to let him try someone else. Even Aru didn’t want him and you know she has thick skin!”

“Quirk~ist,” you sang out, tucking your make-up back in the small, pearled handbag. “Just because she has an armadillo quirk doesn’t mean her soul is armor plated.”

Nyanko’s tabby tail swished. “Why does he keep coming back if he’s never happy?” she demanded, stomping her spike heels.

“I like those.” You nodded to the red bottoms. “The flower lace on the mesh is cute.”

“I know, right!” She twisted this way and that, showing off the shimmering details. “Abe-san got them for me last week. I think he has a foot thing but I’m not complaining.” All at once, her hair bristled. “Wait! Don’t try to change the subject! I’m in a real bind here!”

You popped your lips, smoothing down a stray lock of hair. “Oh? Why?”

“Because I’m one of the few he hasn’t chewed up yet!” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I’m terrified Mama-san will pair me with that creep next!”

“Then quit your job and take Abe-san up on that mistress position. It’s not like he can last more than twenty seconds anyways so you won’t have to do much work.”

Her face fell flat. “Honey, hell’s got your name.”

You kicked off the faux marble tile and strutted over to the petite, raven-haired cutie. A single finger reached out, straightening the curl of her long bob. Patting her shoulder, you flashed her a grin and whispered in her ear. “Then it’s a good thing none of us go by our real names here, isn’t it?” 

She giggled before rolling her eyes towards your new lip color. “Speaking of 'people who just want to take a poor girl away from this place', is that a gift from your one hero client?”

You nodded. “Oshida bought it for me on the paid date. Asked me if he could put some of his cum in it.”

“Guess he’s not as family friendly as his press agent makes him out to be,” she muttered.

“I told him I couldn’t use it if he did because I’d be too addicted to the taste.”

Nyanko flashed you a judgey side eye and pushed open the bathroom door. “How are you that good a liar?”

“Nyanko, what are you talking about?" You plastered on an airy smile. Each word tumbled out wrapped in sweetness. "Everyone knows that bunny girls aren’t smart enough to lie. ♡” 

The words burned bitterly on your tongue.

Nyanko huffed, turning on heel. “I hate you.”

“Hate you more, sweetie,” you teased, following her down the long hall.

Pink tiles with golden veins lead the way to the reception desk. On your right, Animal Instict's main bar buzzed with flirtatious conversation, fake smiles, and exhausted salary men. One of the puppy girls, wrapped in cherry red spandex and ten centimeter black platforms, clung to her elderly client's arm like a fly on garbage. 

"Is Pochi back early from her paid date?" You asked, slipping under the glossy countertop.

"Kiba-san's bunions are acting up," Nyanko whispered, cupping the side of her face. "You know, the bunions that flare up when Pochi wants a fourth helping of foie gras."

You looked the other hostess up and down. Her rosy cheeks glowed as she smoothed her glossy tail across her lap. "She's pounding the champagne again. Her heat cycle must be close."

Nyanko waved her hand. "Don't date the dog if you ain't got the bank."

"Catty of you."

She hissed.

"Ladies," a firm voice warned. "You are on the floor."

You both turned towards a sultry middle-aged woman. Clad in a cocktail dress crafted from delicate golden mesh and rhinestones, her long, peacock plumage glittered every shade from sea green to deep navy in the warm light. She fixed you with a sharp glare before snapping open a fan. Its fluttering teased at her long, fake lashes.

"Yes, Mama-san," you replied in synchrony, bowing your heads to the boss.

She narrowed her eyes, craning her long, graceful neck to inspect your makeup. When it passed muster, she snapped the fan shut. "Honey, Tano-san requested you tonight as Usagi is out with a migraine."

Wow… just going to work his way through the bunny girls, huh? Guy wasn’t even subtle about his fetish.

"Of course," you agreed, bowing again. "Thank you, Mama-san."

Mama-san turned her scrutinizing gaze towards your companion. “Nyanko—” she crooked boney finger— “come with me.”

Nyanko’s ears drooped. “Y-yes, Mama-san…”

Mama-san rapped the cat girl with the lacey fan. “Professionalism.”

Nyanko forced a pained grin before snatching up a hot towel from the stack. “O-Of course!”

You shook your head, selecting a rolled towel of your own and placed it on a silver platter. Then, smearing on an airheaded smile, you followed the leader around the large, gangly money tree. Just past its scraggly leaves, two men came into view.

On the left, dressed in a deep navy sport coat and matching pleated pants stood a solemn faced man in his late sixties. He peered into the entryway’s mirror, fussing with his thinning, silver streaked hair. The wide, rose-gold rolex watch made his wrist look fat and did horrible things for his yellow undertones. When you came into view, he jerked away from his preening. Hungry eyes traced the line of your leg from heel to hem. His thick tongue lapped at the corner of his mouth.

“Tano-san,” your boss guiding you forward. “This is Honey Bunny.”

“It's so good to meet you, Tano-san!” You added a sugar rush bounce to your step. “We hope Usa-chan should feel better soon. I hope it’ll be okay if I take care of you for her until she’s better?”

With a grunt, he took the towel, clumsily groping your fingers along the way.

Mama-san turned to the man on the right. Hiding his face behind a mop of pale blue waves, a surly looking twenty something hunched against the wall. Blazing red eyes stared out from under hairless brows. He tugged at his collar, as if the beautifully tailored Armani three-piece was strangling him. It wasn’t hard to guess how he got the moniker “crusty boy”. Patchy scale peeled from his under eye bags. 

“Shigaraki-san, this is Nyanko-chan.”

Nyanko playfully scratched the air, before speaking out in a voice half an octave higher than her own. “It’s a purr-asure to Meow-chu, Shigaraki-san! I hope we can become good friends!”

He sneered at Nyanko before raking his neck with ratty, broken nails. 

Your coworker smiled so hard you thought her face might tear. “Would mew like a hot towel?”

He plucked the moist terry cloth from her outstretched hand with two fingers. He half-heartedly scrubbed his hands before walking right past her. “Let’s get this over with.”

Nyanko’s tail drooped as she skittered off after her guest. You pressed a coy hand to your lips to hide a grimace.

This was going to be a long night.

One hour into the evening, you would have paid Usa-chan to take her client back. 

At first, you thought Tano simply fumbled his cigarettes due to some nervous condition. However, after the third one in half an hour, you caught beady eyes peering down the front of your dress as you leaned in to light them. He ordered nothing but the cheapest wine on the menu (2.6k yen per glass + the 25% service fee) and nursed his drink like an old woman. Those squirmy hands of his kept “accidentally” brushing against your tail every time he shifted in his seat. Conversation was hard fought and mostly about how much he hated his boss. 

“Are you and Usa-chan related?” he asked for the fifth time that night.

You brushed your long, silky ears back. “Well, I’m a Lop and she’s a Lionhead.”

“Oh. So it’s not the same thing?”

If you smiled any harder your teeth would crack. “I know, right? They sound so similar I always get them confused.” You hoisted the green bottle up. “Here, it looks like you need a refill—”

He quickly covered the glass with his palm. “Let me touch your ears?”

Rot in the gutter, you steaming trash heap.

Hesitant humming accompanied a thoughtful head tilt. “Mama-san kinda sorta told me I’m not supposed to because it’s against club rules or something.” You clicked your tongue and beamed at him. “Makes me sad because I love having my hair brushed. Oh well, right?”

He scooted closer. “You could just ignore her.”

Wide, panicked eyes sold the frantic, high pitched squeak. “Omigosh! But it’d be bad to do that right?”

Rancid breath poured over your bare neck. “I can make being a bad bunny really fun.”

Die.

You laughed, “playfully” shoving his shoulder so hard it pushed him a solid half meter away.  “Oh Tano-san! No wonder Usa-chan loves you so much. You’re so funny!”

…and wringing your floppy neck with your ugly Gucchi tie would be even funnier.

On the other side of the tufted leather booths, Nyanko seemed to fare even worse. 

“So… Shigaraki-san, do you work for your paw-ther?”

“He’s my mentor, not my father.”

“Oh! That’s so neat! So he’s like a father to mew?”

One word grated through gritted teeth. “No.”

Nyanko winced at the harsh tone, her smile shaken for only a moment before she rallied. “Your mentor must be very generous to send you here so Meow-ften.”

“It’s annoying,” he groused, scratching his neck like a dog with fleas. The pungent stench of iron caught on the breeze from the air conditioning. All the women around you wrinkled their sensitive noses.

“It doesn’t have to be.” Nyanko placed one hand on the cream leather next to his thigh and leaned in. A long golden necklace slipped down her décolletage, pointing the eye towards her assets. Pouty lips forced her tongue high against her fangs, playing up an alto’s vocal fry. Delicately, she twirled her hair behind her pointed ear. Dangling diamonds glittered in the dim glow of the teardrop chandelier. Round, golden eyes peered at him from under sooty lashes. “Neh, Shigaraki-san, what kind of girl do mew like?”

The booth squeaked as he scooted away. “Someone real.”

“I’m all nyan-tural,” she purred, letting her free hand trail down her bust.

With a sharp “chcc”, he groped for his cell phone. 

Nyanko cocked her head. “Oh? Nyu like video games?”

“A little,” he muttered, loading up an app. Comic book style red and yellow text exploded across the screen. Four different voices called out: “Hero Center Battle Royale!!!!”.

“Ooooh!” She clapped her hands together. “Which ones do mew like?”

“The ones where the heroes die.”

“Sounds exciting!”

“More exciting than this conversation.”

Fight on, Nyanko-chan!

While your coworker clawed for any hint of mutual interest, Tano leaned back into his seat and manspread until he was pressed against your bare thigh. “Seems like the pretty kitty is having a rough time.”

Awk-ward….

“Really?” You smiled so hard the muscles below your eyes spasmed. “It sounds like she’s having fun learning a lot about a new person to me.”

Face flushed, your patron sipped his wine. “You’re kinda a dumb bunny, aren’t you?”

Yeah… That’s what your university professors thought too. At least, until your grades put you second in your class by only three points. Maybe if they stopped staring at your ears long enough, they would have seen the brain between them.

“Nyanko-chan loves to meet new people,” you chirped back, sitting on quivering hands to avoid throttling your meal ticket.

Tano thumbed his chin. “Wonder if she’s so persistent because she’s gonna go into heat.”

Ew… can you just not?!

"That must be a pain, going into heat.” Beady eyes flashed to you. "You do too, right?"

Gross. Disengage! Disengage!

You tapped your chin. "Huh… I dunno. Maybe bunnies are different or something." 

…cause a three second Google search couldn't have told his horny self that?! Seriously…

Faking a sweet smile you reached for his glass. “Heat or no heat, I think that connecting with others is a reward in and of itself."

And if Tano could connect the dots he would have the decency to GO HOME if he wasn’t going to drink.

He pulled his cup away. "I don't need a refill."

You set the bottle down. "Oh! My bad! I just really wanted to take care of you. You worked really hard after all. You deserve a little rest."

He leaned back into his seat and smiled to himself. "Yeah. Guess I do."

Ugh… Just drunk enough to be a self-centered douchebag, but not enough to get you a sales bonus. This sucked.

He cracked open one eye and glanced at you. "But seriously, aren’t you even a little worried about her or are you just too stupid that to read the room?”

You leaned into your palm, using the thick of your hand to stifle the snarl. “Finding the right fit for every guest can be hard but everyone here loves the challenge.” One ear flopped across your eye. You inhaled, letting the rise of your ribs strain the bust of your gown. “I’m just so glad we have such good chemistry.”

His greasy grin made you nauseated. Greedy eyes drank up your coworker’s long tail and tufted ears. He licked his lips. “Should I offer to save her then? Having two of you around sounds like fun.”

….and entirely defeated the point of coming to the type of classy club where you are supposed to have an intimate, one-on-one conversation with your hostess. Not to mention, you’d have to split the tip. Then again, that assumed this cheapskate didn’t skip it all together.

You bit your cheek until the taste of iron pricked your tongue. Painted lips slipped into a puffy pout. You turned your head, letting tears pool at your lash line. Ducking low to play up the shadows between your cleavage, you pinched his sleeve between two fingers like a schoolgirl tugging on her crush.

“Ah… I suppose it’s true that Tano-san is so cool he could have two women at once.” 

His breath caught in his wrinkled throat.

With a forlorn smile, you glanced down at the connection between you before dropping his sleeve like it shocked you. Your voice pitched high as you hurried out a breathless apology. “Oh! Sorry!” Nervous fingers prodded together as you hid behind one ear. “When I am around a man like you, I-I sometimes just get these instincts...” 

He gulped.

Time to go in for the kill. 

Your eyes danced away from his. “It’s been such a long time since I felt this way, I forgot that it happens. It’s hard, but I’ll try to control myself better.”

Tano reached for your hand, but you pulled it away to bop it into your fist. “Oh! Speaking of instincts, Usa-chan told me once that you negotiated a lot of big contracts for your company. How did you get so good at your job?”

He leaned back into the booth, puffing out his chest. Wrapping one arm over the back of the chair, he crooked his finger at you. “Come a little closer and I’ll be happy to share.”

Ugh… You needed a drink.

“Oh my gosh, Honey-chan he was just the worst!”

Nyanko’s whiskers tickled the side of your neck as she buried her face in your shoulder. You sighed, wrapping your arm around her. The smell of fried food and beer wafted in the summer air. Plump moths collided with the streetlight three paces away. Two wobbly salary men waved. The one wearing a tie on his forehead blew a wet kiss. Your party of three wiggled your fingers and giggled like shy school girls. As soon as they were out of sight, the smiles dropped like corpses on a battlefield.

You patted Nyanko’s shoulder. “There, there. You did what you could.”

She sniffled, fanning her flushed face. You passed her a tissue. She dabbed at her make-up. Flecks of mascara peeled onto pale paper. Another sob wracked her body. “WHAT DOES HE WANT!?” she wailed.

“Seriously,” Pochi scratched her dangling ears. “Mama-san gave him to me last week. He told me ‘your skills need a level up’. What does that even mean?!” She swished her silky black tail. “Let’s see his mummy lips pull three champagne towers in one night!”

“Three? Were you in heat?”

She sneered wide enough to flash her canines. “I faked it.”

You laughed. “Hot, but scary Pochi-sama.”

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, motioning to Nyanko’s limp body. “Blame Little Miss Crafty Kitten there. For 30,000 yen, she gave me a run down on my tells and I did my make-up and perfume to mimic them. Worth every penny.”

Nyanko’s blank eyes stared at nothing. “I am a good hostess. I am a good hostess. I am a good hostess.”

You gave her a long side eye. “You charged 30,000 yen for that?”

A shaking hand rose into the air. She clenched her thumb and index finger into a ring.

“And I’m the one going to hell?” you teased, handing her off to Pochi. “Here. I forgot something at the club. You two get going before the last train leaves. I’m close enough to walk.”

“Whatever,” Pochi groaned, hugging the crying cat to her chest. “Come on Nyanko. You had too much to drink.”

With a gentle wave, you watched them as they staggered down the sidewalk leaving only Nyanko's miserable whining in their wake. When the last sob slipped into silence, the false feelings melted from your expression. Every hair on your neck bristled. A hard heel thumped on the pavement. Fists clenched to your side, you dashed off into the nearest alleyway. Wrenching off your expensive pumps, you set them on the ground out of reach. Your vision swam blood red, you zeroed in on the filthy dumpster. All at once, a frustrated shriek tore through the night air.

"SCREW YOOOOOUUUUU!”

You slammed your heel down into the dumpster, leaving a dent in the rust.

"SCREW YOU! SCREW THIS JOB! SCREW EVERYTHING!”

Blow after blow rained down on the innocent trash receptacle. 

"DUMB BUNNY MY COTTON FLUFFY TAIL! I HAVE MORE BRAIN CELLS IN MY MANICURE THAN YOU HAVE IN YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY TREE!

Twisted metal groaned under the weight of your fury. Memories of fresh-from-college job interviews flashed through your mind.

"I don't know that you're a good fit for our culture." "You seem really nice but we're only looking for serious candidates." "Oh…. I have another position you can interview for, sweetie."

Judgey stares and smarmy grins seared your brain. Lava hot rage bubbled through your veins as you kicked the dumpster five centimeters off its axis.

"I'D THREATEN TO RAZE THIS WHOLE SOCIETY BUT NONE OF YOU IDIOTS ARE EVEN SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN RAZE AND RAISE!"

Panting and raspy, you heaved for air in the middle of the pavement. With a final huff you tossed your hair, hiked up your purse, and strutted away.

At the end of the alley, bloodshot scarlet eyes were watching your entire tantrum. Just below them, a ghostly white smile glinted in the flickering amber light.

Next Chapter Expected: June 30th, 2023

Expected Completion Date: Mid-Aug 2023

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Taglist: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @shig-a-shig-ah @castershellwrites @smilinghowever @krystalwithakay @iris-goddess @ss-syche @mortallysparklyfun @meameows @magnificentclodpiezonk @betterfettered @utena-akashiya @ventdavi154 @st4rrust @imaginedheroine @the-lady-writes-what @shiggysimp69 @toughbook @naughteehee

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: The Marketplace Incident

~ my little written sketch for @vesuviaweekly's prompt "How Things Went Wrong (feat the Arcana familiars)". Enjoy an afternoon from the perspective of my fandom self-insert :3 ~

Word count: 1.5k

The marketplace really is the best spot to write in. The bustle of afternoon shoppers in the sunny square is a soothing view from my shaded nook, tucked between Selasi's booth and an alleyway of stairs. The steady sea breeze makes the parchment in front of me flutter, carrying the smell of spiced bread as it tousles my hair from my forehead.

"Need a refill?" The baker leans on the stone wall above the low table I'm pretending to draft my next story on. "Maybe it will help the ink flow better."

"Thanks, Selasi, but I'm afraid I've barely had a sip." I gesture to my mostly-full clay cup. "It's a good blend, though - what did you use for it this time?"

"A craftsman never shares his secrets." He hunches closer, not-so-subtly trying to sneak a peek at my handwriting. "What is today's writing about? More of our six friends' adventures, by a friendly young man whose signature is a rotting brain?"

I roll my eyes at his teasing smile. "Okay, using the moniker 'brainrot' doesn't automatically mean gruesome physical decay -"

We both jump at the sudden cat's yowl from the direction of the baker's counter. A fuzzy orange blur streaks to my corner, tiny claws digging into my shirt as it uses me as a ladder to get to Selasi's shoulder.

"Pounce? What is it, little one?"

"Bad dogs!" Faust's face pops into view, her body slowly unwinding from the cloth umbrella over me.

I barely have time to stabilize her plop onto my arm before I catch sight of two more barking fuzzy blurs tearing around the corner, a screeching raven flapping frantically after them. All three start heading in my direction as soon as they see me stand up to intervene. "Mercedes, Melchior! Come here!"

As ill-trained as I know Lucio's dogs are, the half-finished roll I hold out in their direction is more than enough to convince them. They slide to a halt in front of me, paws and tail still skittering from side to side, eyes trained on the treat. The flustered raven descends on my shoulder and Faust scoots onto Selasi's arm to give him more space.

"It's rare to see these fellows here without their owners ..." The baker runs his hand over Pounce's bushed-out tail in a soothing arc. "Did something happen?"

"What didn't happen?" I mumble in response. I don't think I recognize the strange goop Faust has left on my shirt, or the hooped earring in Malak's beak, or the concerningly pleasant smell wafting off of the dog's silky coats. I hold out my palm in front of the bird on my shoulder. "Give me the shiny, please. Which friend did you take this from?"

"Took it when I squeezed!"

"Who did you squeeze, Faust? Was it Julian?"

"Stinky count. Stole my fishies!"

The hissed voice clearly belongs to a cat, but it's not coming from the trembling ginger tabby in Selasi's arms. Pepi lopes into view on the wall above me with a smug look on her little face. Oh, right. I keep forgetting that she learned how to talk ...

"Lucio ... stole your fish?"

"Pepi earned the fishies - Pepi was a good cat and caught all the rats! Went to the docks to get the fishies, but he took them first!"

I try to piece the narrative together, noticing what looks like a pearly white owl listening in from the roof of the booth. "So ... Portia went to buy Pepi some fish, but Lucio bought them first? Where did the earring come from?"

"Master tried to help!"

"Oh, did Asra try to trade their earring for the fish? I thought his piercings closed up years ago."

Malak caws loudly in protest. Faust wiggles and bobs from her perch on Selasi's shoulder as the distant owl takes off for a different corner of the marketplace.

"Not Master's earring."

I study the golden hoop, finally catching the protective gleam in Malak's eye. "Ohh, this is Julian's, isn't it? Okay, from the top." I watch five pairs of animal eyes point back in my direction. "Portia went to get fish for Pepi, but Lucio bought them first. Asra tried to intervene, and then Julian offered an earring that he apparently owns to bargain for the fish with. Is that right?"

I almost miss the variety of nods when a thick coat of fur unexpectedly brushes across the backs of my knees. When I look down, it's right into Inanna's bright green eyes - and the torn bag of rice in her mouth. She drops it at my feet, spilling the grains across the ground and sending Malak into a flurry of indignant squawks. The wolf curls up for a nap at my heels, completely unfazed. Selasi gently sets Faust on my abandoned parchment and returns to his oven with an amused "good luck!"

"O-Okay." I drag my hand down my face and do my best to analyze the mess. "So why do the dogs smell nice, why is Faust slimy enough to smudge my ink, and why am I the one currently holding Julian's mystery hoop?"

"Squeeze the thief! Rescue the shiny! Run away fast!"

Faust bleps her tongue proudly, while Pepi takes a smug seat on the stones and the dogs begin to growl. One warning huff from the large wolf pretending to sleep behind me quietens the impending ruckus.

"And ... do I want to know about the slime and the fruity smells?"

Pepi yawns above me, slowly succumbing to the sun-warmed wall. "Beauty stall."

Faust curls herself elegantly over my story draft in an attempt to flaunt her shiny scales. "Moisturize."

"You're practically glowing, Faust. Such a beautiful girl!" Asra's trotting in my direction, a very sweaty pair of Devorak siblings close behind and a red-faced ex-count bringing up the rear. The magician scoops her up off of the table, my freshly hydrated parchment going with it, as Pepi uses the top of my head as a springboard into Portia's arms. Julian gives his judgemental raven a sheepish look before brightening at the earring in my palm.

"Did you leave us the rice trail, Faust?" Asra scritches the serpent's chin.

"Wait - rice trail? What rice trail? Is that how you knew where you were going? Where did they get - my rice!"

Inanna gives the shocked doctor a guiltily amused look, nudging the torn bag with her nose and watching the last of the grains spill onto my feet. Lucio straightens from where's been fussing over his perfumed dogs, finally catching his breath.

"Hah! Serves you right for trying to take my fish!"

Portia bristles and turns on him as Inanna slinks off to the large figure skulking in the shadows several booths away. "Your fish? That vendor and I have been friends for three years, you heard him say that I'd get first pick!"

I can't tell if Lucio is grinning or gritting his teeth. "Does it matter? I already paid for those things, they were the least smelly ones!"

"Enough!" The Countess's firm voice rings across the corner of the square, effectively halting the brewing squabble that's hijacking my writing corner. Chandra reassumes her perch on the baker's booth roof as Nadia rubs her temples in resigned frustration. "I have already paid for a year's worth of cosmetics. I have no interest in paying for your argument with a headache as well."

She heaves a tired sigh as the familiars settle in with their owners, sparing me a comforting glace. "Considering the paperless state of your table, I trust there were no writing casualties involved?"

Portia scurries over with a worried look. "Oh, I'm so glad you hadn't started yet!"

"Well ..."

"I think we did interrupt him, unfortunately." Asra's already taking a seat at my table, holding a fresh bowl of rolls in one hand and my smudged paper in the other while Faust hides guiltily in their shirt. "What's a 'ringtone'?"

Julian helps himself to the paper. "Allow me - perhaps I can shed some light on - ah!"

I've already given up hope on restoring my draft, so I don't wince nearly as badly as my friends do as a sharp, golden hand snatches my handwriting and rips it in the process. Lucio's pout deepens the further he reads. "I'm not in this."

"He's probably not finished it." Nadia holds her hand out, impervious to Lucio's begrudging surrender, and carefully offers the paper back to me. "We should leave you in peace, or you'll never meet your deadline."

Portia takes the cue and begins herding Lucio back to the docks for a fresh round of fish. Nadia gives Asra a pointed look, resulting in them stuffing the last of their roll into their mouth and rising from the cushions. They leave the last two pieces of bread for me.

"Julian," I call as he turns away, "one more question."

"Ah - yes?"

"What's the story with the earring?"

"Oh!" He flushes unexpectedly, fumbling the hoop away into his pocket. "... it, ah, it doesn't go in my ear. Adieu!"

[naamahdarling]

I got permission to post pics of my boyfriend's Giftmas present!

It's customized Littlest Pet Shop kitties to match our Magical Kitties Save the Day characters! I hope you like them!

Top, Boogie, bottom left Little John, middle Silas, right Notch.

These lil guys are like 2" tall, so they are really little and fiddly to work on.

More below the cut!

Silas, my boyfriend's PC, a lovely boy good at solving problems and helping others feel better. His magical power is aura reading. He lives in an occult bookshop and I painted him after one of my favorite breeds, the Somali (aka longaired Abyssinian). I sculpted extensively around his eyes to change their shape.

Boogie/Bougainvillea/Boogs, the heart of the party. Scrappy little tough girl, brave, silly, very young and so full of life and joy. She loves humans and craves adventure. My fave NPC in a REALLY long time. She has sonic/sound powers she doesn't know about yet. She's the one I made Fat and Even Cuter. Also note her snaggletooth and funny half-squint. I sculpted that! I also bobbed her tail, which you can't see. Please note how little she is compared to the others. Her body is the size of the last joint of my thumb!

Notch, originally Firefly. He can fly on magical shimmery wings. He grew up in one of the wild prides surrounding town but a change in leadership had him heading into human habitation. He drifts around the town now, belonging to no one...but his new kitty family of Boogs and Silas. Despite being a former champion for his pride, he is thoughtful, quiet, and kind. And around Silas, he is very very shy. 🎶 Whoa-oh-oh, caught in a cat romance! 🎶

I sculpted him a stronger chin and put a notch in his ear but he's otherwise unchanged.

Aaaaand Little John. He's a crotchety, ancient Persian who lives in Treehouse Toys as a shop cat, where he spends most of his time sleeping amid the plush toys, for which he is frequently mistaken. His grumpy nature means few kitties visit to hear the tall tales of adventure he tells, and fewer still believe them, but know this: Little John was once a hero.

Little John was extensively altered. I altered his muzzle and chin for the Persian look, made him bulkier in the body, doubled his ruff, gave him old man eyebrows, and gave him a lot more sculpted fur on his head.

I want to do a few more if there's time (merkitty himbo Tiptoe, wise old seer Briar, cheerful champion Kindlebright, brave pride leader and mother Vix, eyeless quasi-feline shadow entity Asphodel) but my big concern is making a little forest display for them so they can sit on a bookshelf together.

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Fourteen

(AO3 counterpart here.)

It didn’t take long for ThunderClan to settle; for once, the ranks were content to nest together, tucked away cozily in a corner of the barn surrounded by sharp-cornered clumps of dried grass that Barley told the kits were called “haybales”. Fireheart just gazed around at the inside of the huge barn, reminiscing about the last time he was here: as an apprentice, resting on his way to the ceremony in the Mother, where he felt the blessing of Horoa course through his body and welcome him into the Clans.

With Spottedleaf.

Fireheart let the familiar lump of grief bob in his throat before swallowing it, distantly marveling at how the feeling of loss had faded over time. Did that mean he was caring less? He hoped not.

“Yellowfang!” Barley’s grand voice shook Fireheart out of his reverie and he looked to watch the heavyset loner meet up with the tiny seer as she limped over to him. “It’s been a while. Wish we could chat again in better circumstances.”

Yellowfang grunted. “No point in wishing. The forest burns and Suriin dashes it with rain. Nothing to be done about it.”

“Good to see disasters don’t change you,” Barley said warmly, eyes creased with amusement. “Speckletail said you were the one to alert the Clan this afternoon.”

Another grunt, and Yellowfang tossed her head. “The fool girl and I were told to stay awake the whole day in a vision. StarClan, for once in these cold months, was helpful.”

Barley shook his head, looking amazed. “Of all the spirits I hear about, StarClan and their dedication to the living awes me the most. They really did save all of your lives.” His face fell a little. “Almost all.”

“None of that now,” Yellowfang said. “Let the Clan rest as they grieve.”

She looked backwards at the gathered apprentices, who had their noses high in the air and ears perked. Fireheart watched them too, silently tickled at the almost nose-clogging scent of mouse and rat seeming to overwhelm the young cats. They certainly didn’t have the faces of cats that had just escaped a fire with their lives. Snowpaw in particular wagged his fluffy tail from side to side in eagerness, his blue eyes sparkling.

That was a good opportunity. Fireheart walked up to them and cleared his throat to get their attention. Brightpaw nudged Snowpaw when he didn’t look back down and he quickly followed suit.

“This Barn is overrun with mice, chriil*,” Fireheart said, signing ‘prey’ for Snowpaw. “Would you like to see how much you can catch for everyone?”

The hearing siblings almost jumped as they all straightened up in excitement. Brightpaw tip-tapped in place, gleefully near-shouting, “I bet I can catch the most!”

“I’ll catch more than you!” Brackenpaw said, and almost took off before catching himself and tapping Snowpaw, giving him the ‘go’ and ‘prey’ signs.

Snowpaw took off for one corner of the Barn without a word, leaving his siblings to scatter for different haybales and clumps of the stuff. Fireheart watched them go with a purr, glancing at Yellowfang and Barley, who had watched the whole thing.

“They’ll need that energy,” Yellowfang said, as Fireheart trotted over to her. “Once the Clan has rested for a day and a night, I and the girl will take them to the Mother.”

“During this?” Fireheart asked, tilting his head.

Yellowfang stuck her jaw out. “No better time, boy. They haven’t even need to waste a whole day traveling.”

“Fair enough.”

Fireheart fell silent and watched the apprentices as they sprinted after fat mice, or pounced like foxes into piles of hay and withdrew with prey in their jaws. In a very short amount of time, a not-too-small pile of mice and rats had built up, all of them delightfully fat. Slowly, heads lifted and eyes brightened with the now-exhausted apprentices taking one piece of prey at a time to each of their Clanmates.

Snowpaw in particular placed one at Ravenwing’s tucked-together paws and gently patted his neck with his paw to get his attention. When Ravenwing looked up, Snowpaw gestured something Fireheart couldn’t translate from here, and Ravenwing nodded once with two blinks. His eyes were still dull and his ears back, but he pulled the mouse closer to himself and signed something with his ears and a jut of his head. Snowpaw gave his mentor a lick between the ears before trotting away, his face troubled.

“Good lad,” Barley remarked, watching the apprentice fetch more mice. “Very good.”

Fireheart said nothing. He just nodded, his eyes still on his friend.

The day wore on and the rain stopped, and gradually the Clan fell back asleep. It was a late start in the night when everyone slowly woke up, but the general agreement was that it couldn’t be helped. Teaselfoot went out briefly and returned with the news that the fire was no longer visible, but a big cut of the forest was still smoking. There had been several of the boxy red cars stationed around the forest as well, and with that came the certainty that humans were still in the forest. Bluestar, looking very tired and emotionally drained, announced the Clan would stay for a few more nights until there was no smoke or humans left. Given the incredible amount of prey around and the warmth of their shelter against the air growing steadily colder, the Clan did not have an issue with this.

Yellowfang kept to her word: after speaking with the apprentices’ mentors, she announced to Frostfur’s litter that they’d be going to the Mother. She received a squeal of excitement from Brightpaw and Fireheart was certain she was about to swat the molly for yelling in her ears. The brothers were more subdued, but in the way of barely being able to restrain themselves from reacting with intense volume too. Snowpaw seemed to understand from reading Yellowfang’s lips and Ravenwing getting himself together and translating for the seer, but his reason for excitement was a little different.

“He’s thinking that he’ll feel the Mother’s power more than his siblings,” Ravenwing explained as Frostfur busily groomed her kits to ensure they had no straws left on their bodies before they went. “Since he can’t hear anything, he won’t be distracted.”

Greystripe hummed. “That could be an advantage, yeah. Don’t tell him it’s practically silent in there anyway.”

Ravenwing made a poor effort at a chuff, which came out as a somewhat-forceful breath.

“He’ll be able to understand Yellowfang’s words while she does the ceremony, right?” Fireheart asked.

“He’s gotten way better at lip-reading, so I think so.” Ravenwing nodded listlessly. “I kind of want to go to help him, but…”

“You don’t need to worry,” Greystripe said firmly, tapping him with his tail. “He’s got his brothers and sister to talk to. They can help him. If he needs it.”

Ravenwing didn’t say anything, but his expression brightened a little.

The apprentices left with Yellowfang and Cinderpaw once the evening drew into night, and thank the stars that the mostly-full moon peeked out from a single open spot in the clouds. The mentors waved them off, Frostfur kneading the ground anxiously. Willowpelt murmured something to her and she settled just a little.

With meals very swiftly taken care of, the Clan lounged around, some dozing, some chatting. Fireheart had the urge to go outside and check the perimeters of the Barn’s grounds, staring out of the doorway into the walls of tall plants.

“Nervous?” Barley asked, coming up to stand with him.

Fireheart nodded sheepishly. “It’s weird, being in a new place. I want to make sure it’s safe, but you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, but… well, you heard about the dogs.”

The loner nodded gravely. “I saw them carry Oatwhisker out.” A shiver went through his back. “What was left of him, anyway.”

Fireheart couldn’t imagine the carnage, so he chose to avoid it by asking, “Do you think I should look around, just in case?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Barley rolled a shoulder. “I’ll show you the place. I haven’t smelled any dogs, but I know where the best hiding spots are if they do crash the party, so to speak.”

Fireheart nodded gratefully. Quickly going back inside, he reported to Bluestar, who waved him off with a tail-flick and said nothing as he hesitantly waited, then turned and went back to Barley. The pair stepped out of the Barn entirely and started in the direction of the big house a small distance from the Barn.

“I hope your humans don’t mind us being here,” Fireheart said after a bit of silence. “Or approach the queens.”

Barley twitched his whiskers. “Oh, they don’t bother with cats. They don’t even try to pet me anymore. They just occasionally leave out food for me to eat. I’m sure having all of ThunderClan here is a shock, but I trust them to not bother your Clan. I’d be more worried about the dogs.”

“Yeah…” Fireheart chewed his tongue lightly. “WindClan doesn’t seem interested in trying to talk to them like they do other animals.”

“No one talks with dogs,” Barley said. “Not a buzzard, not a cat, not a fox. You can’t trust a single one.”

Fireheart looked up at the older tom, surprised. “Surely some of them are nice.”

“If they are, I haven’t met ‘em,” Barley replied, his ears back. “A dog exists to serve humans by killing other animals that haven’t done anyone any harm. They chase you and they bite you and they shake you until your neck breaks, and that’s what makes ‘em happy. I haven’t heard of a single dog that knew Fang, and I’d pay with my whole mouse supply to see one that can get along with any badger or stoat.”

Fireheart looked forward again, blinking as they turned for the tall plants. “Wow. That’s… not good. Isn’t there any way to communicate with them?”

Barley led him around a corner of the plant-wall that ran alongside a wooden fence. “Well, some have learned to speak their tongue, no Fang involved. That at least will distract a dog long enough to make an escape, if it won’t get them to stop chasing you.”

“Really?” Fireheart perked his ears. “Do you know any of it?”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Barley said, puffing out his chest a little. “I’m not fluent, but I know the three key phrases that’ve gotten some friends of mine out of a scrape or two.” He beamed at Fireheart. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but I could share what I know with you, if you like.”

Fireheart nodded. “It can’t hurt to have that in my arsenal.”

“Alright.” Barley stepped over a fallen, thick stem of one of the plants. “Bloody corn ought to die by now… anyway. The first is—” He bared his teeth, perfectly dog-like, and made a deep growl in his throat, his face reverting back to round and friendly in an instant when he turned to Fireheart. “That’s ‘go away’. The other two I know are ‘stop’—” He growled again, higher this time and cutting off just as he raised his voice. “And ‘no’.” He made a remarkable impression of a short, angry bark. “That one’ll get you a lot of places, so I hear.”

Fireheart scrunched up his face as he tried to mimic them. His voice was softer than Barley’s, even trying to raise it to imitate him, managing to get “no” out alright but struggling with the other two. He chuffed in embarrassment, saying, “I think I’m a little too quiet and high-pitched to get the other ones.”

“NO!”

The toms jumped in unison and whipped around at the shrieking bark, staring dumbfounded at Cloudkit, who was walking right behind them.

He trilled. “I did it! I did it right! Right?”

Barley relaxed and purred. “You sure did, little lad.”

“Cloudkit,” Fireheart said, chiding and amazed at the same time, “how long have you been following us?”

“Since that.” Cloudkit nodded to the first row of corn. “You left big pawprints so I found you super easy. An’, an’ I was quiet so you didn’t hear me. Did you hear me?” He looked to Fireheart brightly, feet pressed together like he was awaiting praise.

Fireheart wanted to scold him. He just sighed and tilted his head fondly. “You snuck up on us very well, little guy, but you shouldn’t be out here. Brindleface is very worried about you, I’m certain. Did you tell her you were following us?”

“Oh…” Cloudkit deflated. “No. I just wanted to come. Am I in trouble?”

“Not with me, at least,” Fireheart said, and nosed him back in the direction of the Barn. “Come on, let’s get you back there. Sorry, Barley, I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Take your time,” Barley said cheerfully. “See you later, kiddo.”

Cloudkit waved his kit-short tail at him before trotting along with Fireheart, occasionally peeking up at his uncle as if to make sure he wasn’t angry.

“Make sure you say ‘sorry’ to your mother,” Fireheart said after a pause. “It’s important to say that when you did something wrong.”

Cloudkit’s face turned worried and a bit sullen. He looked down at the ground now, mumbling, “Just wanted to follow you…”

“I know, and I’m not upset with you,” Fireheart said gently. “But that wasn’t the right thing to do. The next time you want to go out, tell someone, okay?”

Cloudkit nodded silently.

Fireheart tapped him with his tail. “Tell you what—ask me when you want to go outside again, and I’ll come with you. You’re too small to be wandering around alone, but if you have someone watching you, then you could go a lot of places. Does that sound good?”

This perked his nephew up a little. His ginger face turned back up, eyes hopeful. “Can I go around with you and Barley to see everything?”

“Well, that’ll depend on what Brindleface says,” Fireheart purred. “But I’d sure like to take you next time. We’ll have to see if your mother lets us go that far.”

Cloudkit nodded again, much cheerier this time.

Fireheart was right—when they returned to full view of the Barn, Brindleface was scurrying around outside, her eyes popping out of her head with panic as she shouted, “Cloudkit! Cloudkit, come here right now!”

“I’ve got him!” Fireheart called, and walked a little quicker, Cloudkit trailing behind reluctantly. “He followed me and Barley. He’s okay.”

The tortoiseshell whipped around and ran over to them, making Cloudkit flinch. “Baby, you scared me! Don’t run away without telling me! A dog could have gotten you!”

Cloudkit’s eyes returned to the ground and he scuffed the mud. At Fireheart’s gentle nudge, he looked up just enough to say, “Sorry…” loud enough for his mother to hear before hanging his head again.

Fireheart tilted his head apologetically to Brindleface. “I didn’t know he was with me until he said something. I brought him back as soon as he did.”

“Thank you, Fireheart.” Brindleface shakily exhaled the last of her panic and looked Cloudkit over. “Oh, and look at you, your paws and belly are muddy. Come inside, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Cloudkit said nothing, just shuffled along after her towards the Barn. Fireheart couldn’t help a pang of sympathy at the unhappiness hanging over his nephew.

“Hey, Cloudkit!” he called. “Tell your brother and sister what you learned tonight!”

The kitten looked back at him, and he gave him an encouraging nod. With that, the puffy ginger tail lifted again and he followed his mother at a trot, though it was still a bit of a youthful waddle.

Fireheart watched him go until he disappeared into the Barn’s shadows, then turned around and loped the way he’d come to rejoin Barley.

He had to admit, though he never would to Brindleface, that Cloudkit tracking them and not making a single sound was pretty impressive. He’d have to take that into consideration for when he became an apprentice.

*”Chrii”: a young cat, literally “little changing cat”. English equivalent would be a friendly “kid”. Pluralized here as “chriil”.

[eyesforahead]

Yandere Oc's X Male Reader

ALL FAKE!!!

Waking up sucked. You preferred sleeping because then you wouldn't need to your shady ass and very much illegal job.

You lived in the city a very busy city. Tokyo.

However, you had a great view from the apartment you lived in.

The tall buildings reach for the sky, creating a mesmerizing skyline. The streets below are bustling with life, as people go about their day, creating a vibrant tapestry of movement. It's a view that never fails to captivate you.

Currently it was 4:30 a.m and you needed to get to the lab at 6 a.m. it's time to get ready.

You work as a scientist. In a lab where your fellow work mate's experiment on non human entities that have appeared less then a year ago. This very much was illegal but at the end of the day not many cared about these " entities ".

These entities took on Various forms..animals...half animals... objects...

They all however had human like intelligence.

Half-human entities were very much able of feeling emotion's such as pain , sadness , depression etc... this was found out through your colleague's experiment's.

The entities were kidnaped ( this is the part that's illegal because no one cares about the entities ) then experimented on.

Your role in the lab was clean up service. You clean up the bodies of the entities that may have died or of your colleagues that were killed.

As you're showering you think about the message you got from one of your superior that liked to gossip.

He said that the lab has gotten some new entities..

You wondered if any of them will survive the beginning experiment's. Those were the most died in.

The scientist would be more harsh to make them submit, put them in life or death situation to see their full abilities and much more you were unauthorized to know.

The new entities where:

A half snake ( which is also referred as a naga. ) they are identifiable by their scale's and half of their body is snake like.

A shape shifter they are identified by how their entire body seems wrong like their body isn't correct.

A sentient jelly like substance in a shape of a human. You've got no idea what the fuck that is.

A half octopus. ( having tentacles instead of leg's )

A vampire ( Fang's and pale skin. Commonly seen with red eyes )

A half dog ( having dog ears and snout )

A half cat ( cat ears , whisker's and tail )

Stepping out of the shower you put on your typical unfirom for work.

A light blue shirt and black pants a long with it are black boots and white long coat lab.

You go towards the kitchen have breakfast before heading out to the bus stop.

The bus leave's you off about thirty minutes away.

The walk is complicated and when you were new you often got lost. There was a bunch of turns and shit.

Finally you sigh as you see the lab.

You enter and is immediately greeted by the A.I assistant voice.

" Good morning ( Name ) ( Last Name ) you are just on time. Please, head to the main area. Thank you & good day! "

You sigh and head to the location knowing it's gonna be a long day today.

Eventually you make it to the main area in which there greets you your superior Dr. Nie. Dr.Nie was a handsome young man with a brown bob cut and light green eyes having two moles underneath each eye. His uniform was exactly like yours accept his shirt was darker blue. He held a clipboard with his black pen touching his lip.

"Ah, morning. Listen here we've got some new entities today and some of them lived. Not without making a mess. Go to examination room 107 and clean up. I recommend wearing a mask the smell is simply malodorous."

Grimacing you accept and go to the supply room.

You couldn't help but take a big gulp of air before putting on the mask and going in room 107.

Blood was pretty much everywhere and green scale's were scattered across the room.

You're pretty sure there was also a piece of a scientist uniform.

In the middle of the room in a pool of blood was broken glasses.

Ah you think a scientist was eaten.

From the scale's you're guessing this was the snake's testing room.

You pull your gloves tighter before throwing the soapy water that was in the black bucket across the room and start cleaning.

The glasses were thrown out.

A dead person does not need glasses.

You wanted to complain how you were underpaid however you were too scared to do that.

Couldn't get fired they'd simply kill you so you don't tell anyone about the lab.

Even if they didn't, where would you work?

You failed college.

Sighing you silently apologize to your mother who always told you to study and everytime you brushed it off.

After finishing you speed walk to the staff bathroom and wash your hands carefully and throwing the now dirty glove's in the bin.

You hear the bathroom stall open and close.

"Oh, Dr. (name) ! How are you? You weren't present yesterday." A monotone voice was heard before the sound of the sink started.

"Mm. I was sick."

"That's a shame, you've missed an entertaining show."

"Let me guess, someone's tried to quit?"

You got a hum in response.

"Let me fill you in."

Dr. Gold then proceeded to tell you in detail that you really didn't want how the execution went.

It was stupid really. Wasn't it obvious you'd be silenced?

The stupid man was thrown in with 333.

333 was a half crocodile and half horse. Having the mouth and teeth of a crocodile also the speed while the body of a horse. A truly horrifying thing.

You say goodbye and again speed walk to continue the rest of the day.

All went great till you were called to the second main office...

Find this interesting? Read more on Quotev!

You can find this on my Quotev profile TangledMystery.

Here is the link as well! https://www.quotev.com/TangledMystery

[bts-0t-7]

So What? | MYG | Chapter 4

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader 

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

WC: 2.9K

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar @codeinebelle @bontensbabygirl

< Prev. Series Masterlist. Next > 

The doctors were able to do all the checks that they needed to do once Yoongi shifted. His fluffy, soft ears and curled-up tail kept twitching as he slept. You sighed, looking down at the stack of reports on your lap. The doctors have given you the whole stack, saying that you should spend some time reading them through and deciding the next course of action - for both you and Yoongi. Lunch break is only an hour and you for sure knew that there was no way possible to be able to finish this whole thing - you lifted the edge of a piece of paper - in that time frame. 

You rubbed your temples. Why did you have to bring it along with you to work? 

You unlocked your phone to see a picture that you took when everything was still hidden. “Hello, hello!” A hand shot into your view, waving to catch your attention. 

“Hi, Lils.” You offered her the best smile you could. 

“Damn, you look down indeed.” She paused. “What happened?”

Lillianne - or Lils, for short - has been working here for almost as long as you have. The both of you didn’t always work every shift together, but you sure knew that a Thursday shift was one that the both of you would work. The both of you were part-time workers, juggling a few jobs at the same time. Lillianne was a year older than you were, but she preferred to study and travel, claiming that she would rather see the world first before settling down for a full-time job. 

Sometimes, you were envious of her. The world was vast and broad but you needed the money, so you had to compromise. The dreams were placed aside in an old box, save for when you wanted some sort of motivation to keep life going. 

You hummed. “Nothing much, I guess. Just some hospitalisation documents.”

“Shit - what happened?”

You sighed. “Ever had a hybrid before?”

Lils’ family was well-off, not rich-rich, but very much capable of spending a ton, saving a ton, and then having some more to add in. 

Lils shook her head. “I mean, my family thought of it. My brother always wanted one but I felt that it was cruel. It’s like keeping a human being like a pet.” She scrunched her nose. “Like slaves.” 

You nodded. 

“You got one now?”

You shrugged. “‘Sorta. I never knew that he was a hybrid.” Lils stayed quiet, waiting allowing you to speak at your own pace. “I found him when he was a cat and then he stayed as a cat. I mean - at the same time, it never ever crossed my mind that he is a hybrid. I somehow just never thought of it.” 

Lils bobbed her head. “I get where you’re coming from.” She stood up straighter at the counter. “Some hybrids at the shelter refuse to shift, instinctively protecting themselves from their past trauma. It’s going to take a while for that guy to open up and trust you. Only then might, I say might - shift.”

“That’s the thing, Lils. He has already shifted and now he’s staying at the hospital.” You waved the stack of papers in front of your friend. “This is his. And I have dug a hole deeper than I can get out of.”

Lils’ eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“This guy - Yoongi, Min Yoongi - is an underground illegally bred hybrid.” She shot up, eyes wide. “That’s not all. It seems that he is all over the wants of the black market. You know like how people want their pets back and they are willing to give a reward? Yeah, the same thing.”

The silence in the shop was pregnant. “Shit.”

The both of you looked at each other. “So what are you going to do?”

You shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I know that I don’t have the money and time to take care of myself, or worse yet another human being. The cats downstairs the blocks don’t count.” You sighed. “But at the same time, I don’t want to leave him. He has already been through so much and the doctors feel that it will be good for him to stay with me, seeing that the connection is already pretty deep.”

“Wait - hang on. Pretty deep?”

“The doctors are assuming that I managed to make him shift.”

“And did you?”

“I guess so? He was fighting it but I tried to persuade him and he… Did it?”

Lils had her hand over her mouth. “Damn. I think he trusts you.” She nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, yes. He either likes you or trusts you. Both take trust anyway. Good idea from the doctors. It is important for hybrids to be around who they trust in order to recover faster.”

You rubbed your face and sighed for the umpteenth time today. “I should ask our dearest boss for leave.”

“He’ll definitely let you go on a break but definitely won’t let you leave the company.” Lils laughed and you rolled your eyes, digging into your cold lunch. “You’re far too valuable.”

And who was your boss? 

Kim Seok-Jin. 

Of course, he would let you on a break.

Yoongi woke up to the constant beeping of machines and the airconditioner blasting full force at his face - in an empty room. That was the saddening part. He had hoped that you would stay after you managed to coax him to shift. But of course, he understood why you wouldn’t want to stay either. I mean, look at him. Covered in scars and bites, scrawny and sad - a monster, he sees himself in the mirror. 

He sighed, willing the tears to go away. He didn’t know why this felt like losing you and it hurt him to the extent that he has yet to comprehend the feeling - didn’t know if he should dissect it in the first place. 

His head shot up at the sound of curtains being drawn. “Oh! You’re finally awake.” A nurse wearing purple scrubs walked into the room and his instincts woke up. Yoongi hissed and attempted to jump out of bed when he realised that - he was cuffed, again. 

The nurse shot him a sympathetic look. “The doctors thought that it would be best so that you don’t injure yourself and others.” She moved around, checking rectangular boxes and liquids around him. “I’m Ling Hui and I’m the substitute nurse for Pong-Ran right now. She’ll be back soon.” The nurse stood up. “I’ll page Dr. Park to check on you.”

That light-smelling nurse left and the room felt even more empty than it was before. 

Yoongi sighed. He missed you. And he cursed himself for acting up. Only if his body didn’t instinctively act up from being stuck in that form for a long time, he wouldn’t have lost you. Tears welled up in his eyes again as he furiously rubbed them away. 

No, no. He wouldn’t cry right now. 

Yoongi’s head stayed down this time when he heard the sound of curtains drawing. 

“Hello! It’s good to see that you’re awake. I’m Dr. Park and I’ll just briefly go through what your body is going through now.”

Yoongi peeked up to see the doctor shuffling through his papers with a light smile on his lips. He has this angelic look that makes Yoongi rethink whether or not he has actually died and gone up and that he was currently looking at one of God’s angels - or something. 

“Hehe, why hello there. Finally, looking up?” Yoongi’s eyes snapped to the doctor’s. “Yeah, my wife does tell me that I have a too-pretty face. Always saying that I should just be a model and come earn more money for the household.” The doctor rolled his eyes playfully, a smile broadening at the mention of his wife. He seems to really love her. 

“Anyway, your owner, Miss Y/N, has already chosen the following procedures and medication for you. So we will move on with it.” Yoongi tensed up. “Oh, oh, it’s nothing invasive, I promise. She just wants to make you thoroughly checked and for you to have the appropriate diet plan and medication for when we send you back.”

Yoongi has no idea what is happening and what is going to happen. So he kept quiet and let the doctor do the explanations of what test was going to be done, how it was going to be done, and approximately how long it might take. 

Then, Yoongi got wheeled around to do the respective tests, cooperating with the doctors and nurses. He tries his best to talk about what he eats - his likes and dislikes - and where his body feels uncomfortable but finds it hard to express himself. 

It was only after everything was completed, dinner was eaten, and they left him to rest that Yoongi allowed his tears to fall, staining the pillow below him wet as he muffled his cries. 

You trudged home after your shift, legs almost giving up as you climbed into the shower room. You had taken up a call from the hospital in the middle of your shift, heart pounding, worried that Yoongi didn’t want to do the examinations or that something was wrong with him - 

“He is all good.” Your axis stopped. “With a proper dieting plan and a bit of medication for the time being, he should be up and going by the third month or so.”

Dr Park had been so kind as to also email you the test results so that you are kept up-to-date and he patiently answered all your questions - even the ones you felt were stupid. 

“No problem, Miss Y/N. It’s common to feel stressed and unknowing of what to do. That’s why we are here to make this adapting process easier. If there are any questions, feel free to just shoot me a text.”

The call had ended at that. 

And for the rest of the night, you had a stupid smile on your face, knowing that your kitty was alright and that it wouldn’t be long before he made it home. 

“Well, that also means that you will need to get new beds, make the guest room presentable and buy things too.”

Your shoulders had dropped at that fact. Well, your wallet was definitely going to feel infinitely lighter. You groaned. “Ugh, let me bask in the fact that he is fine first. Money is another problem for another day.”

Lils snorted. “Totally,” She flagged down her bus. “Text me when you get home and when you decide to go shopping.”

You sighed and slumped against the wall of the shower room. 

You really needed to get the guest room organised. Well, not that it isn’t already neat, just that it isn’t presentable. Like, you stuffed some clothes in the closet, the sheets have not been changed, the floors were cleaned every month, you know the drill. You stood up, washing the rest of the suds of your body and headed out of the shower room. 

Money and organisation will be left for another day- probably tomorrow, probably a day before he comes back - you don’t care. Right now, you really don’t care. Sleep is all you need. 

Of course, your alarm doesn’t not ring at 8.30 am. You turned it off with a flick of your finger and went back to sleep - if it was not for the shrill ring that echoed through your house. You attempted to ignore it at first, but the thoughts got the best of you. 

What if it’s your parents? What if it’s Lils? Wait, it doesn’t matter if it’s Lils. She just wants to shop. What if it’s the doctor - 

You shot out of bed. Shit, if it is Dr Park - 

You flipped your phone over to read the caller ID.

Bear🧸.

Well, fine. You swiped the answer button and placed the phone on your lap. 

“YO! GET OUT OF BED! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG TO ANSWER?”

You knew it. She’d be screaming. 

“I just got up, bitch. Stop yelling. It’s 9 in the morning. Too early for you.” You grumbled, hands coming up to scrub the sleepiness off your face. It seems like that night shift yesterday took a bit more out of you than you thought. 

“Come on. I’m driving and we’re going shopping. We got to get your kitty’s stuff.”

You yawned. “Where are you then?”

“Fifteen minutes to your house.” 

You shot out of bed. “What -”

“Don’t come blaming me! I tried to call you three times. Three times on full ring! It’s your fault!”

“You could’ve left the house only when I answered!”

“Then you wouldn’t have gone!”

“Hey, now that’s not completely true -”

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“On what?”

“Books. But technically I’m already out so it’s kinda useless.”

“You chickening.” You stated and heard a gasp from the other end of the line. 

“Am not.”

You rolled your eyes. “Bye, I’m going to get ready. Let yourself in when you reach. See ya.”

You hung up, tossing your phone onto the bed and headed to the washroom. Following your routine, you managed to put on some decent clothes just as you heard keys jingling from the living room. 

Your bedroom door opened and you heard a “Hiyah, bought you coffee on the way.” Before it closed shut again. 

You stepped out of the wardrobe and cleaned the countertop of your washroom, set your bed and fluffed your pillows, before turning off the air conditioner and walking to the guest bedroom where you knew your dearest friend would be waiting. 

“It’s really bare.”

“Where’s the coffee?”

“In the car.”

Lils surveyed the room. “It’ll do well with a fresh coat of paint. Maybe a contrasting colour. White and grey and then black photo frames. The shelves and drawers are already white, you can add in a tint of gold paint on the handles.” She nodded, proud of herself. “Guess the bedding can add a bit of green to make the colours pop.”

You had trouble catching up. “Grey for what? Which pane of the wall?”

“The wardrobe and the photo frame wall. The toilet can be green and gold.”

“Gold?!”

“Paint.” She clarified. “Gold paint.”

Oh, you knew that - 

“Okay,” Lils suddenly clapped her hands. “Let’s go! Buy everything then set the dates for the respective delivery. Oh yes, we need to change that -” She pointed to the old bedside table. “For something else.”

You were pretty sure it had dead lizards or something in there. You didn’t want to dissect it. 

The both of you left with ideas buzzing in your brains. 

The paint store was obviously the first, followed by the furniture store, the household store, and groceries - cause’ why not? - and then lastly, back to the coffee. 

Heading home, Lils informed you that she has already told her parents that she’ll be sleeping over at your house for the next few days, to help with the ‘reconstruction of the bedroom’. 

Her words. 

The removal of everything in that room was first. Including the bed frame, the bed, and now very narrow halfway thanks to the shelves being placed there. 

The painting job took a total of sixteen hours to complete painting everything and another good one and a half days for the paint to cure. Then came the cleaning of the room. That itself took a good half of the day. 

You thought that was all? To take a break? Oh no. 

The deliverables came. The both of you were on a labour streak. From building to shifting and arranging the pieces of furniture. Gods, by the time everything was done, you had your house to clean. And once that was done too, it took a total of one week. 

“The smell hasn’t left yet.” You said as you placed the last of the decorations in the room. “I’m afraid that his nose will be sensitive to it.”

You sat beside the cat plushie that you couldn’t resist buying.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It will leave in the next few days anyways.” 

The both of you looked around the room to finally take in the view of your handiworks. Things changed a bit as the both of you progressed. The colour scheme remains the same but you’ve decided to paint the wardrobe black instead, the washroom green and white instead, and the fluffy rugs on the floors were a last-minute addition. The throw was an impulse buy but so was the cat plush. Not that you regretted it. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe we painted the whole place. You barely come into the room your walls were turning yellow from the damn musk!”

You laughed sheepishly. 

“Alright.” Lils got up. “They’ll be coming in a while. I’m gonna go home and take a damn good sleep while you have fun.”

You nodded. “Sure. Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. Just hit me up anytime you go shopping again. Hopefully not for a whole makeover next time.”

The both of you laughed as you walked her to her car. “Alright, I’ll see you at work then.”

You waved as she drove away just as you saw the police car pulling up. 

Well, call for better timing.

[wafel1160]

finally doing it- finally posting my cat day smut.

Have fun ☺️🫶 ( also Dogday has a 🐱)

“You look beautiful.”

“oh?”

Catnap froze.

“sorry was that-? “

Catnap was starting to regret this.

Dogday laughs. “it’s okay don’t panic kitty!”

Catnaps ears perked up.

His tail started to fidget.

“well that slipped out.”

He looked at catnaps excited expression.

Don’t get too cocky- I’m only doing this cuz I’m bored.

He looked back at catnap only to see him smirking.

Dogday crossed his arm and looked the other way.

“I like it when you call me that

Catnap put Dogday’s hand on his face. “

When you call me your kitty.

Dogday blushed madly.

“ just start it already. “

Catnap snickered.

He put his hand around Dogday waist, causing Dogday to shift uncomfortably.

“ should I take it slow?” Catnap asked.

“n-no “ Dogday said flushed.

“ liar. “

Catnap rubbed his finger on dogdays entrance.

Dogday instantly whined.

Catnap smirked.

" can you not-! “

“no way, I’m trying to make the most with what I have. “

Catnap leaned Dogday to the wall and towered over him.

Catnap held dogdays wrist with one hand and put them above dogdays head.

He then held dogdays chin and kissed him.

Dogday flinched at catnaps sharp tongue. It felt like sandpaper against his mouth.

Catnap looked at Dogdays chest, going up and down as he pants.

" hm I don’t think I’m regretting this anymore. “

Dogday looked at catnaps erection out of curiosity. His tail started wagging and he looked the other way embarrassed.

“do you want a closer look? “

He grabs Dogdays head, and brings it to his cock

Dogday reluctantly kisses the tip.

Catnap shifted their positions- so that Dogday was on top of him.

Dogday stuck his tongue out, and slowly places the tip in his mouth.

Dogday closed his lips around it, and began bobbing his head up and down.

Catnap groans at the new pleasure.

He continued like that for a few minutes, sometimes going to kiss the sides.

“fu-“

Dogday immediately released catnaps cock.

“I think thats enough kitty. “ Dogday smirked.

“no- no I was getting there!”

Dogday laughed.

“ ‘I want to make the most of what I have’ “he stuck his tongue out.

Catnap groaned in annoyance.

Dogday climbed catnap and angled catnaps cock.

“hopefully nothing goes wrong”

He closed his eyes and leaned in.

Catnap moaned and Dogday tensed.

Dogday leaned in to catnap.

Their lips connected like a puzzle.

" c-can we switch? “

He was out of breath.

Catnap grinned.

They shifted positions again so that catnap was on top

Catnap started to pound into Dogday.

“hmmph.”

Dogday looked away in embarrassment.

" g-good kitty. “ Dogday gripped the blanket underneath them.

Catnap continued thrusting but he grabbed Dogdays face.

" look at me when you say it. “ Catnap growled.

He let go.

" good kitty.” Dogday said in between heavy breaths.

Catnap thrusted even faster, about to reach his climax.

" I think I’m about to-“

Dogday grabbed catnaps face and kissed him.

Catnap thrusted one more time before climaxing.

They separated the kiss.

" damniiiit. I hope nothing bad happens after this. “ Dogday whined.

Catnap leaned into Dogdays chest and purred.

“yeah yeah look all happy.” Dogday huffed.

Catnap smirked.

Dogday put his hand on catnap face, comforting him.

Catnaps weight dropped onto Dogday.

" catnap- too heavy! “

Catnap didn’t say anything, he looked asleep.

* * *

Catnap woke up, his pillow softer than usual, but a bit harder.

He opened his eyes to see Dogday. Catnap felt the dogs chest vibrate every few breaths.

He smiled to himself as he nuzzled Dogday’s neck.

Catnap felt himself purr.

“Well good morning to you too” Dogday said.

“Don’t you have things to do?” Dogday teasingly played with Catnaps ears.

Catnap responded by digging his face completely into Dogday’s collar.

“Catnap, I can’t stay here-“ Dogday struggled to move from the Cats strong hold.

(I don’t know how to end this)

[nichenarratives]

A Doggone Shame: Part 1

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspiration art by Tracy J Butler

It's a rarity Mordecai finds himself home before sunrise, so it is with great delight he's enjoying some time to himself that fine autumn evening in 1926. He'd made dinner - a warming and nostalgic Matzo ball soup, with enough for tomorrow - had a shower, made a hot cup of tea and had just settled into his favourite armchair to continue reading Soldier's Pay by William Faulkner when there's a hurried, desperate knock on his apartment door.

The monochrome tom glances up, stilled in place with book in hand and cup halfway to his lips. He's not expecting to be bothered. The Lackadaisy would still be in full swing, which would keep most everyone Mordecai knows occupied until gone three tomorrow morning. It's possible Atlas has sent someone to fetch him at the last minute, but Viktor would not knock so gently, nor not announce himself.

Another knock, this one faster, more urgent. Mordecai sets his teacup down on its saucer and closes the book without saving the page, placing it on the chair. Slippered steps are silent as he crosses the room, habitually drawing a pistol from within his dressing gown on the way. He's tense as he presses his body to the wall beside the door - not the wood, as it's too flimsy - and cranes his neck to peer through the peephole, expecting at least an enemy.

Familiar large, yellow eyes framed by a deep brown bob cut stare back. The black feline sighs, though he's unsure if it is out of relief or vexation, and slips his pistol away. Taking a breath, he composes himself once more before answering the door. "Miss Pepp-Urgh!"

There had been more to his greeting, some formalities and an honest query for her visit, but Mordecai can't help but recoil when he sees what Ivy holds; a mangy animal, beady black eyes and nose standing in sharp contrast to scruffy, white fur. The creature is small enough to fit in an austere lady's handbag, sharp, unkempt claws loosely grasping Ivy's sleeve as its ratty tail swings uselessly between its legs. 

A dog, he realises with disdain, scrunching his nose at the scent of slobber and damp fur. He takes a step back into his apartment and half-closes the door between them, as if the partial physical barrier might make it less revolting. Sadly, it does little. "Miss Pepper," he tries again, forgoing formality for precision. "Why is that… thing, outside my apartment?"

The girl puffs out her cheeks. "He's not a thing, he's a dog!"

Mordecai scowls at the creature, which seems to find joy in his discomfort; the thing wags its tail more intensely and in a fit of excitement, begins to squeak and struggle in Ivy's arms until unable to get free, begins frantically licking her chin. Ivy giggles and tries to block the slobbering tongue lashes with a hand, with very limited success. "Isn't he cute? I found him running about on campus, no collar or anything. He might be a stray!"

The very prospect of being slathered with dog germs makes Mordecai feel nauseous. He has no idea why anyone would willingly cohabit with such a beast, let alone allow it to share its microbiome so recklessly. Ivy has also pointedly avoided his questions. "If it's a stray," he asks carefully, choosing his words to evoke an accurate response. "Why bring it here? Why not transport the infernal thing straight to the pound-"

Ivy gasps and foregoes protecting her face from more licks to pointlessly cover the animal's ears with her free arm and hand. "Mordecai," she admonishes through grit teeth, yellow eyes wide and judgemental. "You can't be serious? They put strays down in the pound." She uncovers the dog's ears and snuggles him close, trapping its head under her chin. "I'm going to keep him! I just have to convince someone he'll be a great addition to the cafe!"

"Wonderful," the tuxedo tom cat answers flatly, ears laying flat and eyes narrowed with resignation. He doesn't want to run into this animal again, certainly not at his place of work. Unfortunately, given their unique brand of relationship, explaining as such would only encourage Miss May to keep the thing. He'll just have to pretend not to care. Starting now. "If that's all you wished to discuss, my tea is going cold. Good evening."

"Actually," the student interjects, even pressing a boot into the space between the door and frame before it can close, bringing the dog even closer while doing so. It's difficult for Mordecai not to hiss in discomfort at the renewed proximity. "I was hoping to ask a favour."

Green eyes fixed on the mongrel within inches of his pristine home, the statement snaps his gaze to wide, hopeful yellows. Ivy looks almost as pitiful as the animal she carries, gazing up at the man her Godfather would take everywhere like his personal shadow, batting her eyelashes and offering the soft smile that always works on Viktor.

He doesn't need to hear her question. "No."

"Come on, please?" The university student begs. Apparently still oblivious to his aversion, she holds it at arm's length towards Mordecai, forcing them within an inch of each other. Its tongue lolls absently, eyes devoid of intelligent thought, and its breath is faintly tainted with an unidentifiable stench. Mordecai grimaces. "It's just one night, and Atlas is so small! He won't get in the way or anything!"

Gingerly pushing her arms - and by extension, the dog - back into the hall, Mordecai snorts humourlessly. "Naming it after my employer does not garner additional sympathy for its wretched existence," the sharpshooter responds flatly. He feels like he needs another shower just being in the same building as the creature. "What on Earth led you to believe I would willingly shelter this creature at all?"

Her mouth twisting and brows knitting together, Ivy looks away. "Actually, I… you're kinda my last choice," she admits, holding Atlas tightly as he begins to whine and squirm anew. A few gentle pets calm him down, but her eyes water when their gazes lock once more."We're not allowed to keep pets in the dorms, so I asked Viktor and Freckle and even Miss May already if he could stay, but they were all yoo busy to talk tonight. I just need time to convince someone to keep him for a night or two while I convince Atlas to keep him. Please?"

Factoring in his own sacrifices and discomforts, Mordecai can see two possible outcomes to this request. First, he can refuse to assist and force her to take the dog to the pound. While this option would make his evening more pleasant, it could also incur negative affiliations with his character, of which he already has plenty. While unbothered by their perceptions, Atlas would likely find fault, something Mordecai does care to incur.

Alternatively, he could agree to house the glorified rat for a night or two, bolster his social standing with the few people he cares for the opinions of - namely, Atlas and Viktor, who are both fond of Miss Pepper - and garner appreciation from Ivy. Factoring in time to feed and clean up after the dog, it's a substantial and exhaustive alternative, but the potential benefits could outweigh the short-term detriments.

Despite the logical analysis, Mordecai feels like he's making a mistake when he sighs and opens his door wider again. "It can stay in the bathroom tonight," he concedes, but raises a stilling palm when Ivy begins to vibrate with excitement on the threshold. "A single night, Miss Pepper. I don't have the time nor patience to coddle the mongrel beyond that."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The young feline speaks as she steps inside, bouncing on her heels as she heads for the bathroom backwards, so she can continue talking to her newest benefactor as she goes. "I'll bring him some food in the morning and go straight to Miss May to talk about Atlas after! I promise, you won't even know he's here! We just have to set him up with some old blankets for a bed."

Dark ears fold back, already regretting his decision. He'd not considered the messier components of a dog staying in his apartment, having assumed it would sleep on the tiles. "I do not own any old blankets; they are of the finest-"

"That's okay, he won't mind!" Ivy deposits the small bundle of problems onto the tiled bathroom floor and pivots straight to the airing cupboard, opening it up and extracting a slew of pristine, carefully folded sheets. To the tuxedo's horror - and before he can object - said sheets are dumped onto the likely bacteria-ridden tiled floor next to the toilet. "There! It's perfect! Now, some newspapers."

Mordecai has yet to recover from his dirtied sheets, hackles raised and tail fluffed when he dares to ask as Ivy retreats into the living area: "Newspapers?"

"Of course!" She yells from the next room, a sifting of paper as she rifles through his magazine rack. Mordecai stares at the little dog sniffing around his bathroom and the bundle of sheets with great interest. Its nose creates an obnoxious, displeasing snort with every breath, like a wheezing vacuum cleaner in dire need of a filter change. "In case he needs to go potty!"

Ivy reappears with an arm full of old broadsheets just as this new information clicks into place. The tom turns on her with a sharpness that could dislocate a lesser man's neck, his disgust evident on his usually carefully modulated muzzle. "Potty-? No, he is not… relieving himself in my bathroom. He will have to refrain until morning."

The black feline glances back to see Atlas is making himself at home in his borrowed sheets, climbing all over them while his nose works overtime. Mordecai shudders, deciding that once this ordeal is over with, he'll burn them, just to be sure whatever contaminants the beast left behind are dealt with. Ivy seems less concerned as she kneels down and sets out a number of sheets of paper. "He's a dog, not a person. He can't just hold it until you take him out."

Sitting back on her haunches, the university student studies her handiwork with a look of satisfaction. "There!" She says, leaning over to scratch behind a flopping ear. Atlas tilts his head slightly into the attention and begins jerkily twitching a back leg, his tongue lolling stupidly from his drooling maw. Ivy giggles. "You're all set, little guy! Now, be good for Uncle Mordecai, okay. Of course you will! Yes, you will!"

Mordecai watches the pair exchange idiocies with a sense of dread. He feels foolish, for being so shortsighted with his expectations. What had seemed to be a simple favour has already evolved into discomfort in his own home. The oddly overly-affectionate farewell Ivy offers the dog only intensifies those feelings, though he can't pinpoint a distinct emotion to associate it with as she kisses it's revolting head and stands back up.

"Thank you so much!" She reiterates as she turns back to the older feline lingering in the bathroom doorway. To both his surprise and relief, Ivy seems to step toward him for a hug, only to reconsider and falter at the last moment. An awkward second of silence passes before she clears her throat and edges around him, towards the front door. "I really mean it. Thank you! You saved that dog's life, Mr Heller. I'll make sure Atlas knows what a good man you are! See you tomorrow!"

She lets herself out, and Mordecai finds himself alone with a panting mongrel, the warm scents of saliva and dog seeping into the air as they stare each other down. The tuxedo tom cat wrinkles his nose, takes a step back into the living room and closes the bathroom door with care, eliminating the new problem from his peaceful evening. One night, he reassures himself as settled back into his chair, book in hand and a sip of lukewarm tea, trying to relax. How difficult can a dog be?

[clangenrising]

Month 6 - Greenleaf

“We’re running low on borage and sage,” grumbled Sagetooth, looking at the herb stores. “The best harvesting spots are on opposite sides of the territory, so we’ll have to get one today and the other tomorrow.” 

Oddstripe, sitting nearby, piped up brightly, “Oh, that’s alright! Why don’t we split up instead? I’ll get one and you can get the other.”

She shifted to find a more comfortable position that still allowed Barleykit, who had taken to sitting with her during her studying time, to cling meekly to her foreleg. Sagetooth narrowed her eyes with a frown - not at Barleykit’s presence, she’d largely taken to ignoring the kit, but at Oddstripe’s claim. Oddstripe had grown used to her teacher’s lack of trust when it came to competence. Every skill was checked and rechecked before she was allowed to perform it on her own, every piece of knowledge quizzed constantly to keep her sharp. 

“Are you sure you remember where the patches are?” Sagetooth asked.

“Oh, yes,” purred Oddstripe, eager for the chance to handle her new duties without supervision. “For the sage and borage at least!” 

Sagetooth didn’t seem convinced, sitting back on her haunches to look Oddstripe up and down. “And you remember what I taught you about preserving the plants for later?” 

“Mhm! I’ll make sure to leave plenty for next time. Seriously, Sagetooth, I’m ready! You can trust me.” She grinned with what she hoped was her most trustworthy smile. Barleykit squeezed her leg tightly. 

After a moment of humming dubiously, the noise in Sagetooth’s throat turned into the words, “Alright. Take Branchbark with you, he’s a good assistant gatherer.” 

“Yes!” Oddstripe cried, startling Barleykit who squeaked. She winced and curled her tail around the kit as she added, “Thank you, Sagetooth, you won’t regret this.” 

“Mm,” the older cat heaved herself to her feet. “I’ll get the borage, you collect the sage.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Oddstripe bobbed her head excitedly as Sagetooth passed, then turned to her daughter and said gently, “Okay, sweetie, time to let go. Mama has work to do.” She tried to smile, but her discomfort with parenting clearly shone through, she could tell. She just hoped Barleykit didn’t notice. 

The little kit looked up at her, still clinging to her leg, and mumbled into her fur, “I wanna go with you.” 

“I know,” sighed Oddstripe, “but I have to leave the camp and it's not safe for kittens out there. Besides, I bet the boys would get lonely without you.” 

“No they won’t,” Barleykit looked down. “They don’t like me.” 

“That’s not true!” Oddstripe cooed, heart breaking for her kit, “They love you!” 

“No they don’t, they think I’m boring,” pouted Barleykit. 

“Oh, they just like to play rowdy games,” said Oddstripe, giving Barleykit a few good licks around the ears. “But you know what? I bet Ospreymask knows some games you can all play. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Barleykit shrugged, unable to hold Oddstripe’s gaze. 

“Let’s go see, yeah?” she continued, standing and disentangling her foreleg from Barleykit’s grasp. Barleykit nodded shyly and Oddstripe purred in response. “Yeah, let’s go see.” She led Barleykit out into the sunshine, squinting her sensitive eyes against the light, and looked around to try and find Ospreymask, hoping dearly that she didn’t have to disappoint her daughter. Poking her head into the warriors’ den, she sighed in relief at the sight of her favorite kitsitter curled up next to Branchbark, their heads laid next to each other as they dozed. Oddstripe almost felt bad interrupting them but knew that she had to.

“Excuse me,” she said gently, causing Branchbark’s ear to twitch and his eyes to open, “I need to go herb gathering and I was hoping Ospreymask might be able to watch the kits for a little while.” Branchbark grunted sleepily and blew air in Ospreymask’s face to wake her. She flinched and shook her whiskers, glaring at him a bit. 

“What was that for?” she huffed but when he gestured to Oddstripe with his nose her gaze softened. “Oh! Hey, did you need me to watch the kits?” 

“Yeah,” Oddstripe winced in embarrassment. “If it’s not too much trouble.” 

Ospreymask rolled to her feet and smiled widely, “Not at all!” She noticed Barleykit, hiding under Oddstripe’s belly, and leaned down to speak to her directly. “Hey, sweet thing, how’re you doin?” 

Barleykit looked at her with big wide eyes and mumbled. “I’m okay.” 

“I’m glad to hear it!” Ospreymask purred, “Let’s go see what your brothers are doing, yeah?” 

Barleykit didn’t respond and Oddstripe felt the need to add, “She’s worried they’ll want to play rowdy games, I was thinking you might have something more her speed.” 

“Oh, for sure!” grinned Ospreymask, “I’ve got some great games. Have you ever played StarClan Says?” Barleykit shook her head mutely and Ospreymask said, “Oh, I bet you’ll be so good at it! Let’s go find the boys and I’ll teach you how to play.” Barleykit gave Oddstripe one more look, searching for some sort of encouragement. Oddstripe nodded and pushed her forward gently with her back paw. Carefully, Barleykit slipped over to follow closely beside Ospreymask as they headed out.

Oddstripe glanced over at Branchbark, who was stretching with a yawn, and said, “I’m so sorry to bother you some more, but Sagetooth said I should take you with me to gather the herbs. Would that be alright?” 

Branchbark nodded and stood. “Sure thing, I wouldn’t mind getting out of camp for a while. What are we gathering?” 

“Sage,” said Oddstripe, turning to pad with him out of the camp. 

“Sounds good,” purred the warrior. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting your nap,” Oddstripe said again, tail swishing. She hated imposing on him like that. Despite the guilt she was feeling, Branchbark smiled and shrugged as they walked. 

“That’s alright,” he said, “I’m always happy to help the healers uh…” he paused, searching for an alliterative word, “hunt for herbs.” He accentuated the h sound on herbs and Oddstripe laughed. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” she purred, “and I appreciate Ospreymask’s help with the kits. I have no idea how I would manage being a healer and raising them at the same time without her.” 

“I guess that’s why healers aren’t supposed to have kits,” Branchbark nodded. Oddstripe felt another pang of guilt. Sagetooth had assured her that she wasn’t in trouble, that she hadn’t broken any rules because she was pregnant before she swore to be a healer, but she still felt bad. To her it just felt like another reason she wasn’t a proper Clan cat. 

“Y-yeah, I suppose so,” she tried to laugh it off but Branchbark winced.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I know what you meant.” 

“Alright,” he frowned sympathetically. “I’m sure it’ll get easier once the kits are apprentices. Then they’ll have their mentors to take care of them too.” 

“Yeah,” Oddstripe nodded. “That does sound nice. Sometimes I wish I were their father instead so I could still raise them without so much of the responsibility.” She blushed, tail starting to swish idly. 

“Yeah?” asked Branchbark, tilting his head. “I mean you could be if you wanted.” 

Oddstripe laughed, then realized he wasn’t joking. “Oh, I’m sorry, what?” 

“You could just be their dad,” he said, as if it were that simple. 

“But… I’m not,” she frowned. “She-cats are mothers not fathers.” 

Branchbark shrugged again. “I guess, but you don’t have to be a she-cat, you know.” 

Oddstripe stopped in place, tilting her head in confusion. “Huh? I- I’m sorry, I feel like I’m missing something.” Sure, she thought, it would be wonderful if she could just change like that, but it wasn’t possible. Although… Perhaps StarClan had powerful magic that could grant wishes or something. That was an exciting thought. 

What Branchbark said was a lot less grand. “You can just decide you’re a tom. Cats do it all the time.”

“Really?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he smiled, straightening up. “She-cats decide they’re toms, toms decide they’re she-cats. Some cats even decide they feel somewhere in between.” 

Oddstripe couldn’t wrap her head around the concept. “And then…? How do they become a tom once they decide?” 

“They just are,” he said warmly. “If you say you’re a tom, cats will believe you. There you go.” He shrugged again, and Oddstripe was again baffled by how simple it seemed. 

“So it's not magic?” she said, ears wilting. 

“No, it's just…” he hesitated before suddenly grinning as he caught a metaphor in his teeth, “it’s like a ceremony. There’s nothing that changes about a cat when they become a warrior except for the fact that everyone agrees they are one. It’s words. It’s courtesy. Does that make sense?” 

Oddstripe hummed and licked her whiskers. “I suppose.” She wasn’t sure she fully understood but it was an intriguing idea. 

“It’s alright, I know I’m not the best explainer,” laughed Branchbark. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” smiled Oddstripe, propelling herself forward again. “We should probably hurry though. I’m sure Sagetooth will be upset if we spend all day talking instead of harvesting sage.” 

“You’re probably right,” the warrior laughed. “Come on, I’ll race you.” He dropped into a crouch and waggled his hips tauntingly. “Oh!” Oddstripe brightened. Sagetooth probably wouldn’t approve, but Branchbark’s energy was infectious. “Okay, ready, set, go!” She bunched her legs beneath her and waggled her hips as she spoke. On the final word, they both shot forward, sprinting through the grass in a heart pounding bit of horseplay that Oddstripe couldn’t help but lose herself in. Something about Branchbark made everything so simple. Simple and exciting. As they ran, Oddstripe felt like the whole world was stretched out in front of her paws. His paws? The thought was fleeting and Oddstripe let herself forget it in favor of focusing on not letting Branchbark completely embarrass her in the race.

[ohwowimlonley]

DAY EIGHTEEN

Jack Kline + oral fixation kink

[warnings - fluff, clueless!jack, oral fixation]

[word count - 697]

[kinktober list]

Jack has always had an issue with focusing. It’s never become an outright problem - one that must be solved immediately - but his mind is almost always wandering. 

Another quaint foible of his is that his mouth is always moving, an unrelenting slew of completely useless information and questions tumbling from it. 

You have recently learned the trick to solving these problems. The Winchester brothers haven’t learned this yet - you doubt they would humour the concept if they found it out - but it’s become your go-to for when you need him to absorb a great deal of information.

-

“Jack, honey,” you nudge him, ever so gently with the tips of your fingers on the curve of his shoulder, rousing him from his television-induced daze and snapping his attention to you, “can we talk about something for a minute?”

“Sure!” He always talks like this; as if a puppy were endowed with the ability to speak, you can almost see his fictional tail wagging. It never fails to make you grin like a madman, flattered by his sheer excitement of just the prospect of conversing with you. 

Despite this, his attention soon drifts back to the colourful display on the tv. You almost roll your eyes, but it is your own fault (there’s no way of keeping his attention when Scooby Doo is playing).

“Jack,” you lilt, stroking your nimble fingers over his clothed shoulder as you reach over for the remote. You shut the tv off, much to Jack’s chagrin, and turn him to face you, “I need to talk to you, okay? So you need to listen to me. D’you think you can do that for me?”

To anyone else, you might sound condescending, but Jack seems to enjoy the light tone to your voice. He bobs his head along to your words, though you’re not entirely convinced he’s actually absorbing any information.

“Okay, so, I was thinking, since the boys are out for the weekend, we might want to give the place a good tidy,” you suggest, carding your fingers absentmindedly through his soft locks. 

Again, his attention seems to float away with the sensation of your nails scratching at his scalp. He leans into your palm, following the pleasant itching like a cat when you catch the right spot behind its ear. You want to feel frustrated with him, but it’s just so difficult when he acts innocently, with his wide, vacant eyes boring into your own.

“Jack, honey,” you drop your sweet tone a tad, letting him know you want his full focus, “I know you find it hard to listen sometimes, but let’s try really hard, okay?”

He nods firmly. He’s determined this time; he will not get distracted.

Two minutes later, he’s back in wonderland.

“Baby,” you sigh. Jack looks back to you, then frowns.

“I’m sorry,” he insists. He wants to pay you attention. You know he does. He just… can’t, “I am sorry, I- I-”

“Shh, I know,” you soothe, pushing your hand over a thick patch of his hair and smoothing it down onto his forehead. You lean over, press a kiss over the makeshift fringe, “how about we try something to help you focus?”

“Like what?” He cocks his head, ever the curious boy.

“Well,” you stall, blinking harshly and fending off the warmth rising in your cheeks, “maybe I should just show you, is that okay?”

He doesn’t even pretend to consider your offer before nodding enthusiastically. You shuffle closer to him, your thighs overlap his. You carry on talking, but, as you do so, begin slipping your fingers up his chin and pull his lips apart, then his teeth. The pads of your fingers push down on his tongue, allowing the young man to suckle gently at the length of your finger. His eyes close contentedly, and his forehead drops to your shoulder. He nods along to most of your statements, humming garbled sounds around your fingers to indicate his approval of your suggestions.

It may not be the most conventional way, but you’ve found the perfect way to seize Jack’s full attention. And, if you like it a little too, no one has to know.

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