#and a cat that is turning and swiping in fear

[idontneedspaceineedyou]

lisa swain ass song

So basically you want me to die

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 3 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: a night out with dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 4.6k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader, marijuana mention, drinking, blowjob mention, public sex mention, dabi is a guard dog a/n: i know that everyone is always like "yes daddy dabi mmm fuck me yea he's a hard dom" but i for one think he is so scarred that the idea of intimacy floods touya with absolute panic. like, pleasure???? he barely knows that when it's by his own hand. ANNNND we WILL be talking about that! ← previous | the tag

You do end up getting a good grade on that paper.

Which, frankly, is a relief, because ever since you decided to text Dabi, life has been weird. Like... weird-weird. It wasn't the catastrophic derailment you feared, but a slow burn (ha, get it?) of weirdness you feel in your bones. 

I mean, Dabi is weird. He is consistently inconsistent in his texting. Bursts of haptic feedback frequently interrupt your focus in lectures that week, and you find yourself being Pavlov-dogged into checking after two or more vibrations break through the usual iMessage silence. He acts like he's known you for years. He's weird.

He's a terminal triple-texter. He's a chronic user of text emojis that went out of style years ago. Weird. 

→ dabi ; 9:34am ya idk princess i think i might kms public execution sounds soooo hot rn i am so fuckin hungover what r u up 2 o wait it's tues. ur in class rn aren't u lmfao :p

← bar girl ; 9:36am why are you hungover on a tuesday

→ dabi ; 9:36am depression idfk

He's weird. Sorta funny. And he's clingy.

Clingy if clingy means vying for your attention — and clingy if clingy means texting you again if you don't respond after an hour and a half of silence. God forbid you overlook his texts in favor of doing the dishes, brushing Mizu, or even showering. 

Friday evening rolls around and Dabi is still texting you. 

→ dabi ; 6:56pm ...i asked you a question it's friday r u going out with nuri + the rest of blackpink or nah :/

You exhale tightly, sweeping the towel closer and ignoring the gathering water droplets on your phone as you hammer back a quick reply. 

← bar girl ; 6:57pm i am begging you to let me shower in peace

He's typing.

→ dabi ; 6:57pm what do u want me to say to that. "aha without me????? :p" stfu i don't care about ur shower giran said ur going out.

It does make you laugh — one thing about Dabi is that the flirting is rudimentary and blunt, and he always extinguishes it before you even react. It's sort of refreshing... in a confusing way. A weird way. 

He can't help it.

You're kinda fun. In a weird way. 

Touya doesn't know what the fuck he's doing if he's being honest with himself. It's not like this is his thing. He didn't think this would turn into a weird, big deal — not that it is... But, his body and brain feel like it is because he likes texting you and hates when you don't respond. Whatever. He didn't think you'd seriously take his number at the bar. No one is ever stupid enough to take him up on that offer. 

You're just some stupid college girl who happens to be nice and honest and has a cute cat. A dime a dozen. He can ignore you, leave you on read, and dump you for the next item whenever he wants. Any day now. 

Just... Not today.

Your text lights up his lock screen. A scarred thumb swipes it open with ease. 

← bar girl ; 7:01pm yes, dabi, i'm going out with them

His smirk is crooked and it pulls at the staples in his cheeks. It's enough for him — and now that he's gotten the reply he wants, he drifts into that sudden radio silence that confuses you. 

You're getting ready, phone charging, and find yourself hovering back into your bedroom between hair and make-up — you tap your phone awake, and each time: there's nothing. 

It's not until you're in the back of the Uber, shouldered between Nuri and the others, that he finally responds. You squint in the dark at the notification, scoffing to yourself.

→ dabi ; 9:44pm where r u

Something ignites in the back of your mind — the culmination of weirdness. Dabi's looking for you at the bar. Of course, he is.

You hammer back a reply, the two shots you took in the kitchen with the girls — before getting in the rideshare — are creeping in. The glow of your text illuminates your heavy liner and lash.

← bar girl ; 9:45pm relax hot stuff

His reply is almost instant.

→ dabi ; 9:46pm just bc ur pretty doesn't mean u can tell me what 2 do now let's try that again princess where r u

His texts tingle something in the back of your mind. It's the weirdness. It's back. You don't hate it, but it flusters you — just enough that you're quick to respond. 

← bar girl ; 9:46pm two min away

Again, his reply is instantaneous. 

→ dabi ; 9:47pm :)

And unsettling. 

When the ride pulls up to the bar, everyone is quick to thank the driver as they pile out of the back seat and into the crisp evening air. It's getting colder. As you give the Uber driver another kind goodbye and shut the door, you can hear Nuri squealing — a telltale sign that she's found her man of the hour. Or week. Or month. You don't know. 

According to Nuri, Giran isn't as shitty as you originally thought. 

After all, that new (and expensive) purse on her arm is a gift from The Broker himself. 

The acrid smell of tobacco and a touch of something else curls around you in greeting as you turn and blink into the blaring neon signs of the bar. By the edge of the building, Giran is hugging Nuri while smoke curls from his nose like a dragon. 

The lean, tall figure in all black beside him puffs quietly on the shared cigarette.

So much for quitting.

Giran insisted on stepping out for a smoke — and well, Dabi was bribed with the offer of a fresh hand-roll. He's got his vices. He hasn't smoked in, like, three weeks. Cut him some fucking slack. S'not like it's a Marlboro. And it's definitelynot that shit Splinter smoked him out with — that horrifying strain that nearly killed both him and Shigaraki one night.

It's a shitty, cheap spliff.

His eyes, cutting and blue, pin you where you stand. He takes another purposeful drag as his turquoise eyes rake over your figure. You look good. Real good.

Pretty. 

Between the wisps of smoke, there's something floral, sweet, and soft in the air. 

Your perfume. 

You ignore the creeping feeling of becoming prey and instead, heed Nuri's laughter and smiles as she waves you over to meet Giran formally. You do as you're told, toddling beside the others as you shake Giran's hand. His dark eyes flicker with something like recognition before drifting sideward to Dabi. 

"We're going to head in — I'll grab us all drinks," he grins, the look a little lopsided; Nuri coos and the others hardly protest. Giran takes one last drag of his hand-roll before passing it back to Dabi with a wink; his smile unsettles you, "You two finish that for me, yeah?"

With that, you're left outside the bar with Dabi and his cigarette.

He tugs on the hood over his head a little, sniffling and rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb as he balances the burning gift between his fingers. His eyes haven't left you once. 

You take the opportunity to look him over. Ripped jeans, a broken-in pair of Doc Martens. There's a black t-shirt hem poking out from under the baggy, black hoodie on his shoulders. Some scraggly, nearly illegible metal band name is embossed into the material. 

There's a black face mask tugged around his chin as he aims to finish the cigarette. He flicks the embers into the wet pavement in a practiced move. The burning butt hangs between two long and deft fingers. 

"You're starin'."

You cross your arms, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. "I thought you told me you quit." 

His laugh is a raspy, dangerous wheeze. Dabi leans back against the building's black brick. Beneath his hood, you can see his blue eyes narrow.

"Don't get yer panties in a twist," Dabi murmurs as he swallows and exhales, "It's a single spliff. S'nothin'." 

Ah, so that explains it. 

Arms still crossed, you gesture easily for a hit. You crook two fingers, black nail polish glinting in the neon lights. Dabi hesitates, the dwindling cigarette perched between his lips. 

"No," he denies the request, smacking your hand down and away, "M'not corrupting you."

"Corrupting me?" you laugh, tucking your hand back under your armpit to stay warm. You're regretting not bringing a jacket. You just didn't want to deal with coat check, "Seriously?"

It's bad enough he's dragged you into his shit.

"Giran's shit sucks anyways," Dabi explains away roughly, flicking the butt of the remainder of the roach, "S'barely enough to get a rat high."

"Perfect. I love rats," you chirp back; your grin is slow, "I'm a one-hit wonder anyways."

Suddenly, Dabi feels the need to protect you surge inside of him. He puts greater distance between you and the spliff on instinct. 

What the fuck is happening?

"I'm not getting you high," Dabi says firmly, taking one last drag, "And I'm not giving you any drunk cigarettes either. S' against my glimmering, perfect morals."

"Riiiight," you nod; the weirdness is ebbing away. Right now, it feels like another night of texting. Easy. Fun. You sigh and shake your head, "Must be hard being such a perfect guy." 

"You've got no fuckin' idea," he drops the roach to the pavement as he exhales long and hard before gesturing to his lonely state outside the bar, "Gotta beat th' girls offa me."

"Is this you wallowing?" you ask in good humor as Dabi cracks his neck.

"No, this was me waitin' fer you t' show," he corrects before lobbing one long arm around your shoulders and tugging you close to his side, "Cuz' m'gonna have t' beat the guys offa you."

He smells like fire and tobacco and a little bit of weed, but also laundry detergent and crisp, sporty deodorant. Like a real person, and not like some mythic League of Villains member who needs to hide his face to even be here. 

He tugs the face mask back up his jaw, the hood still on. 

You're back to feeling weird. Like prey. But, less like the rabbit in his snapping maw, and more like the treasured kill. Is that what this feeling is? He feels it too. He's been feelin' it. 

Is he catching feelings?

Are you? 

This is why he asked if you were going out, isn't it? So he could keep an eye on you. So he could keep anyone else away from you. 

Clingy.

You don't say anything, only slip him a curious look when he tosses the bouncer a crinkled wad of yen from a well-worn wallet for your cover charge. You allow him to lead you into the bar, and you allow his arm to stay around your shoulders. The tall, dark-haired arsonist weaves easily through the chatter, music, and dancing — and easy as breathing, his arm slips from your shoulders and down your arm. He doesn't hold your hand — but he does tug on your wrist as the crowd bunches together near the bustling bar.

The back of him cuts an intimidating figure.

Dabi is tall. 

Wordlessly, he manages to make enough room at the bar. There's an open seat. He nudges his chin towards it, allowing you to slip up onto the stool. It feels like you've got your own guard dog of sorts. 

You don't know how to feel now.

The weirdness is back on your tongue. 

Dabi is fiddling with his dangling, silver earring as he speaks. It's loud in here. Busy. Lots of bodies. The thrum of the bass is heady and heavy in your chest. He has to lean down — to get close to your ear — for you to hear him. 

"Whaddaya want t' drink?" he calls over the baseline, his arm leaned on the back of your seat. 

You turn your cheek, wondering if you should milk this whole guard dog act. You make a move for the small purse hanging on your shoulder. Dabi waves you off, looking non-plussed. 

It's a peace offering, he reasons. For blowing your phone up this whole week... Right? Not like he has to apologize. That's what people do. They fuckin' text one another. S'whatever. 

"Just lemme buy you a fuckin' drink, will ya? Don't make it a thing," he says again, tugging off the black face mask and stuffing it into his back pocket. 

He doesn't really need to worry about anyone clocking who he is in here — it's dark enough, and not exactly the best bar in Kamino Ward. Dabi tugs his hood down and runs a palm through his thick, black hair. He's fixing his cowlick, trying his best to hide the creep of shyness. 

Don't make it a thing.

Isn't this a thing? This whole thing?

You sit up a little straighter, leaning in to speak up over the music. At your cue, Dabi leans down again and your nose nearly brushes the staples crawling up his cheeks. "Fine. Get me a rum and coke."

It's confusing. You're... fine with being this close to him. No one is ever this fine with being close to him. He's mangled and scarred and fucked up, and usually fear makes people bite. You haven't done that.

You've treated him like a normal fucking person.

He scoffs. He turns his face and you can smell the cigarette on his breath. And mint. The echos of chewing gum. 

"No need t' be frugal about it, princess." 

Your eyes narrow incrementally, trying to sus out what the everloving fuck is happening right now. Is this real? Is he��real? Are you seriously here, letting Dabi buy you a drink after allowing him to blow your phone up with nonsensical texts all week? The Dabi. The League of Villains' Favorite Fire Starter, Dabi. 

Texting him was a bad idea.

Letting him buy you a drink is an even worse one.

Your rum and coke and his shitty beer are traded for another wad of wrinkled yen with the bartender. You accept the bought drink, gathering the straw before knocking back a strong sip. Dabi swigs his beer, but his blue eyes stick on you in the swiveling strobes of the bar. Blue eyes connect with yours and you find your gaze hitching on the way his Adam's apple bobs as he drinks. 

You never considered Dabi handsome.

Not until this moment.

Maybe that's where you went wrong with all this. Maybe you fucked up by assuming you'd never be swallowing down a wad of attraction as heavy as a magnet. It's so apparent you almost choke. 

His pierced brow quirks as he side-eyes you. 

What the fuck is going on tonight?

It's fine. You smother the thoughts blaring in the back of your mind like a fire alarm with another longer sip of the rum and coke in your hands. The condensation is cold and wet. Grounding. Remember who you are. Not a villain. 

He can eat you alive.

But, Dabi... He... doesn't really want to.

You're squeezing the lime into your drink when Dabi leans in again. 

"What's the deal with Giran an' Nuri, huh?" 

You follow his eye-line and spot the two in question at the far end of the bar. They're mirroring you and Dabi except for the distinct amount of touching. Nuri can hardly keep her hands off of Giran. The Broker doesn't seem to mind. You lean into Dabi's personal space as you respond. Both of your gazes remain on the two.

"I told you," you remind him, "She thinks she can fix him."

Dabi's laugh is dry in your ear. "Is gettin' in his pants part of her plan?" 

You roll your eyes at him, turning to lean a bit closer. "He bought her that Hermès bag. I don't really blame her for wanting to sleep with him after that."

It's a joke.

Dabi smirks into his beer. "What, is buyin' you a drink not enough? I gotta go designer now?" 

You're impressed that you don't stutter; liquid courage be damned. "Is that an offer?"

Dabi sneers. He shoves you with his elbow albeit lightly. It's a signal — drop it. Just like how he extinguishes any flirting over text, he does it now in person. 

"S' dedication on his part."

"Maybe it's love," you coo as you take another sip and look up at him, "Maybe they're meant for one another."

Touya drums his knuckles on the back of your bar stool as he rolls his jaw. He's quiet for a while — busy dragging his eyes around the establishment. Seems like everyone here has someone with them. Someone they care about. How the fuck do they do that? How do people trust like that? Touya's blue eyes narrow in on Giran and Nuri once more, only to feel like he's intruding. The sight of a long kiss shared makes Dabi drag his eyes away from the two at the end of the bar. A pang of longing strikes up his core, only to be worsened when he looks down and sees you staring at him again in the darkness of the bar. 

"What?"

"You're high," you say with a growing smirk, "Aren't you?"

"Fuck off—"

"—I knew it."

"M'not high," Dabi counters, realizing as he speaks that he is. Just a little bit. Not enough for it to be a problem, "Shut up."

You feel a little bit like you've won a game. The rules were never clearly defined, never agreed upon — you watch him inhale sharply through his nose as his eyes dart around the bar behind him. 

"Then why'd you get so quiet about that?" you pry, leaning against the cool, damp counter as you swivel in your stool. Your knees brush his thigh. 

Maybe if you pretend that attraction isn't there, it will go away.

Maybe it will die a lonely death in the pit of your heart.

"About what?" he grits out, leaning onto his elbow. He crosses his boots at the ankle, trying to ignore the burn of your body pressed against his in the closeness of this bar. Dabi's fingers pick at the label of his beer absently.

"About looooove," you yammer on, waggling your head and leaning closer, "What, does Mr. Bad Boy not believe in love?"

Dabi scoffs in your face. "You're drunk."

Your lips part. You look offended — but he can see a smile tugging at the corners of your lips regardless. You press a palm to your chest as you speak, "I'm fine."

"Fine enough for another rum 'n' coke?" he asks as he nods towards your empty glass. The ice is melting. Dabi'ssmirking. 

You flatten your look. "I'm buying it."

"Nope," he pops the 'p'. He's wrangling for his wallet again and digging it out of the back pocket well-worn pair of skinny jeans. His fingers are quick, flipping the torn and half-destroyed wallet open as he flags the bartender down, "I told you. Don't make it a thing. Do y' want another one, or nah?"

You squint at him. 

Then, you concede.

"One more."

Dabi's grin breaks across his face like a lightning strike. Dangerous. "Good girl. Was that so hard?"

The weirdness gives way — it burns. Your chest feels like it's on fire. If Dabi notices, he doesn't say shit. You're glad. You don't know if you'd ever be able to come back from it if he did. 

There's a part of him that knows what he's doing. There's a part, deep down, that knows this will end up hurting worse than anything imaginable, he's sure. But, whatever. So it goes. Touya doesn't give a shit. Hurting makes him feel human. 

That rum and coke arrives just as some clean-cut, dopey-looking fucker strides up the bar beside you. He's got a patterned button-up on and a watch that looks too heavy for his wrist. Dabi is paying, jutting his jaw out in thanks to the bartender, when Mr. Perfect tries to strike up a conversation with you.

His teeth are eerily white in the bar's dark as he tries to get your attention. 

You try to hide a wince when the stranger's hand touches your shoulder. 

(You don't wince when he touches you, Dabi realizes smugly.)

Before the man can even talk to you, there's a pair of turquoise eyes boring a hole into the man's skull.

"Hey, pal," comes the rasped crackle of Dabi's voice over your shoulder, "She ain't interested."

You haven't heard this tone from him before — it's flat and hollow and sharp, almost like being on the receiving end could make you bleed. It takes a moment for it to register, and when you blink up at Dabi, you realize that he's angry. 

Your fingers tighten around your drink.

The man doesn't seem to get it. He just laughs — and tries to brush off the attempted cock block by doubling down. 

Bad idea.

You can't help but freeze when Dabi moves, sliding behind you and cornering the man against the bar. Suddenly, the resident arsonist's poor posture is forgotten. His height unfolds a wave of intimidation as he roots his fist in the back of the guy's collar. 

"You know," Dabi grits with a flash of his eyes as he leans into the man's personal space; the expression could be mistaken for a smile, but you know better, "I really fuckin' hate it when I have to repeat myself."

You tighten your jaw. You take a sip of your drink and try to ignore the tension developing beside you. You sip your rum and coke and pray this doesn't become a bigger scene than it needs to be.

One hard shove displaces the unwanted attention — and now Dabi has assumed the spot on the other side of you. He leans on the bar, both elbows planted, and then tips back his beer. The victor.

Your eyes dart over your shoulder. The man is gone, lost in the flood of bouncing bodies on the dance floor.

Morally speaking, you're on the ropes. You're a grown woman. You can take care of yourself. You know how to say no. You know how to tell a man to fuck off and eat shit. You can do it, and... you would. You were about to—

"Stop makin' it a thing."

Dabi's voice cuts through your thoughts. You blink back at him and realize he's avoiding eye contact.

You cross your legs, exhale, and rub the spot between your brows. 

This bastard is giving you a headache. But, y'know, nothing new there.

"I could've handled that on my own, y'know—"

Dabi scoffs. He taps his finished beer down onto the counter before pushing back upright and turning to look at you. His hair hangs in his eyes. 

"—That's nice. I don't care—"

"—But, thank you." 

You pin him with a look that's all too unamused, and Dabi doesn't like that his heart does some weird fuckin' stutter thing. The villain's brows knit for a moment as he tries to sort out what the fuck is happening, and then he rolls his jaw and shrugs. He goes a little rigid at the thank you. 

"...It's whatever."

It's cute. 

Your expression softens. You settle into your seat and take a sip of your drink. Dabi's stare is off a thousand yards, rooted somewhere between the drink coaster and your thighs.

"Stop making it a thing," you parrot back at him, nudging him with your elbow.

It drags him back to earth. Dabi snorts through his nose, then winds his arms around himself as he makes a point of scouring the bar. His voice is dry. "It's not a thing."

Right. 

Right. 

For once, you're thankful for the interruption of your friends begging you to come dance. 

The three of them are beaming brightly, their hands tugging on your arms and shoulders as they swarm you at the bar. You have to laugh; they're insisting the song that's playing is your song but you have no recollection of ever even liking this artist. It's a ploy, you know, to get you to let loose.

You glance towards Dabi. 

You swear he's almost smiling.

"I don't dance," he rasps, leaning lazily against the bar, "So don't ask."

"Fine," you murmur, wriggling down from the stool and taking a brave, long sip after tugging your skirt down; you brush your shoulder against Dabi's as you step away from the bar, "Suit yourself."

Your friends are cheering, tugging you into the fray. And Dabi is left there, leaning against the bartop, watching you disappear into the crowd.

Maybe you should have known, then, that this exact predicament was bound to happen. 

It happens four songs in — right after you finish the rum and coke that was delivered right into your hands when your darling Nuri made her appearance. The lights sway, slow to catch up to the bob of your head as you let loose.

You smell that cologne first. 

Then, there are hands on your waist.

A big watch, no doubt a fake, snakes around the front of your waist. Your brows knot together as your mouth curls into an angered scowl. You're about to stomp on the guy's foot, you're about to throw the watered-down dredges of your drink in the guy's face.

But, as quick as the touch came, it was gone.

Then, the smell of fire on the night air. 

The new hands that fall on your hips are decidedly more conscious. They don't tug or pull, they simply curl around the soft curve there. The owner of the hands leans in, his chest pressed to your back, as he's jostled by the crowd. The studs on his belt are cool against the skin above your lower back where your shirt has ridden up.

When you look back, familiar turquoise eyes are staring.

He leans closer, your stride in the dance unbroken, and raises his voice over the bass. 

"Don't make it a thing."

The position is entirely too intimate for you to even register. Then, his eyes flick a little lower, and you lean your head back a bit against his chest. Your hips rock a bit, only enough to keep the beat, as you tilt your chin and lean to speak into his ear. Your nose brushes his scars and his entire body reacts.

"I thought you didn't dance?"

If your hips roll against him again, you try to tell yourself it was on accident.

And just like that, he's swooping your finished drink out of your hand and he's gone. 

He doesn't dance. He... He doesn't... feel things. He could walk out of this bar and feel nothing. He could dump his burner in the harbor and never look back, and there would be no skin off his back.

Just... Not today.

Not today, he tells himself as he steps outside with a bummed cigarette in hand trying to adjust himself in his jeans. It dangles between his lips as he grunts, puffs, and the keys on his belt jingle. Touya rubs his palm against his eye as he tries to get a grip.

You're just some stupid college girl who happens to be pretty and kind and has a nice ass. A dime a dozen. He can fuck you, leave you on read, and dump you for the next item whenever he wants. Any day now. 

So why doesn't he?

He could buck the fuck up, head back in there, and drag you to the bathroom. 

He could. H-He could. Give him ten minutes, and he could make a mess across your face like he keeps havin' those dreams about. Give him some time and he'll have you screamin' his name — and no one would even hear it over the music. 

Touya tugs at his hair.

He could.

That doesn't mean he wants to, though.

Fuck. 

[angelbarelywritesslashers]

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

[bumblehoneybee]

A Loyal Dog

This one is for the lovely @bonnie-lover123 ! Thank you for the request!

You didn’t see the little bear in the vents when you were running. You didn’t see the red paw and dyed claws reach between the bent bars, not until they were curved around your calf, easily tearing through the skin and muscle. With a cry, you collapse to the floor, leg burning too hot to support any weight you try to put on it.

“ANGEL!” Dogday called, somewhere overhead.

You gritted your teeth, crawling forward, towards the last room you needed. Perhaps splitting up wasn’t the best idea. Two batteries, two of you, easy to do. Send Dogday up while you ran around the ground floor, evading Catnap’s prowl and red gas clouds.

Yet now here you were. You reached the room, the battery shining through the darkness at you. It illuminated the surrounding area, just barely, so you could see the shifting shadows. A body stalked just outside, eyes glittering just above the broken wall.

Catnap graveled out to you. Your eyes darted about, but there was nowhere to run. You were caged. You only had one option, one you hated to resort to.

“DOGDAY!” You shrieked, startling the cat. “HELP!”

“ANGEL!” Dogday shouted back.

You called for him. Dogday’s ears rang with the sound of your voice, full of fear and pain. He could see Catnap down below, shaking his head out. A blood smear beneath his feet, leading into the room before him, where you must be. 

Catnap braced on the broken wall, and reached inside.

“DOGDAY!” You cried again.

Dogday didn’t hesitate a second time. His angel needed help, and he needed to protect them. None of this would end if he didn’t do something about it. So Dogday dropped off the rafters, flung himself down onto Catnap’s emaciated back. The ridges of the cat’s vertebrae stabbed into his stomach, but Dogday didn’t care.

His momentum took the cat down, and if he was down, then he was on Dogday’s level.

With a bark, Dogday bit onto Catnap’s shoulder, hard enough to feel something crack. Catnap yowled, so high pitched and loud that Dogday felt his ears would bleed. But he didn’t let go, not until Catnap flipped over, slamming his own weight onto Dogday.

The sharp edges of exposed bone were not cushion by the thin skin stretched across them, leaving Dogday aching horribly where hit. Still, he quickly rightened, positioning himself in front of the door. His fur bristled, and he barked again at the pacing cat before him.

“Stay away from them, Catnap.” He growled, so tense he felt he could snap. “Do not touch my angel, or I will tear you apart, even without my legs.”

“Heretic.” Catnap spat.

“Hypocrite.” Dogday barked back.

Catnap hissed, swiping with his claws. Dogday easily dodged the halfhearted attack, and dove forward again to grab the wrist between his jaws. Even if Catnap didn’t want to kill him, he wouldn’t allow the cat a chance to touch his angel.

He bit hard, and felt the wrist snap too.

Catnap jerked his arm back, nearly throwing Dogday across the floor with it. Gas poured out his mouth in red waves, but Dogday was immune by now. Drowsiness was shaken off, staved by hot, bright anger.

“I won’t let you kill them.” Dogday panted, hoping you were conscious enough to put your mask on. “Not like you killed the others. Not like you killed our friends.”

Catnap flinched back. “Heretics.”

“Innocent!” Dogday howled. “You killed them! And you won’t kill anymore, not if I have a say in it. I’ll kill you before you lay another hand on them!”

Catnap remained silent. The gas stopped, but his stare still burned into Dogday’s very being. The quiet was too loud, but neither filled it. As the gas dispersed into the gaps in the wall, rising into the rafters, Catnap turned.

And he walked away.

“They will die,” he said, not looking back, “whether you try or not. Do not be stupid.”

With that, Catnap turned the corner, and disappeared.

Dogday sighed, only once he was sure Catnap was gone. Even after, he backed up into the room with you slowly, eyes forward in case this was a trick.

When he felt your hand on his side, he turned, seeing you with your mask up. Your smile was like the sun, even if you were paled and shaky.

“Good boy.” You joked quietly, stroking his fur. “You protected me, and scared Catnap off.”

“I won’t let him hurt you.” Dogday promised. He lowered, pressing his head to yours. “You saved me, so I’m going to save you. Let’s go, angel. I got the other battery. There should be somewhere to patch up through the locked door.”

You stood, and braced against Dogday, started back towards your objective.

And you never felt safer.

[starfxkrinc]

sometimes jj regretted bringing you home. from the moment he grabbed you out that alley you were nothing but a pain in his ass, yeowling and scratching like a cat outta hell.

which, you were. when he found you he could barely get ahold of you without you hissing, so angry you were trembling. but he saw past that anger, there was pure fear. you were a tiny thing all notched ears and a scar over your eye. its a miracle you didn’t give him cat scratch fever.

unsurprisingly it took nothing for you to become a spoiled brat. a nice bath and a good meal does that to anyone. now jj wakes up every morning to your rumbling purrs as you rubbed your face against his, digging your claws into him as you kneaded his chest. the consistent meals having fattened you up and the scars fading to pale white streaks in your fur.

you still had your moods, you were a sullen thing prone to moping in the corner when you wanted to be left alone, swiping at jjs hand when he reached for you,

“you’re a mean little thing you know that? cats like you are why i’m a dog person.”

he never meant it, because he said this with you cradled in his arms as he rubbed under your chin.

life with you wasn’t half bad as long as he gave you a nice bath and tuna treats. it was a constant, and jj liked constants.

so when he woke up without the solid weight of you on his chest he grumbled, figuring you managed to unlock the screen window yet again.

“sugar you get out one more time i’m turning you into some slippers. what the fuck—“

on the couch, instead of his fat, spoiled cat was…a girl? sprawled out right where he left his girl last night after she refused to come to bed.

weird.

but you were waking up with a stretch, slowly blinking best as you can with your wonky eye, and unlike him you looked unphased.

if anything you looked annoyed.

“m’hungry. make me some food.”

what the fuck. “what the fuck?”

you sit up completely and jj realizes youre completely naked save for the makeshift bandana collar he made you.

“its breakfast time and i’m hungry. i want food nowwww.”

“who the hell are you?”

in a second your face transformed, eyebrows knitting into a scowl and all of a sudden he sees it, that same shitty glare he gets when he forgets to pay the tuna tax.

oh! okay! this is new.

then the scowl crumples to a pout and you’re crying, “why would you say that?”

you leap up and in a bout of muscle memory he snatches you into his arms, his hands dug under your armpits as he dangles you in the air.

he’s obviously still confused, but instinct takes over when he kisses your nose, “i’m sorry sugar i’m just. “i’m kinda confused that’s all.”

“why?”

“well,” jj pauses and gives you a once over, “last night your were smaller. and a lot fuzzier.”

finally you smile, “ohhhh that. well i got lost, then you found me, and i love you lots so i can be big now.”

“just like that?”

you nod and he walks over to the kitchen counter to plop you down, “so. will you turn back…?”

“only if i get lost again, so you gotta take care of me.”

“that simple?”

you nod again, “that simple.”

well shit, there’s nothing else he can do now.

“guess its time for breakfast.”

[awritesthings1]

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: You ask your husband Tommy if he believes in ghosts. The answer might surprise you.

Warnings: dark, angst, spooky.

ao3 link

-

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

It was near the end of winter, and another autumn of earl grey teas and tireless raking of crunchy leaves was fast approaching Arrow House. Tommy’s peaky cap lived on the coat hanger by the front door, dusted in the faint smell of smog. Gone was the silver razor; the Shelby’s were much too respectable for that anymore. In came the monogram initials, all of which had been carefully handstitched onto cuffs and collars to match golden cufflinks, and out came the fine woolen overcoats.

The weather lay thickly that year over the English countryside, enough to invoke a ghostly mist around the trimmed hedges and shorn grass. A stillness crept in as sly as a cat when the fog came down, covering all life with a sheer dew. The garden retired into a dull combination of cool greens and toe-curling crystal air.

It was at this time of year that the monsters came out to play in their ominously shaped shadows and faint howls. Where there was a tick of movement, an airy silence and childhood fear followed. Tommy would have teased you endlessly for your paranoia if he hadn’t suffered through the same fate after the war. You supposed he had more of a right than you because his fears came from a very real place, and yours were out of superstition.

“Spirits,” Tommy clarified. “Yes, it’s in my blood.”

“But have you ever seen one?”

Tommy turns his head to look at you, squeezing you closer to his chest from where you both lay under the covers.

“Why’d you ask?” His accent was thicker in the morning.

If anyone knew anything about spirits, it would be your husband. He was more superstitious than you due to his gypsy blood. The things he told you about the community were nothing short of witchcraft—charming dogs, telling fortunes, and cursing wrong'uns. It puzzled you at first that your seemingly pragmatic, calculating husband believed nothing short of Madame Boswell’s words as nothing but gospel.

You stared out the window, attempting to conjure up the right words, but shivered instead when his fingers ghosted across your back.

“Well… I don’t know. I don’t think I would believe in something until I saw it for sure with my own two eyes.”

He hummed and smiled lazily. “Why do people believe in God, hm?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged as best you could in his embrace.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Eh?”

“Have you ever seen a spirit?"

Tommy’s eyes glazed over in thought. It was the answer you dreaded.

“Yes.”

“Were you scared?”

He blinked out of the daze.

“No.”

Your hand moved to rest on the cusp of his cheek.

“What happened?”

He cleared his throat and laced his hand with yours there on his face.

“I was nine. Madame Lovell’s nephew drowned in a lake the day before, and then on the day of the funeral, it rained. I was running back from over the hill when I saw him. He stood there staring at me through the spray of rain.”

Your thumb swiped over the tops of Tommy’s cheekbones.

“You’re certain? Maybe the rain got in your eye, and what you saw was a shadow or maybe even an eyelash in your eye. That happens to me sometimes.”

“I know what I saw.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, then tried to picture the scene for yourself. You stood atop some grassy hill, peering down into the valley. Dark plumes of smoke rose from a small coffin stationed at the bottom of the hill, slivering up through the wildflowers and tree branches to where you stood. Then there, through the smoke and rainfall that blinded your eyes, was the boy who drowned.

“Was he scared?”

A pause, then: “no.”

That night, you settled by your vanity, combing out knots and patting lotion onto your skin. The haunted look of that boy Tommy said he saw lingered in the back of your mind, and every vague shape or shadow shifted in the corner of your eye. Paranoia—that's all it was. You didn’t want to be caught staring at a dark corner like some half-mad crook. Tommy would be crossing the threshold into your room any moment now. Maybe if his last-minute business hadn’t held him up in his office, he would be here with you now, and you wouldn’t be glancing over at that suspicious coat hanging up by the wardrobe. The lamps that were lit didn’t stretch far enough to illuminate the monsters from their hiding spots.

It was a trick of the brain, that’s all.

And surely enough, Tommy’s footsteps were heard down the hall. Your shoulders slumped in relief. The autumn season was only one for the dramatics.

Your hand cream pot clattered onto the vanity, swirling in circles until it came to a stop just as you heard Tommy outside the door. But when you stood to greet him with a kiss, the door to your bedroom remained closed, and the doorhandle remained still.

“You can come in!" You laughed, but a sort of coldness seized your heart with terror when you wondered why Tommy was just standing there on the other side.

“Tommy?” You inquired after a painfully thin stretch of silence.

Again, nothing.

You reached for your comb, holding the long, sharp piece you used to part your hair out like a knife. You weren’t naïve. Tommy had enemies, opportunistic ones, too.

And so you stood there, straining to hear any noise beyond your heartbeat that thundered in your ears. You tried slowing your breathing to hear better, but your eyes then began to water from the strain and your refusal to blink. Then it happened, as abruptly as you imagined. The door burst open. Tommy rushed in, slammed the door shut behind him, and stormed over to the closet without so much a look in your direction.

“Tommy?” You squawked, still seized in terror.

He grunted, shrugging on his overcoat and snatching his leather gloves from the tallboy.

“What’s going on?”

Finally, he paused. His eyes were bloodshot and far away. You feared he looked through you rather than at you. He came closer then, pulling you into his arms and laying a warm kiss on your temple.

“Everything’s ok, darling.”

“Where are you going?” Your voice broke. “Did something happen?”

“No…” He hushed. “No.”

“Then where are you going? It’s still dark outside!”

He sighed into your disheveled hair, then pulled away.

“I need to check on one of the horses. Get into bed; I’ll be back soon.”

You clutched his lapels in protest. “No!”

He said your name sternly: “I really need to go. Frances is in her room if you need anything.”

“Tommy, I heard something!” Then, you lowered your voice so only he could hear, “I think someone’s in the house.”

He pulled you in by the scruff of your neck. “No one’s here, love. It’s just us and Frances.”

His boots thud severely against the wooden floor to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

Begrudgingly, you let him leave and confined yourself to the bed, pulling the covers over your face like a small child afraid of the dark. You left all the lights on, determined to let any intruders know that yes, you were home, and yes, you would see them coming. Tommy would be back soon, and if Tommy didn’t suspect anything amiss, he was probably right.

But the grandfather clock in the other room kept ticking, tick tick tick, and little fairies scampered about in the garden below. The moon’s solemn gaze glared judgingly through the windows, past the squinting shutters, and onto your skin. Ink from family portraits bled into one horrifying mess of shadows. You threw back the hungry covers, which seemed to be swallowing you whole, and knocked your shoulder into the jaw of the door (you had mistaken it for being further than it really was). A teacup flew off a shelf, but you dodged it with one ugly turn of your ankle.

Then you ran down the winding stairs, through the narrowing hallway, and out the chattering front doors of Arrow House. A lustrous mist had fallen over the land, thick enough that your arms whipped around senselessly, blinded by the clouded night, in your attempt to trek to the stables.

The stable gates were banging back and forth by the time you reached them. They whack your behind when you pass them, and you would’ve cried if it weren’t for the airy atmosphere peeling the moisture from your eyes.

“Tommy!”

A clack of hooves answered you.

Your feet burned despite the bitter cold, swelling with each step. Still in your nightgown, the elements worked together, clawing, scratching, and biting at your bare skin. The swell of a draft caught the tip of your nose, and you whipped around just in time to see a coat disappearing around the back of the stable where the paddock was.

Fear acted like a glaze of sweltering iron, hissing the rhythm out of your heart.

“I can see you!” You tried to warn as if you were the hunter and not the hunted.

Leather hands wrapped around your shoulders from behind.

“Are you insane, eh?” Tommy’s gruff voice scolded in your ear.

You turned around to crumple into his embrace.

“Tommy, something’s not right about this house.”

“Is that why you’re out here? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It could have been a ghost, a careful soulless thing—a soundless haunting memory with no cause for action, warping around the edges of reality. It was then a great whipping lash of winter lakes and violent snowflakes cut into the lines of your knuckles and sliced beneath your skin.

Your lips moved sometime after that, or maybe it was before; you couldn’t remember. Nothing seemed to make sense. The man in the moon wound away your surroundings one by one, like a fisherman with his catch on a hook.

“What?”

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what, Tommy?”

Silence held a knife to your neck.

“Out in the paddock..." His dark, long eyelashes brushed earnestly along his high-cut cheekbones, and you feared the thought that had seemingly paralyzed your husband from saying any more. If it weren’t already dark, a shadow might’ve passed over his features.

A fountain of words prepared to gush out, but you slipped on a puddle that appeared around your feet. You stepped back with a gasp. It wasn’t raining.

“I’m sorry, my love. I should’ve listened to you.”

The puddle kept growing. Words turned into water.

“What the fuck is happening, Tommy?"

His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek.

“I’ll avenge you. I will.”

You cried.

“Shhh, don’t be afraid, darling." Tommy kissed your ice-cold forehead.

You choked. Water: water pooled out of your mouth and suffocated your lungs. You couldn't breathe.

“Go back to bed for me, eh?”

All over your nightgown—water, water, water.

The horse trough out in the paddock, the goldfish swimming past your cheek, straw in your teeth, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, no response, no one, the weight of a hand tangling in your hair, air, air, air, no air.

Drip, drip, drip.

Water in your eyes, ears, nose, mouth—

You never saw them coming.

“I promise, love. I’ll get the bastards that…”

He choked as if he were also choking on water, water, water.

“I never saw them coming, Tommy,” you hiccupped, but it was all water, water, water—

“I know.”

Gurgling.

“I just wanted to find you.”

“I know, I know.”

They pinned your arms back.

“The fucking water trough, Tommy!”

He swallowed painfully.

You couldn’t see him anymore. His face had washed away in your straw, goldfish, blood, water, water, water, tears. Blindly, you traced under his eyes and felt his salty, grief, widowed, water tears.

There’s so much tears and sorrow there in that stable that it begins pouring from outside and through the roof. Most days it was in the paddock, but tonight it was here.

Frances, the housekeeper, watched from her window. On these types of nights, when Arrow House became entrapped in a spell and rain drizzled over the countryside, Thomas Shelby would squelch across the overgrown grass to the paddock behind the stable before disappearing. Where he went, she didn’t know. The hazy sheet of mist left much to the imagination. What he saw out there? She didn’t know either. The poor bastard probably just missed his wife.

Frances briefly left her room to peer into Mr. Shelby’s. Letting out a sigh of relief, the room appeared untouched, still frozen in the state Mrs. Shelby left it when she went out to find her husband that tragic night. The sheets were still tossed aside, the teacup still shattered on the ground, her comb still waiting on the bedside table.

Satisfied with her findings, she turned to leave when—

What’s that?

A puddle.

There must be a leak somewhere.

Oh well, she’ll see to it in the morning.

With that, she quietly crept away to her room and fell back asleep, undisturbed by the chattering shutters or creaking floorboards. Not even the ghostly cries down the hall woke her.

After all, there was no such thing as ghosts, only things that went bump in the night.

-

Taglist: @maliceofwonderland , @fairytale07 , @goblinjnr , @ilovepeoplesdads , @multidimensionalslut , @blogforficslol

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Sibling Cat Hybrids: Patricia and Pepper

Deciding to take on hybrids was something you were hesitant to do 

Besides being morally controversial for you, it was a huge hit to your spending money

But you got tired of the faux pride you got donating to hybrid-care facilities 

So instead you decide to walk into a shelter (one with good practices)

And you tell them upfront that you’re willing to open your home and heart to the ones who need you most

Crippled, rejected for looks, attitude problems

The helper lights up and then deflates before asking some leading questions

“Do you like cats?”

And that is how you are given Patricia and Pepper

This sister and brother duo are two sides of the same kind

Patricia has a luxuriously long tail and grooming routine that matches

“Are you illiterate? The signed packet told you I needed to be groomed, shampooed, and conditioned regularly.”

“Well yeah, that’s why I left everything in the bathroom.”

“Hold on! You think I’m doing this myself?! Nuh-Uh, You have so much to learn! Grab the brush and pull up a stool, now!”

Demanding as she is gorgeous Patricia is a cat girl with expensive tastes

Until that day she’ll likely swipe your credit card to buy the incredibly overpriced brand-powered shampoo 

And just curl her lip at you when you confront her

“Don’t cry, if you keep working hard I’m sure you’ll pay it off.”

For as unhelpful and arrogant as she is, her brother is an extreme opposite

“I know you showed us to those extra rooms just for us but i-if you don’t mind my stench I think I can serve you better in your room!”

“What?!”

“I’ll be happy to sleep on the floor! I promise I’ll be useful!”

Pepper’s always so eager to help and talk himself down

You’ll literally have to fight him to make sure he’s sleeping and taking care of himself instead of the home

“P–please I’ll probably eat once I finish cleaning this one last thing.”

“Probably?! No, you look like you’ve lost too much weight!”

“Nooo please!”

This dynamic will be going on for a long while 

You going to work and returning home to find either Pepper in danger needlessly risking his life 

Or Patricia throwing out all of your childhood memorabilia because she felt it was tacky

Maybe for once you shed a tear

Or you yell

Or you just completely shut down from any conversation 

In the end, you leave 

For a long time

Longer than you’d go to the store or even work

You’re just gone

“Pat I think you did it again. You scared them off!”

“I scared them off? Please I know very few people who’d be happy coming home to a corpse.”

“At least I was trying to be useful!”

“I took care of the grooming they didn’t do, that’s plenty generous.”

“Thanks to you, they’re sending us away! I really liked this one!”

“Don’t blame me, you cur! They’re leaving because you appall them!”

They argue for hours

Because they are siblings

And it helps with filling the sound of you going through your nightly routine

By the end of it, both of their hair are sticking out 

they’re pacing while nervously staring at the door

So many thoughts in their head 

The embarrassment of being sent back

The disappointment and scorn from the employees when they return

The pain they felt when you reacted the way you did

The suffocating fear of you leaving them forever

They’ve had absent owners…but they were always that way

You were there even if you sighed and scolded them, you were still there

You might’ve kept to yourself but you didn’t ignore them

At the end of the day, they still ate together with you

… They really didn’t like this

When the lock on the door clicks and the light clicking of a turn begins 

They’re leaping for the door

Capturing you in a hug you can’t escape from

“We missed you! I-I’m very sorry! I fished out and cleaned everything! Please forgive me! And please don’t just send me away! Oh and my brother too.”

“PLEASEDON’TSENDUSAWAYPLEASEDON’TPLEASEPLEASEIMIGHTBEPUSHEDTOSTRAPABOMBTOMYSELFANDBLOWINGUP—”

“Whoa whoa, I’m not sending you guys away. Also, Pepper what was that you were going to say?”

“WAAAAHHHH tHANK THAank YOu! WAHHH” 

After Pepper can breathe, you don’t mind sitting down with them to finally speak

“I’m glad you’re not sending us away. I was certain you found us annoying enough to.”

“Oh no I do find you two annoying.”

“What?! wwwwWAAHHHH!”

“But I’m not going to send you away because of that. Also, I think it’s pretty crummy that I can even do that after all the paperwork I signed.”

“WAHH! I’M ANNOYING!?”

“Yes, Pepper now shush. That’s very mature of you I also appreciate your honesty.”

 Ultimately they relax when it comes to being sent away

But they’re worried that you barely address your annoyance 

“Even my friends annoy me. It’s not that bad.”

“But it is. I–we pushed you so far…we’d like not to do this again.”

“I-I think…Pat and I just want to please you…maybe more than just what your morals allow.”

Thus a new routine has begun

One that won’t have you leaving for hours on end

“Good Evening dirt on my heels, who’s going to give me a gift big enough to buy that Prada collar I’ve been eying?”

Now Patricia streams finding a small group of people willing to fund her interests allowing her to contribute to the home 

Pepper continues to clean up the house but with new parameters

“Here (Y/n)! I took pictures of me eating all my meals today! See? Now can I get head pats?”

This works allowing them not to get on your nerves while you navigate life with your two hybrids

If they have any say in it that’ll be all you’ll be aware of

On the other side, Patricia and Pepper are taking their independence very seriously

“Pepper, did you finish your dossier on the coworker who called yesterday?”

“I did, here’s the file. I’ve already gone to the trouble of mapping out their routine; highlighting the best times depending on the method we use.”

“Good work. Now next report?”

“Yes! I found this while cuddling (Y/n) last night~ They got all giggly when I touched a specific spot with my tail.”

“...Last night where was I?”

“Dealing with the neighbor’s loud little pest.”

“Right…For equal treatment, I’ll be initiating our cuddle session tonight.’

“Hahaha…nice imagination Patty but that’s my job.”

Somehow fighting between the siblings still persist but you’d take that over the stalemate you two had before

[daethvalley-sims]

ARCANA LEGACY CHALLENGE

Hello!! I started putting this challenge together back in March when I played Persona 3 Reload and made that my entire personality for a while. I'm a master procrastinator so I didn't get much down at first other than a vague outline but I'm SOOOO glad I waited because the Lovestruck and Life & Death packs have added SO MUCH to this challenge. Really it was the release of Life & Death and the tarot theme of the pack that inspired me to come back to this and it ends the challenge so nicely. I'm obsessed.

This is a 14 generation legacy challenge with each gen representing one of the first 14 of the 22 major arcana cards, beginning with The Fool and ending your journey with Death.

Anyway... below's the rules. If you play this I'd really love to see so please tag me here or on bluesky (daethvalley.bsky.social) !!

Updates:

8/12/2024: The Fool can now get jobs to be able to complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration.

Generation 0: The Fool

Young and vulnerable, you have not yet experienced any of life’s challenges, and thus embrace all that lies ahead without fear or worry.

Your founder will begin as a Young Adult with §0 and nothing to their name besides the clothes they’re wearing and the companion at their side. Representing the start of your journey, the Fool generation will lay the foundations of hopefully a long standing and successful legacy. 

Generation Rules: 

Create a new Sim. The only limitations are that they must have the Kleptomaniac, Goofball and Cat/Dog Lover traits and the Chief of Mischief aspiration. Their gender, appearance, likes/dislikes and turn ons/offs are all up to you. If you choose to download a Sim from the gallery, they must be a blank slate with no skills, milestones, or achievements. 

Your sim must start the game with or adopt a fluffy companion - Cat or Dog is up to you (a Dog is suggested) and the corresponding Cat/Dog Lover trait. 

Move into an empty lot. The location is up to you (you’ll only spend one generation here) and once moved in, cheat your money down to §0.

There are no rules about how you make or spend money other than you must never reach higher than level 3 in a career. 

Complete the Chief of Mischief aspiration. 

Complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration. 

Purchase the Brave trait from the Rewards Store (8,000 satisfaction points)

Have at least one child (this is a legacy after all!) and have the best relationship with them. 

Marriage is optional but only after completing your aspirations. 

Swipe an object every time you leave your home lot.

Master at least one instrument.

The Fool embraces anything and everything that life throws at them. Accept all self discovery moments. 

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Goofball, Cat/Dog Lover

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief AND Renaissance Sim 

Max skills: Mischief, one instrument. 

Career: Various

Generation 1: The Magician

Raised by the Fool, you see the potential of the world laid ahead of you. You feel a spiritual calling to the Magic Realm and determination to do whatever it takes to master its sacred power. 

Generation Rules:

Leave home as a teen and move to Glimmerbrook and become a Spellcaster via completing the Rite of Ascension ritual at the magic realm. 

Drop out of high school to focus on your magical studies.

Complete the Spellcaster skill tree and become a magical Virtuoso.

Have at least one child with one of the Sages (don’t move in with them as they will lose Sage status). 

Never marry.

Embrace the power of crystals and master Gemology to manipulate your abilities and moods.

Complete both your chosen Spellcaster aspiration and Crystal Crafter.

Traits:  Childish, Creative, Self-Assured

Character values: Irresponsible

Aspiration: Spellcraft & Sorcery OR Purveyor of Potions, Crystal Crafter

Max skills: Gemology

Career: Freelance: sell your crystal creations! 

Generation 2: The High Priestess

Your parent, the Magician, achieved the greatest heights of the Magic Realm. Inheriting the intuition and knowledge of a Sage you seek enlightenment: serenity, acceptance, and a peaceful life. 

Generation Rules: 

Leave Glimmerbrook and move somewhere peaceful. 

Don’t contact your parents after you leave - they’re in another realm! 

Start afresh: Complete the Inner Peace aspiration and gain a clear perspective. 

Get married and have at least one child with any sim. 

At least one child must be born a Spellcaster, that is your heir. 

Coach and guide others to achieve enlightenment as you have by completing the Zen Guru aspiration. 

Remain a Spellcaster but never use your abilities. 

Never use any Mean or Mischief interactions.

Traits: Proper, Neat, Squeamish

Character values: Emotional Control

Aspiration: Inner Peace AND Zen Guru

Max skills: Wellness

Career: Any 

Generation 3: The Empress

You are a 3rd generation Spellcaster, not that you’ve ever had a connection to the Magic Realm. Still, your strong magical bloodline connects you to the elements and the natural world. You bring life - a large, happy family and a flourishing garden. 

Generation Rules:

Complete your childhood aspiration (you choose which!) 

Never use your Spellcaster abilities.

Move to Henford-On-Bagley and embrace the simple way of living. Your home must have the Simple Living lot trait applied.

Grow your own food, and keep farm animals for milk, eggs, and wool. 

Get married to any sim. 

Complete the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Progress through the Big Happy Family aspiration up to Loving Guardian. 

Have at least 3 children. 

Any child not born as a Spellcaster is eligible to be heir.

Traits: Family Oriented, Generous, Loves Outdoors

Character values: Compassionate

Aspiration: Freelance Botanist AND Big Happy Family (up to Loving Guardian level)

Optional university degree: Biology

Max skills: Gardening, Parenting

Career: PhD of Pollen (Gardener - Botanist branch) 

Generation 4: The Emperor

The magical abilities that ran through your family lineage have been lost. You are left with a natural born ability to lead and easily gain the respect of those around you. With strong family values instilled upon you from an early age, you respect authority, and command the same in return. A figure of strength to many, it’s up to you to solve the mystery surrounding the small desert town you moved to after joining the military. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Playtime Captain childhood aspiration. 

Complete the Leader of the Pack aspiration while in high school.

Early graduation is allowed if Leader of the Pack aspiration completed. 

Do not attend university. 

Move to Strangerville immediately after high school graduation and join the Military career. 

Fall in love with a local and get married before fighting the final boss - you never know what could happen. 

Solve the Strangerville Mystery and become a local hero! 

Have at least 2 children. 

Be a diligent parent - all children must gain the Top-Notch Infant/ Toddler traits, have a strict family dynamic, and they all must gain at least 2 positive character value traits. Any child with the Responsible trait is eligible to be heir. 

Purchase the Mentor trait from the rewards store and mentor your heir in Charisma. 

Traits: Hot Headed, Glutton, Insider

Character values: Mediator

Aspiration: Leader of the Pack AND Strangerville Mystery

Max skills: Fitness, Charisma

Career: Grand Marshal (Military - Officer branch) 

Generation 5: The Hierophant

Your parent taught you absolutely everything you’d need to know, and as a result you’ve grown into an equally diligent sim. Drawn to knowledge over strength, you studied hard and under the mentorship of your parent, became a master orator. Beloved by all, it was inevitable you’d be voted in as the National Leader. However, romance wasn’t something that interested you, and your work responsibilities left you little time for the one child you did have. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Admired Icon aspiration while in high school. 

Attend university and complete a Distinguished Degree in History. 

Join the Debate Guild at UBrite and reach Level 3.

Max Research & Debate skill before graduating university. 

Move to San Myshuno and join the Politician career. 

Work from home and complete the active work tasks at least twice per week. 

Never have woohoo or a romantic relationship.

Have one child only, either through adoption, science baby, or alien abduction. 

Have a full staff - nanny, maid, chef, gardener (if applicable). They will raise your child. 

Live in a Penthouse by the end of the generation. 

Achieve the Wise trait if played until Elder. 

Be acquaintances only with your child. 

Traits: Ambitious, Outgoing, Unflirty

Character values: Responsible

Aspiration: Admired Icon AND Friend of the World

Max skills: Charisma, Research & Debate

Career: National Leader (Politician - Politician branch) 

Generation 6: The Lovers

You lacked attention as a child, and as an adult crave affection more than anything. Where better to find it than the City of Love itself? Your rich, sheltered upbringing has left you naive and sadly you had to kiss a few frogs before you found your prince.

Generation Rules: 

Perform averagely in school.

Do not attend university.

Move to Ciudad Enamorada as a Young Adult.

Join the Barista career.

Have a toxic relationship with a bad/ awful compatibility sim. Get engaged but NOT married.

Leave your toxic ex and explore your options by completing the Paragon Partner aspiration.

Quit your job as a Barista and join the Romance Consultant career.

Meet The One and complete the Soulmate aspiration.

Have at least one child. 

Be a loving but ineffective parent - never use discipline.

Any child with the Irresponsible trait is eligible to be heir.

Traits: Lovebug, High Maintenance, Jealous

Character values: Uncontrolled Emotions

Aspiration: Paragon Partner AND Soulmate

Max skills: Romance

Career: Certified Dating Specialist (Romance Consultant - Matchmaker branch) 

Generation 7: The Chariot

Your parents loved you, but you were still left to find your own way. You were a daredevil child and carried your bravery and willpower into adulthood, determined to achieve a feat no sim had managed before. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Mind and Body aspiration as a child. 

Complete the Live Fast aspiration as a teen. 

Move to Mt Komorebi and take up Rock Climbing AND either Snowboarding or Skiing. 

Complete the Extreme Sports Enthusiast aspiration.

Lead a mountain excursion (solo or with another sim) and reach the peak of Mt Komorebi. 

Staying in Mt Komorebi after completing the excursion is optional!

Only join a career after completing the Mt Komorebi excursion. Part time jobs are ok before that. 

Marriage is optional.

Have at least one child - your heir must grow up with the Responsible and Mediator traits. 

Traits: Self Assured, Adventurous, Practice Makes Perfect

Character values: Irresponsible

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Max skills: Fitness, Rock Climbing

Career: Any (after generational goals achieved) 

Generation 8: Justice

Your parent was reckless, but you admired their tenacity and strength of mind. You grew up brilliant in the more conventional way, committed to earning the highest grades and learning everything you could. More importantly, your strong sense of right and wrong led you down the path of seeking justice. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Whiz Kid childhood aspiration.

Complete the Goal Oriented teen aspiration. 

Join the Chess Team after school activity and become Captain. 

Maintain the highest grades and study hard to ace your exams so you graduate as Valedictorian - this means NO early graduation. 

Learn skills through reading books and studying where possible. 

Attend university and complete a Distinguished Degree in History.

Complete the Academic aspiration while at university.

Tutor other students twice per week.

Write and publish research papers. 

Join the Law career - Judge branch after graduation.

Get married to your first relationship. 

Have two children with a negative relationship - one Genius (they will be heir) and one with the Outgoing trait. 

Have high expectations for your children - discipline them often and have a strict family dynamic, but always help them with homework, school projects etc. 

Adopt a dog. 

Traits: Bookworm, Overachiever, Loyal

Character values: Responsible and Mediator

Aspiration: Academic

Max skills: Logic, Research & Debate 

Career: Chief of Justice (Law - Judge Branch)

Generation 9: The Hermit

Your parents had high expectations for you and your sibling, who couldn’t be more different from you. You were a born Genius while they excelled socially, and you often felt as if you were in competition with eachother. As a teen you retreated further inside yourself and preferred the company of your family dog to spending time with other sims. You spent your time learning everything you could about computers and gaming, and eventually made a living from your bedroom. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Whiz Kid aspiration as a Child. 

Have a negative relationship with your sibling. 

Attend high school but only to study. 

Only befriend other Loner sims. 

Spend most of your time in your bedroom - you’ll need a computer in there! 

Reach level 5 of the Tech Guru career before becoming a Freelance Programmer.

Complete the Computer Whiz aspiration. 

Earn money through video gaming tournaments, hacking, and making apps & video games. 

Your relationship must be online only - never meet them in person (if you choose to have one).

Never move out of your parents house. 

Have at least one child. Be creative with how you get one, it’s still a legacy after all! 

Your parents will raise your child. 

Traits: Genius, Loner, Geek

Character values: Argumentative

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Max skills: Video Gaming, Programming

Career: Project Manager (Tech Guru)

Generation 10: Wheel of Fortune

You were raised by loving grandparents, but you felt a bit abandoned by your parent that hardly saw you. You wanted to rebel against the life your grandparents laid out for you and in the spirit of the founder of your family, the Fool, you embraced everything that came your way. With a belief in destiny and sheer good luck, you moved forward without a plan and trusted that everything would work out in your favour. 

Generation Rules: 

Anything could happen!

Have your grandparents help you get the Top Notch Infant and Top Notch Toddler traits.

As a Child, choose and complete the aspiration that best fits your randomised trait. 

As a Teen, we’ll use the https://simsrandom.com/ random legacy generator to set the rules for this generation. 

Stick to what the randomiser gives you unless you don’t have the packs, in which case you can re-roll. 

Traits must be randomised when your sim ages up, and can’t be changed. 

Age up to Young Adult with a character value that suits your path.

Select an aspiration that suits your randomised career/ hobbies. 

Reach the top of your Primary Career.

Complete the Generational Goal. If it’s something you’ve already done in this legacy (i.e. the Strangerville Mystery) you can re-roll. 

Miscellaneous Fun must be followed. 

Max 1-2 skills that align with your sim’s goals. 

Traits: Random!

Character values: Random!!

Aspiration: Random!!!

Max skills: Random!!!!

Generation 11: Strength

The legend of your great-great-great grandparent being the first sim to reach the peak of Mt Komorebi inspires you. You come from a line of masters in their field and you aspire to live up to the greatness of your ancestors in the only way you know how - you are determined to push your body to its limits and perfect your physique, and nothing else is important to you. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Rambunctious Scamp aspiration as a Child.  

Join the Football Team as a Teen and become captain. 

University is optional.

Befriend other Bros and lead a club practising physical activity.

Drink protein shakes every day! 

Complete the Bodybuilder aspiration. 

Join the Athletic career and reach level 10 in the Bodybuilder branch. 

You can have relationships but never marry. 

Have a one night stand resulting in a child and raise them as a single parent. 

Have a permissive relationship dynamic with your child. 

Traits: Active, Bro, Self-Absorbed

Character values: Insensitive

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Max skills: Fitness

Career: Mr./ Ms. Solar System (Athletic - Bodybuilder branch)

Generation 12: The Hanged Man

The idea that your family is born from magic feels like a distant dream. Your parent was so self-absorbed that they never saw the truth. Spellcasters don’t exist, not for generations anyway. Any magical connection to the earth has been long lost.  Instead of striving for greatness, can’t you just be normal? A normal life, a normal job. Of course you have aspirations - they’re just not realistic right now. 

Generation Rules: 

Maintain a B grade through Grade school and High school. 

Don’t complete your Child or Teen aspirations. 

University is optional but you can’t do a Distinguished Degree. 

Keep a Private Journal as a Teen. 

Have the Beach Life aspiration but never start it. 

Never travel outside of the world you live in. 

Join the Salaryperson career and become Head of Department (Supervisor branch).

Gain the Workaholic lifestyle. 

Write many books on your family history but never publish any. Put them in a keepsake box.

Marry a sim with Bad or Awful compatibility. 

Have at least one child. 

Fight Father Winter and ask him for proof of his powers. 

Traits: Gloomy, Noncommittal, Skeptical

Character values: Responsible

Aspiration: Beach Life (never complete this) 

Max skills: Writing, Logic 

Career: Head of Department (Salaryperson - Supervisor branch)

Generation 13: Death

There has to be more out there than your parent had you believe. You’d read their unpublished novels on your family’s legend and knew it was up to you to seek the answers and return to the magic your ancestors were born from. You left everything behind and travelled alone to the town under a permanent autumn. It was here you found your answers, and your end. 

Generation Rules: 

Complete the Artistic Prodigy aspiration as a Child. 

Don’t go to university- you’ve got better things to do. 

Move to Ravenwood as a Young Adult. 

Get involved in the community and complete all the favours for the Order of Lenore. 

Complete the Ravenwood tarot deck. 

Write a bucket list and work towards it but don’t complete it. 

Complete the Ghost Historian aspiration and befriend many ghosts. 

Never marry or have children.

Be the only sim in your household when you die (you can have pets). 

Meet an untimely end - die before you become an Elder.

Traits: Macabre, Music Lover, Chased by Death

Character values: Good Manners

Aspiration: Ghost Historian

Max skills: Writing, Thanatology

Career: Publish your history books! 

Mini Generation: Temperance

That can’t be… it? You were so young, and you were so busy searching for your answers you never did everything you wanted to do. Fourteen generations and it ends here. However, death had taken a special interest in you, and offers you the chance to address your unfinished business before you move on. 

Generation Rules: 

Attend your own funeral.

Achieve your unfinished business and complete your Soul’s Journey to earn the Burning Soul trait. 

Head to Mourningvale on the day of the Thinned Festiveil and be reborn in the Baleful Bog. 

With the knowledge of 14 generations behind you, you are reborn as The Fool, and the cycle is completed.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the night

lilac, chapter eleven

a/n: just know that my cat stayed glued to my right thigh the entire time I wrote this (even though it wasn't in one sitting, every time she'd be like a moth to a flame. I mean, not that she's not like that all of the time, she is, but it was just especially prevalent throughout this chapter. always the right thigh during this chapter...) so, yeah, I hope that feeling somehow comes across

summary: "what happened? I mean–, I know what happened, but wh-what happened?"

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, cuddling, reading

word count: 1648

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Snapping awake with a painful gasp, you shot straight up and the surprising plushness of the mattress below you dipped and bowed at the movement.

The chair that was usually placed in the corner of your room had been scooted closer to the bed and in it, watching over you like a guard dog, sat Frank. As soon as you sprang to life, so did he, rushing out of his seat and closing the distance to your panicked frame. 

Kneeling on the floor beside you, his wide hands instinctively inched closer in a comforting touch, “hey, hey, it’s alright, you’re okay,” although his caress never met your form as they stayed suspended in the air, weary that some man putting his hands on you the very second you woke up properly wasn’t what you needed. 

The initial hyperventilating breaths your lungs had sucked in began to calm as your frantic gaze trained on him and you hoarsely uttered, “Frank?”

Staring back at you, a faint smile twitched at his sombre expression as he exhaled, “yeah.”

Grounding yourself in his coffee gaze, you felt your tense frame begin to thaw as you found yourself melting into his arms, “oh, Frank…” as he enveloped you in his hold, your neck craned to rest your chin upon his broad shoulder, but as you tried to slot into that instinctive embrace, your throat pressed up against him and caused you to jerk back slightly in pain, “ow, fuck…” your brows trembly knitted together as your fingers reached up to ghost over the tender lavender bruise, “…Frank, what–…” but before you could inquire any further, you awoke entirely and recalled just why it hurt so much to speak, “oh god…” averting your gaze, you noticed the wide rectangular bandages that clung to your palms as well as your left elbow, “oh god.” 

“You’re okay,” you watched him place his hand just above one of your sore knees hidden by the duvet, his thumb swiping in a comforting caress, “doctor Díaz made a house call earlier and she said that your injuries are mostly just superficial.”

Forcing a deep breath, you let your eyes drift around the room. The sheer curtains drifted slightly in the calm wind that seeped through the cracked open window, the night sky being softened by the dancing fabric.

“What time is it?” you whispered, although that volume still managed to sting your sore throat.  

“A little past three.”

Turning to look at his kneeling figure, you hesitantly asked, “what happened? I mean–, I know what happened, but wh-what happened? I-is, Preston–”

“Nowhere near here,” he assured you, “how much do you remember?”

Taking a second to ponder, you then uttered, “everything up till you came and then I remember ringing the bell to try and get Otto’s attention,” revisiting the memories brought fresh tears to your eyes, “but not anything else after that… did he hear it? Did he come?”

“Yeah, he did. Took him into custody, but unfortunately, Nilsen didn’t have enough to do any more than put him on a 24-hour hold. So, I took care of it.”

Scarily breathing at all, you couldn’t help but fear the worst in his vague words, “…what do you mean you took care of it? Frank, what did you–… he isn’t–… is he alive?”

Sucking in a controlled breath, his jaw tensely clenched a moment before he answered, “he is… although I’d personally sleep much better at night if he wasn’t, he is. Sheriff Nilsen wasn’t able to do a lot, if anything in this situation, so I made a call to someone I know who can.”

“Who?”

“Someone at homeland who owes me a favour. She should be down here in the morning. I don’t know exactly how much she’ll be able to do, but at the very least she’ll be able to get you one hell of a restraining order, get some eyes on him to make sure he doesn’t try anything again.” 

As you didn’t say anything, simply stared down at your striped duvet, completely stunned, his voice quietly filled the room once more.

“I–…” uncertainty tainted his tone as he tried to read your expression, “it’s your choice what you wanna do. Whatever you want, if you want me by your side, I’ll be there. I just wanted to do something, try and respect your wishes, and if I did the wrong fucking thing, then I’m sorry, but that asshole fuckin–”

“Thank you,” your whisper cut off his desperate words. Eyes fluttering up to meet his, your hand found the top of his, softening it as his gruff knuckles had turned white from how he was clenching the blanket, “I–… I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

With a soft shake of his head, Frank uttered, “you don’t have to thank me, really.”

Wobbly bottom lip and tears welling up in your weary eyes once more, you leaned forward and buried your head in his chest, his palms swiftly finding your back in soothing patterns as you trembled, letting it all unravel just a tad at the newfound relief.

Soft sobbing swiftly turned into weeping, and as more and more of your tears stained the cotton of his shirt, you heard yourself muttering wistfully, “I can’t believe you’re here…” 

“I am,” his hand gently ran up and down your trembling spine, “is that alright?”

Nodding against his chest, you thought back as you cried, “you came. You found me just in time.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he let out a low sigh, “as long as you’ll want me to, I’ll always find you.”

It seemed an impossible task to fall back asleep and face the potential nightmares that would no doubt plague you, so instead, to make the dark night gently pass, you found yourself curled against Frank’s chest as he had joined you against the headboard. One of his hands permanently clasped in yours, the other held up a nostalgic book from your childhood, rediscovered upon the shelf in the corner that still carried all of the old tales that you were brought up on.

Laying there, tangled together, your gaze rested on the view of the slowly rising sun outside as you listened to Frank’s quiet reciting. But as your vision soon shifted and glided across the ceiling, a thought suddenly struck you.

“Y/n?” Frank gently cut through your haze after a few moments of silence, waiting for you to turn the page as you had done for him since you took one of his hands captive. 

“Sorry,” you softly shook your head, blushing slightly as you shared, “it just occurred to me that you’ve never been in my room before now…” 

“That’s true,” he murmured softly.

“It just feels a little weird…” your gaze flickered to the worn teddy bear that now simply decorating the top of your dresser, “like you can see into my brain…”

Breathing out a smile, he lowered the open book to be even closer to your reach, “you mind turning the page?”

Mirroring his content expressions, you reached up to flip over to the next part of the story, but just as you did, a gentle knock echoed at your door.

“Just a second!” you called, winching slightly as the higher volume stung like sandpaper scraping out of your throat. Letting Frank’s hand go, you scooted back a bit as you separated, waiting till he was situated back in the armchair before you said, “come in.”

Creaking open the door, you watched as your father gingerly stepped inside, his gaze locked upon the steaming tray balanced in his hands. 

“Alright, potato leek soup and ginger tea with honey,” he sat it down on your bedside table, “careful it’s hot.”

Sucking in a deep breath as the aromatics began to fill the room, you looked up at him and offered an exhausted smile, “thanks, dad.”

Sighing lowly, you could tell he was trying to stay stoic as his empathetic gaze washed over you, his head lightly cocking to his side as he asked, “are you okay, pumpkin? Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you have enough pillows?”

“Yeah, I have enough pillows,” a slight chuckle managed to roll off your tongue, “although now that you mention it,” you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “I was actually thinking about lying low for a little while, just until all the bruises and stuff aren’t as noticeable anymore. I just don’t think I can deal with all of the questions and comments right now.”

“Well,” the moustachioed man’s eyes narrowed in thought, “there aren’t any guests staying on the entirety of the second floor, so if you want to, you can just bunk out up there. We could set up a sign in the stairwell or something saying that there is construction going on, which wouldn’t be a lie, but nevertheless, would ensure that no one bothers you.”

“Oh, I-I could,” your eyes flicked to Frank’s for a moment in hopes it would grant you the strength needed to share, “but I was actually planning on going to stay at Pete’s for a little while. You know, his cabin is so secluded and–“

“Oh, right, of course,” your father chuckled, giving his noggin a light tap as if that should have somehow been his first guess, “sorry, I guess I just didn’t wanna assume that after all of that, you wanted to go hang out with your guy, if anyone–”

“My what?” you chuckled, eyes growing wide, though the dumbfounded laugh faded as you took in the nonchalant expression plastered upon your dad’s face, “wait…” your brows knit together, “you know?”

“What?” the weathered man simply stood there, nearly resembling a child as he shrugged, “was it supposed to be a secret?”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[mtchee]

[IMAGINE] Living with Cat! Nanami | GN

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, cat! jjk au, non sorcerer au, cat nanamin, kitty kento, fluff

[1.6k]

| masterlist | jujutsu kaisen collection |

Imagine living with cat! Nanami Kento, who you officially adopted from your cafe manager who was moving abroad and couldn't take proper care of him anymore.

He's an elegant feline; short blond fur and gorgeous whiskey irises. He's quite tall when you stretch him out, and you can see lithe muscles outlined on his shoulders when he walks. He adorns a unique collar, being in the form of a navy button shirt collar cut off with an appropriately cat-sized leopard print necktie. You've had his name iron pressed onto the back of the tie, alongside your initials and phone number in case he ever gets lost.

Nanami is evidently a very strong cat--you've witnessed him battle off a doberman when you were helping your manager move her boxes to the front of her apartment complex when the dog ran at you.

There was an off leash park around the corner of the block, and it must've escaped, telling by the alarmed shouts for the canine to yield from afar.

You had shrieked and turned your back defensively to the snapping jaws of the dog, only for a familiar blond feline to leap to your defence.

Not a single hiss escaped him while he swiped at the attacking animal, though a warning growl rumbled in his throat when the dog tried biting at him again.

By the time the owner reached your shaken form, the doberman had its ears pinned and was hunched submissively in fear under the stern eye of cat! Nanami.

Imagine living with cat! Nanami Kento who, despite his obvious strength, is very pliant with you.

He's very quiet, and a very mature cat despite his youth. He doesn't play much, though it seems he'll indulge you every once in a while when you sway a colourful feathered tassle over his head.

Your manager had informed you he doesn't like much physical contact. Aside from the occasional pet, he didn't let her near. So imagine your silent confusion when he brushes up against your calf one morning in greeting before jumping up onto his favourite spot in the window sill to sunbathe.

And then again a gentle nudge of his head in thanks when you serve him his food for breakfast.

You've been hesitant to touch him, having been warned about his aversion to physical affection, and unsure of his temperment.

Safe to say you were shocked when he curled up next to you on the couch while you had a book in your lap, settling himself so he was pressed comfortably against your thigh. You had froze and refused to move an inch in fear of disturbing him.

Imagine living with cat! Nanami Kento, who is much more tolerant of you than others. Nanami is a patient feline.

He senses someone at the door and alerts you with a sounding "meow" before they can even knock.

When you have company over, he usually sits himself in the same room as you and lounges around adjecent to where you are. He likes to keep an eye on things, you've noticed. When you have more rowdy company over, like your little cousins and such, he does tend to hide himself away, or at least keep himself poised where they can't reach.

He doesn't allow strangers to pet him, and he doesn't quite care for getting to know other humans. If any friends of yours drop around regularly, the most they'll get out of him is a brief pet or two while he saunters away from the door and back to his watching spot.

With you, however, he allows himself to melt in your affection. Where with others he is stiff and indifferent, with you he purrs lowly while slumping, forcing you to accommodate your hold on a liquidised cat.

He pretends he doesn't care for your touch, staring through you with hardened features. But the way he lets you pick him up and cuddle him says otherwise.

Imagine just how protective cat! Nanami is over you.

Oddly enough, he likes to accompany you when you drag yourself out of your room for a walk outside. The first few times he tried to follow you out though, you thought he was just seeing you off at the door.

He had looked very disgruntled when you ushered him back inside, and he had stared you down through the window when you walked passed again. When you returned, he hadn't moved an inch.

He walks by your side on the footpath, occasionally leaping onto window sills and benches when the path gets a bit too crowded.

He'd glower at anyone that would shoulder check you, and he'd spook off any animals that posed any sort of danger to you in their approach.

Imagine cat! Nanami giving you a concerned meow whenever you injure yourself. Whether you stub your toe on the corner of your bed, bump your calf into the sharp corner of the coffee table, or hit your head on the bathroom cabinet door--you'll hear him soon after, as though asking, "are you alright?"

If it really affects you, and you're slouched onto the ground rubbing your head with pursed lips, he'll give you a once over, even jumping up on the counter or leaning on your shoulder to get a good look at where you got hurt.

You can feel his little nose puffing air onto your head as he inspects you, and he might give you reassuring lick depending on if he sees any buising or whatnot.

Imagine how cat! Nanami reminds you to take your daily meds and/or vitamins if you need them. He keeps you on a strict schedule, and he gets grumpy if you ignore him and put it off.

Imagine cat! Nanami consoling you when you're stressed. Whether it be from work, or school--when you're sitting on the couch and staring blankly into the wall, or crying into your hands, curled up on your bed, he'll approach you with tentative steps, and trill softly to announce his presence.

Sometimes you might ignore him, either having not heard or just not able to pull yourself together enough to acknowledge him, and sometimes you reach out and pull him into a tight hug.

Whichever happens, usually he'll prod over to you and observe how you're feeling before giving you a nudge with his wet nose. After getting your attention, he'll willingly place himself in your space, purring softly. His presence is quiet, but comforting and unwavering. There, he'll stay with you until you feel ready to pick yourself back up again.

Imagine living with cat! Nanami Kento, the purrfect gentleman.

If you happen to be changing in the room, he turns away respectfully--which you found odd for a cat, but sweet nonetheless.

If you ever ponder aloud something that you've misplaced, more often than not he'll appear soon after with said item, otherwise he'll patiently call for your attention and lead you to it.

Whenever you do go on walks, if you stop for a break he'll often wander off (though never too far) and return with a few flowers in his maw. He'll place them in your lap or in your hands when you bend down to retrieve them, and he looks awfully accomplished when you coo at him in thanks.

Imagine going back and forth with cat! Nanami when he scolds you one day on your sodium intake. He can't really scold you, but the way he stares at you and grumbles says otherwise.

He'd taken to raiding your pantry and hiding all of your instant ramen so you actually have to make yourself dinner.

When you pick up your phone to order takeout, you shout when he suddenly knocks it out of your hand and takes off with it. He's gone before you can even blink, and by the time you chase him through your home and catch him, he's already got it hidden.

And while you berate him for his antics, you can't help but feel a little more frustrated at the subtly smug look in his kitty eyes.

Imagine living with cat! Nanami Kento, and annoying him to your hearts content. While he relaxes on the backrest of the couch, you'll sneak up and pull him into your chest, nuzzling your face into his fur aggressively.

When you're doing your skincare routine, you like to keep him on the tip of his kitty paws by flicking water at him while he sits patiently by the sink. You snicker when he stills, his eyes slipped shut while his tail jerks to the side in irritation.

During the day when you're particularly bored, you'll walk past him while he's perched comfortably in his favourite spot to sunbathe and flip his tie over his head. You'll skitter away with a laugh while he deadpans and growls an empty threat.

At night, when you just can't fall asleep and cat! Nanami slumbers beside you peacefully, you decide to pin down his tail with the weight of your hand. He remains unperturbed, but when you lift your hand he flicks the appendage away swiftly. You giggle, and do it again.

By the forth time, he gets up, thoroughly roused from his once peaceful sleep, and retaliates by laying himself across your face like an eye mask.

He'll indulge in a little play fight with you, batting away your hands with his claws sheathed, sometimes forcing the breath out of you by rolling down onto your chest, to tire you out.

Then, having been entertained, you hum with a dreamy sigh, shifting to lay on your side and getting comfy under the covers while cat! Nanami lets you guide him to cosy up by your chest, cuddling him like a teddy bear.

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ CONSCIENCES EDGE (randy orton x fem!reader, ft. edge)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: randy orton x fem! reader, brief edge x fem!reader (just flirting)

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

hi! can i request randy orton x fem!reader when they are dating and in a tag team match but against each other. and randy’s opponent keeps flirting with (y/n) in front of him to gets him mad. please :)

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: possessive!randy, slightly suggestive, edge being a taunt

ೃ༄ WORD COUNT: 1.4k

ೃ༄ NOTE: anon i really hope this is at least somewhat what you wanted because i had SO much fun with this request eek (as you can tell by how fast i wrote it). pls excuse the self indulgence that is: me adding adam as y/n’s partner but truthfully i would love to be in a sandwich between randy and adam so it just felt right (title pun is 110% intended)

the wwe universe knew two things for certain about randy orton:

1. he was an absolute monster in the ring.

2. he adored you.

when the two of you first debuted your relationship, he made the latter very clear, never missing an opportunity to have his hands on you — whether this be on your waist, his fingers in yours, or the possessive hold when he stood with his fingers dancing over your ass. randy orton did not share his women, and you were no exception.

so when the storyline called for you to turn on him, the wwe universe went up in flames. whilst some were undoubtedly unsure on how said story would unfold, most were exhilarated by how you came out night after night to sabotage the man you once loved front stage and centre. you were one of the greatest heels most fans had seen, and despite your villainous position, they loved you all the more for it.

of course, they never knew what went on backstage. how after you taunted the man in the ring, you’d fall straight back into his arms in a hotel bed that you wouldn’t leave until the morning.

it was when the story called for teaming up that people really lost their minds. a series of backstage segments that followed randy as he sought out someone to finally take you down. he settled on none other than than trish stratus in all of her powerful glory — your current competitor for the title, and that was when all hell broke loose. in a title match against trish, just as you began readying up for your finisher, randy ran in to prevent trish from losing her title, and solidifying themselves as the team which you would go up against.

then it was your turn to shine, a setup for how you’d end up here. trish and randy had promised a battle, and you were going to give them one in what the crowd believed would be a handicap match. you, and the writers, had other plans.

all three of you had taken the stage, ready to fight it out for the greatest prize of all, bragging rights, when the lights went dark once more. a known, and feared you think you know me? echoing through the dark arena. the crowd could clearly see randy’s face, the expression of shock as his former tag team partner turned enemy entered the arena and came to stand by your side — then the stage was set.

unbeknownst to your competitors, you and edge had an agreement. you’d follow the choreography, stick to the plan, except it was always fun to rile your out of ring boyfriend up, and who better to take the lead than the rated r superstar himself?

as the match started, you and trish taking first turn, you wasted no time in flooring trish, watching as she sold it to the crowd whilst you waltzed back to where edge stood at ring side. he didn’t touch you to avoid tagging himself in, but his intent was evident as he leant over the top rope, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip.

“i’d let you do that to me any day, sweetheart.”

from the other side of the ring, over the roar of the crowd you could hear the faint growl of your boyfriend, followed by movement as he stalked closer to observe the interaction.

trish recovered quickly, and the two of you returned to going back and forth for several minutes until she unleashed her cat fight move on you, and it was your turn to sell. if you glanced behind you from where you lay on the floor, you could see the watchful eyes of randy darting between your pained position on the floor, and your tag partner who was positioned in a crouch, undoubtedly showing randy he was staring at your ass.

when you dragged yourself to the side, eye to eye with a curled over edge, you were hyper aware of how randy watched intensely.

edge grinned, a knowing look in his eye as he made sure randy heard every word. “you look good when you’re all worked up.”

you smirked, unable to hide your own amusement at the snarl you heard from your right, before outstretching your hand to allow edge to tag himself in.

carefully, you rolled under the bottom rope, trish doing the same. but before your feet had even landed on the floor, randy had dragged edge into the ring and delivered a harder than necessary back elbow to the man’s chest. you winced for the sake of the show, but couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled seeing your boyfriend so agitated over you.

once again; randy orton did not share his women, and this was no different.

the two men put on a good show, wrestling back and forth with a series of high rope moves from both that most wrestlers wouldn’t dare perform. as scripted, edge managed to get randy with a spear before the latter kicked out of an undeniably dirty pin, but it just gave the man the perfect opportunity.

he tagged you in slyly, reaching for your hand but instead making sure he bypassed at the last second and made the contact via running his hand down the side of your waist and to your ass. the crowd roared as you and trish took your places again, but the look on randy’s face as he was pushed out of the ring by his own partner was immortalised in your brain forever.

it was a look that said everything: you’re mine.

when the battle began again, you were hyper aware of the weakened shouts from an (acting) injured edge, showering you with compliments that had you pretending to preen until suddenly they all stopped. you glanced to your side to see the cause of the silence, being greeted by the unplanned side of randy having edge pressed against the ropes, hands on the man’s shoulders until edge was forced to flip back into the ring.

the commotion was enough to distract you so that trish could execute a clothes line, knocking you to the ground as she tagged randy back in to continue whatever shallow beat out he was doing on your partner.

edge was well and truly down by now, and you made your attempt to exit the ring and let him fend for himself when a firm hand wrapped around your wrist.

instead of being met by your partners tag, you were pulled into the strong chest of randy himself, the man wasting no time before crashing your lips together. unplanned, but welcomed, you couldn’t help but kiss back just as forcefully, not caring that the cameras were catching every moment of the heated make out session right in the middle of the ring.

one of randy’s hands slipped down to exactly where edge’s had been, giving your ass a firm squeeze to elicit a gasp that let him deepen the kiss. it was filthy, and borderline offensive to the tv rules, but when randy pulled back and you saw the fire in his eyes, you were about ready to jump him right there.

one last bite to your shoulder and randy was moving again, stalking towards where edge lay writhing near the corner of the ring. he moved him just enough to pin him without a rope break, and when edge was unable to kick out, randy and trish solidified their dinner status. but, instead of moving to celebrate with his partner, randy walked straight back to your side.

his lips were back on yours again, this time pulling your teeth between his bottom lip in a show that would surely have you pulled into the office post match. you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not as one of his hands gripped at your waist, the other holding your head by the back of the neck so you couldn’t escape the kiss even if you wanted to.

not that you wanted to.

when he finally broke away, eyes ablaze as the crowd lost their minds, you could see the redness in his face from the possessiveness.

he looked like he wanted to eat you alive, and you welcomed every thought of it.

“you’re mine.” he punctuated his words with a kiss to the side of your mouth, open mouthed and dirty as could be. “only mine.”

“i know.” you whispered, enjoying the sensation of randy’s lips travelling down your neck. he didn’t care for rules in that moment as he latched his lips to the crook of your neck, a gasp leaving your own mouth before you could stop it. you raised a weak hand to the back of his neck as your knees buckled under the very public attention “only yours.”

3. above every woman in the world, randy orton had never, and would never share you.

details on how to request on my page

[myloveobbsessed]

ᗪ乇爪ㄖ刀 丂ㄥ卂丫乇尺 匚卂ㄒ丂

———••———————••———————••———

Genre: fluff

Warnings: slight assault in Akaza’s (though nothing really happens)

Characters: Muzan, Douma, Kokushibo, and Akaza

Notes: none

———••———————••———————••———

Part 3, 2, 1

———••———————••———————••———

Muzan is a…

Bombay: Late at night, you walked into the kitchen, craving a glass of water. After pouring yourself a drink, you took a sip, but nearly dropped the glass when you saw glowing eyes staring back at you from outside the sliding door. Your heart skipped a beat as you froze, eyes locked with the intense, unblinking gaze of the cat.

With a sigh, you turned on the patio light, Muzan’s piercing eyes never left yours, as he stood at the door, almost as if demanding to be let in. You both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither of you moving. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you walked over and opened the door.

Muzan strode inside, his steps confident and controlled, like he’d lived there all along.

——••————••——

Kokushibo is a…

Korat: You walked into the animal shelter, fully aware that you didn’t need another cat, but the allure of their cuteness was hard to resist. As you browsed the various cats, you inquired at the front counter about any cats scheduled for euthanasia. They brought one out for you to meet.

Kokushibo stared back at you, and the two of you shared a brief staring contest. A smile crept onto your face as you reached out to pet his head. He allowed the touch but made no move to lean into it. The staff member mentioned he was a quiet one, not very active, but you felt a connection and happily decided to take him home.

——••————••——

Douma is a…

Syphnx: He followed you home (sry don't really have one for him)

——••————••——

Akaza is a…

Japanese Bobtail: While on a late-night walk, a man approached you, initially friendly but quickly growing hostile when you showed no interest. His anger escalated, and just as he was about to grab you, a blur of motion shot past your face, followed by a scream. You looked down to see a fierce cat standing protectively in front of you, hissing and swiping at the man. The cat lunged at him again, scratching his face until the man fled in fear.

Relieved, you crouched down and gently pet the cat, who accepted your touch, calming down after defending you. Grateful for his bravery, you decided to take Akaza home with you.

———••———————••———————••———

I wanted to share some art that inspired me to write these (this art isn't mine I got it from pinterst)

[jasmine-the-fox]

Was just a mask

Okay guys! another fic request from A29Z10 here for you guessed it VALENTINE'S DAY!! I hope you all enjoy it!!

Adrien Agreste was many things… but perfect was the main thing people believed about him… not knowing that it was all an act… a mask to be exact. Adrien was actually a psychopath… just like his father Gabriel. This was something that Emilie greatly feared and when Adrien began to be like his father…

She quickly used the peacock miraculous to purposefully harm herself to escape Gabriel and Adrien. This resulted in Gabriel determined in a psychotic way to get her back, as a result he became Hawkmoth and created akuma’s to help him get the ladybug and black cat miraculous for him so he can use the wish to bring back his wife.

Growing up, Adrien had caused a lot of problems by manipulating others and hurting some… but he was never punished as he got it all pinned on his first friend Chloe Bourgeois. At some point she thought about leaving Adrien… but due to her belief that he was her only friend she didn’t and stayed with him which caused her to blamed for everything he did.

Gabriel wanted to help Adrien work on a way to hide the truth better so he made him into a model so he could learn, as a result he was able to hide the truth from many… except from his aunt Amélie and his cousin Felix who knew the truth thanks to Emilie. Sadly, Felix wasn’t able to prove who Adrien really was since every time he would confront Adrien… it ended with Felix claimed as the bad guy.

Now years have gone by, Marinette is Ladybug the hero of Paris who is trying with the help of her partner Cat Noir… defeat Hawkmoth and stop him from akumatizing people. Sadly, things weren’t easy for her, both as Marinette and Ladybug… she was alone all because of Lila, Adrien and Cat Noir who worked hard to tear her away from her loved ones and now with-it being Valentine’s Day… she was alone.

She didn’t even understand why this was all happening to her “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” she looked up to find Felix who held his phone in hand “You need to see this” he said before handing her his phone with a video open for her to watch… it greatly confused her but… she didn’t have anything else to do and from the look of it… he wanted her to know something important.

So… Marinette played the video… and uncovered Adrien’s true colors…

She was horrified as she watched Adrien harm people and then pin all of the blame onto Chloe to make him look innocent “And he’s been doing this for years?” she asked making Felix nod “It’s why my aunt vanished… Adrien got this from uncle and she couldn’t take it” he said making her eyes widen.

He then swiped on the screen and played her another video… one where she discovers that Adrien has been helping Lila to keep Mari alone… so he could be with her… if Ladybug rejects him again “Adrien is Cat Noir?” Mari asked making Felix nod “Turns out he told Lila and she agreed to keep his secret if he helped her with you… but he turned it around and made it he would help her keep you alone in exchange of him not revealing her as a liar” he explained making her nod before she slowly began to make her way back home to be in her bed and think over everything that she was now told.

As she walks into her room, she is surprised to find Chloe and Luka there “She was trying to gain the courage to come in and I helped her do so” Luka explained making her nod and look at Chloe. She looked nervous but at the same time determined to say something to Marinette “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for what I did to you” she explained this of course surprised Marinette considering who Chloe really… but then she remembers the video Felix showed her of when Adrien was younger.

It made her as a result not keep her guard up towards Chloe “Chloe and I spoke and have decided to work together to stop Adrien and Lila” Luka explained which surprised Mari “But how? Adrien is rich and Lila is a liar who can manipulate anyone she wants” she explained making Chloe grin “I’m rich too though” she said before she and Luka left the room to head out.

For the next couple of days, Chloe and Luka work together to collect evidence against Lila and Adrien. It took them a while but soon they had enough to take them down once for all… and to show that Lila is really a liar while Adrien isn’t the guy they thought he was from the start.

They slowly worked on a plan to reveal them and decided to make it happen at a fake Valentine’s Day ball where everyone can watch as they are revealed for who they really are in the end. Marinette designed the invites for the ball while Luka spread them around leaving Chloe and Felix to make sure everything was ready for the ball and their plan to destroy the Agreste’s and Lila once and for all “I just hope they leave me alone after this… I can’t take anymore of it” Marinette said as she worked on her dress for the ball.

Chloe had sent her all the materials she would need to design her own dress and promised her anything else she could need if needed… but that didn’t make her not worry that the plan backfires on them “Don’t worry Marinette! I’m sure everything will be fine in the end” Tikki said while eating her cookies.

Her words helped soothed some of Mari’s nerves… but not all of them but still enough that she was able to finish her dress for the ball “Now all there is left to do is wait for the big day” she said simply and moved away to relax and do something else to keep herself busy for now. Felix would sometimes come and visit to see how she was doing and that was what happened that day… however, Mari fell asleep so Tikki watched as Felix came in and spotted the dress.

He walked around it, examined it, touched it, checked the materials used to make it, added a few touches in her notes for her to look at when she wakes up, prepared the materials in case she wanted to add his ideas… and placed a box down by her sketchbook before walking over to Marinette, moving her hair away from her face, tucked her under a blanket and then left her room.

When she woke up confused Tikki quickly explained what happened so she moved to see the notes Felix wrote for her “These are amazing” she whispered and quickly moved to add what he wrote with a smile on her face while Tikki watched over her holder with a giggle… it was clear that Felix had fallen for her hard and he was determined to keep her close to him in anyway he could have her. Once Mari was done, she picked up the box and found a lovely choker with a heart shaped ruby… it was small of course but gorgeous to her.

It was going to look gorgeous with the dress when she puts them on together…

Soon… the night of the ball came. Mari was nervous but Felix was by her side as he was her date to the ball “Chloe and Luka are waiting by the entrance of the ball” he said making her nod in understanding… but she was still nervous about the whole thing.

Anything could happen and cause them to be seen as the bad guys in the whole thing and the last thing she wanted was for that to ruin her life and make her need to leave Paris forever in the end because someone wanted to hide who they really were. Mari took a deep breath as the car stopped, Felix let her do so and after a while moved to open the door and help her out to get inside for the ball “Everything will be fine… I promise” he whispers and Mari smiles in relief to his words… and then her eyes land on the new ring he was wearing.

Not knowing that it was the black cat miraculous… that he took from Adrien the first chance he had…

He hated that his cousin was Ladybug’s partner… and he didn’t want her to have him for much longer. As a result, he went to see his cousin one day as he was rushing around to get ready for a photo shoot. It hadn’t been hard at all to slip of the miraculous from Adrien and slip him a fake… Adrien clearly hasn’t noticed and thinks Plagg gave him the silent treatment or something “He probably won’t notice until the next akuma comes and a new black cat appears” Plagg told him once he slipped on the miraculous.

It was really obvious how blind Adrien was to his personal desires at the moment… Felix really hoped this plan works because he really was just done with all of this. He guided Mari inside where Luka and Chloe waited “The trio is inside too… ready when you are” Luka said while looking at Felix.

He looked at Chloe and nodded making her pull out her phone “Play it now” she said and seconds later the video of little Adrien began to play and reveal who he really is, people were shocked at it and became disgusted when they uncovered that he was like this because of Gabriel… but they all became horrified when Lila was revealed… and the fact Adrien is Cat Noir.

She tried to play it off… to spin another lie but everyone was done with her and Adrien and demanded answers. All of a sudden, Adrien and Lila were akumatized into Lovers who had the power to make anyone love and follow them. Mari quickly ducked out and transformed into Ladybug while Felix hid to transform into… Shadow. He quickly went to help Ladybug… resulting in Adrien and Lila getting quickly defeated… and Hawkmoth getting captured as he was at the ball too.

He detransformed and was revealed to being Gabriel. Ladybug took his miraculous before he with Lila and Adrien were taken away. The ball then ended making everyone leave “You three can come stay in my hotel room… I mean were at the hotel” Chloe said making the three agree and went up with Chloe to her room where they relaxed and slept.

The next day, Ladybug and Shadow went to the Agreste manor and grabbed the grimoire and peacock miraculous that Gabriel had just been able to repair. They used it to heal Nathalie and bring back Emilie who not only reported Gabriel and Adrien… but confessed to everything she knew about the miraculous… and how she used a damaged miraculous on purpose to escape her psychotic husband and son at long last.

As a result… Gabriel was in jail and Adrien was sent to a psych ward while Lila was deported back to Italy for good. Paris was now safe but Ladybug and Shadow continued to patrol Paris to help where they can together. Marinette now being freed from Lila’s lies… sued the school and her classmates for everything they had put her through because of Lila.

Chloe helped by paying for the lawyer and she showed no mercy… Damocles and Caline were charged for their crimes against Marinette and her classmates all suffered for their actions… they all tried to pin it on Lila but the judge only said one thing “She never told you to do any of those things! You decided to do it on your own! She may have given you the match… but you chose to light it” he said to them explaining that Lila never made them do anything… they decided to do it.

This as a result… cost them their dreams. Reporter, director, actress, famous artist, Olympic swimmer, professional rollerblader, singer, model and many more dreams were shattered all because of their choices. Alya thought… had it worst. She was known as Lila’s best friend and so she suffered even more than the rest of the class… she couldn’t even attend college because of her actions in the end.

So, when three years passed and she watches on the news that Felix proposed to Marinette while Luka proposed to Chloe on Valentine’s Day… Alya Cesaire then understood that she had directed her anger on the wrong person… it was never Marinette who was to blame for her fate or Lila’s…

It had always been her fault… it was the classes fault from the start… like the judge said… Lila gave them the match… but they all lighted it themselves…

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Embers Touch

Azriel x Eris fluff

word count: ~900

Summary: Azriel finds a little shadow on his way home from a mission. He surprises Eris with his new friend.

The wind whispered through the trees, the deep shadows of the night curling around Azriel as he made his way through the dense forest. He’d been tracking a Naga in the Autumn Court for days now, and though his mission was complete, something strange stirred in the air tonight.

A new scent—faint but unmistakable—tickled his senses. It wasn’t the usual forest musk or the scent of his enemies. It was something smaller, something softer.

Azriel's shadows twitched, sensing something ahead, and without a second thought, he followed their silent guidance.

As he moved deeper into the woods, he found it:

a tiny, black kitten huddled under a large, moss-covered rock.

Her fur was matted and her ribs visible through her thin coat. Her amber eyes blinked up at him, wary but curious, her small frame trembling from both the cold and fear.

Azriel’s heart softened. He could feel the kitten's pain in his chest—an echo of his own loneliness that had grown over the years. She was alone, like he had been. And like he had learned to do, she was surviving.

Without hesitation, Azriel crouched down to the kitten’s level, his shadows creeping gently around her.

The little creature, at first, recoiled, but soon her instinct to play overcame her caution.

She batted at the shadows, her tiny paws swiping with a soft mewl of delight. Azriel smiled for the first time in days, his heart lightened by the kitten’s innocence and energy.

“Come here, little one,” Azriel whispered, holding out his hand.

The kitten sniffed his rough fingers cautiously before nuzzling into his palm.

He scooped her up gently, feeling the warmth of her small body. Her fur was soft, though she smelled faintly of the wild and earth.

The shadows wrapped around her protectively, ensuring she felt safe, and he began to walk back towards the manor.

As he made his way home, the kitten curled up against his chest, purring softly, her small body vibrating with contentment.

Azriel’s mind was already turning, wondering how Eris would react to this new, unexpected companion.

The manor was quiet when Azriel arrived.

The air inside felt warmer, filled with the scent of hearth and home.

Eris was seated by the fire, his sharp eyes burning as he observed Azriel. But there was something in his posture, a slight tension in his shoulders.

He had sensed Azriel’s return, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“What is it?” Eris’s voice was low, cautious.

Azriel walked into the room, the kitten still nestled in his arms, her eyes wide and alert as she took in the new surroundings.

“She’s hurt,” Azriel explained softly. “But she’s resilient. I found her in the woods.”

He lowered his arms to let the kitten down onto the plush carpet. The moment her paws touched the ground, she darted forward, her tail flicking excitedly as she sniffed around.

Eris’s gaze flickered from the kitten to Azriel, his expression unreadable. He sat up straighter, the usual hardness in his eyes sharpening as he looked at the tiny black creature.

“A cat?” he asked, his tone almost skeptical.

Azriel moved closer, his voice almost pleading. “She’s small, Eris. She needs us.”

Eris crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “And you think we need a cat? What if the hounds—”

“I’ll keep her safe,” Azriel interrupted, meeting Eris’s eyes with a steady, unspoken promise.

The shadows around them fluttered at the silent exchange.

The kitten, oblivious to the tension, pounced on one of Azriel’s shadows as it slinked across the floor, her tiny claws swiping playfully at the dark tendrils. Eris’s lips twitched, just slightly, as he watched the kitten’s antics.

“I don’t know about this, Azriel…” Eris murmured, but his voice softened, just enough to betray the crack in his armor.

Azriel took a step closer, lowering his voice to a gentle whisper.

“You’re the one who taught me how to embrace what I never expected to need.”

His gaze flickered down to the kitten, now happily purring as she bounded toward Eris, her small body weaving between his legs in a show of innocence and joy.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone, Eris. But she’s here now.”

The tiny cat looked up at Eris with wide, pleading eyes, her gaze melting any remaining reservations. She took a hesitant step forward, her tail twitching. Then, as if to seal the deal, she let out the tiniest, most adorable mew—a sound so pure and soft it tugged at Eris’s heart.

Eris let out a quiet, resigned sigh.

“What’s her name, then?”

Azriel smiled, kneeling down to scoop the kitten into his arms once more.

“Ember,” he said, the name soft on his tongue.

Eris hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the tiny creature that was now curled up in Azriel’s arms. He glanced at Azriel, meeting his mate’s eyes with a silent understanding, and finally, something shifted.

“Ember,” Eris repeated, the faintest trace of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Well, I suppose we can keep her... for now.”

Azriel’s heart swelled, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Ember’s tiny head before looking back at Eris with gratitude and affection.

Ember gave a soft meow in acknowledgment.

And in that moment, the small, unexpected addition to their lives filled the space between them with warmth.

That night, after the healer had visited, the fire crackled outside. Azriel and Eris sat side by side, watching Ember chase shadows across the grass.

"We should introduce her to the hounds at some point." Eris wispered against Azriel's neck.

"We'll worry about that tomorrow, my love. She's happy." Smiling against his mates hair, Azriel felt something he hadn’t in centuries:

peace.

I've been deadful at posting my drafts these past couple months. I hope you enjoy this light fluffy Azris story! 🖤

@chunkypossum @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ysmtttty @nessiandefenseattorney @nocasdatsgay @secret-third-thing @azysmate @yennas-stuff @a-courtof-azriel @batboyrhyrhy @lilah-asteria @velarisnightsky444 @christeareads @thestarlightexpress @viktoriaashleyyx @invaderdreyar

[sinfulsalutations]

the bad batch irl headcanons: brainrot edition.

hunter

watches the boys, breaking bad, and basically anything with jk simmons in it

his top artist on his spotify wrapped was lana del rey and has been lana for 3 years straight

listens to self help audiobooks and true crime podcasts

stopped posting on tiktok because 30 year old moms kept commenting weird freaky shit

makes capcut template edits of himself

snap score is in the millions; his parents were confused on the questionnaire and instead ordered a thot son

tech

listens to playboi carti, earl sweatshirt, and ken carson. below them is classical music

never beats the “erm, actually” allegations. his friends turned him into a nerd sticker to use in conversations

reddit WARRIOR. his karma score is in the millions. he posts, no matter what, every two hours (schedules the posts if needed to). most active in the subreddits r/techtips and r/javascript

obeys the traffic laws in gta but if a pedestrian says some shit like “hey watch where you’re going asshole” he is CLOCKING that mfer

plays swipe games on tiktok religiously and will change his answers to fit better with the “lore”

watches jujutsu kaisen, has a tiktok collection dedicated entirely to gojo edits. despite that, maki is his favorite character

wrecker

his entire tiktok for you page consists of workout videos and cute animals

did the trend of tying a bow on the bicep and breaking it while he flexes

doesn’t know how to take photos of himself; watches tutorials on every social media he can find but still can’t figure it out

listens to bad bitch music. beyoncé, megan thee stallion, tinashe, doja cat, glorilla, nicki minaj, all that stuff.

comments “looked at my girl and smiled because she’s perfect” on a hot girls post

says “what the dog doin” all the time. all. the. time.

crosshair

serves cunt; serves all of the cunt

a back arching straight man; ur gay tote-bag carrying boyfriend

almost all his friends are lesbians. they take him to the queer/sapphic clubs and the chappel roan concerts

comments “why no one hating” on the most INNOCENT and PURE videos just to start arguments

is a biker boy but hates the whole “biker tok” stereotype and so he doesn’t go out on the bike anymore out of fear of being recorded without his consent

instagram notes is his main form of communication; he is an olympic ghoster

echo

his vocabulary contains “skibidi” “what the sigma” and “gyatt”

his most used “social medias,” in order, are pinterest, whatsapp, and tiktok

worked at a waffle house before he got fired for starting a fight

kpop fan. stans newjeans, tomorrow x together, and le sserrafim

the definition of “female rage”; also, indeed, serves cunt. not as much as crosshair, but serves cunt nonetheless.

has 13 daily hours of screen time. what is he doing for those hours? fuck if i know. fuck if he knows. fuck if his PHONE knows. (in reality, he leaves youtube videos playing all night and doesn’t even realize it)

[fortunekookie07]

Before you start reading this one, I'd just like you to know that Chryssikyu is 100% responsible for this one. All it took was one thought and I had to write something. Also I'm not capable of writing smut, it's beyond my capabilities. This is as far as I can go. So sorry. Without further ado I present to you

Call Me

You huff looking down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time that day. Rafayel has once again ignored your phone calls. Answered text messages? Keep dreaming!

This is the same man who got super pissy and dramatic when you didn't answer his call right away. It was always something like, "I guess I'm not important enough for you to take my calls." Or something of the like. Yet somehow, you managed to find his dramatic pouty self adorable.

Today, though? Not so much, you were sorely tempted to let a cat lose in his studio for not taking your calls all afternoon. He'd know it was you, though. You were the only one he'd admitted to of his extreme dislike (read fear) of the furry creature. Revenge would be had. Thus, you just didn't have the heart.

After another hour and still no response, you decided to pay him a visit. So you take the twenty minute trip over to his private art studio/home.

Walking up the path, you see nothing out of the ordinary, the same plants and pathway as always. Just as you reach the door, you hear music. You pause, Rafayel certainly liked music. He'd recommend some artists to you before. It's just that he'd never played any in his studio before. It was usually quiet. That was how he preferred it.

Hesitantly, you turn the knob slowly and carefully so as not to make a sound. Thank god Rafayel had regular maintenance done on his doors. They never squeaked or creaked. He detested that sound.

You remove your shoes and leave them in the doorway. Something just telling you not to make any sounds. Carefully searching the downstairs studio reveals that he's not here, but the further you venture in the louder, the music is.

You realize you hear two voices, one coming from a female and the other, definitely male. You freeze, oh my god, is Rafayel singing?!? The male voice is amazing. You've never heard anything like it, so you keep going almost as if his voice is luring you in.

At the top of the stairs, the living room is situated, a wide space. Rafayel had personally designed the room, and it reflected him greatly. The huge wall to the back was his own painting of the sea. One of his greatest works. Sadly, not many would ever see it. He rarely had company over, and even fewer of them were invited up to his living quarters upstairs. You were one of two people to be given that privilege.

This wasn't the most amazing thing, though. There, in front of the large sofa, was Rafayel singing and dancing using his paintbrush as a microphone. He was completely oblivious to your presence.

You quickly took out your phone and snapped a few photos before recording. The song ended then, and he turned around, seeing you holding your phone and trying not to laugh.

His ears instantly went red as a scarlet blush bloomed across his face. "How long have you been standing there? It's rude not to announce your presence." He partially covered his face, his eyes darting away. Then he saw that you were holding your phone camera pointed at him. "Are, are you recoding me?!?!?" He asked Incredulously his blush, deepening as he made to grab your phone.

"Delete it!" He swiped for the sleek device, but you managed to dodge his frantic hands. "Nope! This is all mine now. " You wagged the phone in his face before stuffing it down your shirt. Rafayel would never be so bold to get it now. You poked his cheeks, and he swiped at you again.

"Do that again, and I'll spit bubbles at you." He said, rubbing his face and trying to hide his red face. "What have you been doing? I've been trying to call you all day." You put your hands on your hips and raise a brow.

"I was trying to get inspiration and then decided to listen to some music. You know the rest." He crossed his arms and turned away from you in a humph motion. Still embaressed at having been caught.

When you asked what song and he gave the title, you frowned. "That song is like twenty years old. Why are you listening to that?" You'd heard the song before, just not in a long time. "It came in the station I was listening to." He defended.

"Next time, don't ignore my calls. Did you forget you wanted me to go with you to buy supplies for your painting?" Rafayel's face brightened, and his eyes were almost twinkling. You thought you had him until realization hit him.

"Hand over your phone first. You took pictures. If they aren't perfect, I'll delete them." He held his hand out expectantly.

"Nope! These are all mine." You grinned at the pout on his face, certain he would not venture to get it. You were about to find out how wrong you were

He reached towards you going for your shirt. Swatting his hands away, you "No touchy!" He only grinned in response. "Oh, I'm going to touch alright." The wicked glint in his eyes sent your heart racing. "Rafayel!" You say in warning backing up. The only escape is the stairs behind you.

You turn to dash down them to another room below. We'll that was your intention anyways. Right behind you is that blue fish. You stop short. That was all the time he needed. His arms snake around, you pulling you into his firm chest and holding you tight.

One of his hands plays with the bottom of your shirt, his fingers tapping your bare stomach underneath. His head burries into your shoulder, and he whispers your name against the bare skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A groan escapes your lips.

"I've got you now." He says, and you feel his grin before he is kissing your neck and making you squirm. You through your head back and sigh, leaving your mouth at his attention. His fingers are drawing patterns lightly on your stomach, and shivers shoot down your spine.

"This will end if you give me the phone." His voice is low and husky against your neck. "No-o." Your rebuttal is more of a moan at this point. Your brain is hazy as Rafayel starts on your buttons. The first one comes open with a pop, and his fingers are quick to trace more patterns on your stomach.

"Are you going to give me your phone?" He asks, nibbling on your ear. "Ahhhn," is all you manage to get out. The second button is popped, his fingers part your shirt, and the cool air makes you shiver against his heat. "How about now?" You manage to shake your head. The third button is undone. His fingers are just below your bra now. "Rafa...!" Your voice is breathless as he takes the last three buttons in one go.

His seeking fingers quickly pull your shirt open, exposing your chest and the stashed phone. "I'm taking it now." His voice is low and husky as he nips your ear again. His hands slide up your sides slowly. He's definitely teasing you now.

With your mind in a daze, you try to grab your phone, but his nimble fingers are faster. He grabs your wrist and then laces your fingers together. He kisses each of your fingers and the back of your hand before turning your head towards him and pinning you with a piercing stare.

Rafayel's blue-pink eyes are so heated and deep, you're about to fall in. Like you are looking at a quietly raging sea. He slowly leans in, dragging the moment out, and you let out an impatient whine. With your free hand, you wrap it around the back of his neck and draw him in closer. He brings your joined hands down lower, wrapping them around your waist and drawing you closer back. And then finally, finally, his lips press against yours.

You're so lost in his kiss that you don't even notice him delicately drawing your phone out of its hiding place in your bra and slipping it into his pants pocket. He lets go of your arm and then turns you around before hooking his hands around your knees and hoisting you up to his height. Your legs go around his waist, and then he's kissing you again as he walks to his bedroom.

****************************************************

As you lay in the bed with only a thin sheet covering you and Rafayel's arm for a pillow, you finally remember what started all this. "My phone! Rafayel, where is my phone?" He hums not fully paying attention. Just laying beside you with his eyes closed. You pink his arm as you sit up. "You stole my phone!" You can't even be mad at him. You fell for his distraction.

Sitting up, you look around the room for clothes. Spying his black pants, you leap off the bed and dash over to it. Sure enough, your phone is in his pocket. As fast as you can, you email a copy of the video you took and the pictures to yourself before looking at him triumphantly.

He's just sitting up resting an elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his hand, watching you. "Do you want a picture of me so badly?" He asks in a provoking tone. Deciding that you've had enough of his games, you walk over and grab his face with both hands. "I prefer the real thing." You say stealing a kiss before slipping away again.

"I've got to go now, I have a mission. I'll be gone for a few days. Don't forget to call me this time!" You hurriedly dress yourself and turn to leave the bedroom before he's grabbing your arm and pulling you back. "Come straight here when you're done." He says a serious look in his eyes. "I miss you when you're gone." You turn and hug him. "I'm just a phone call away." You kiss him again and then head out the door.