#chat with cris

[chloesimaginationthings]

This isn’t Gregory and Cassie’s first meet in FNAF..

[grimlyink-but-creative]

“Mail talk💌📭”

Your honor I will do anything for this man, HE HAS A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART‼️I STG IF ANYTHING ELSE BAD HAPPENS TO HIM, EXPECT SOMETHING TO BE ON FIRE!!/silly /j

[opikiquu]

my life a movie (PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR)

[cinamun]

What's the catch? | Next

[butuhaventseenmyman]

Girl dad Curly but like you were on the original crew but you had to go on maternity leave so u got replaced by Daisuke and then when they all get back (everythings fine alright the crash never happened) and he gets to see his baby girl and it's just cute fluffy yk? It's been on my brain for the past like 5 days dude

ohhh i LOVE Curly being a girl dadddd

my first sfw writing lmao

(btw i always envision Grant & reader + babies living in Montana- his birth state- since he loves winter sports and winter is his fav season canonically)

Curly missed you. So, so bad.

he was so happy that he could have you on the ship for most of your pregnancy, but the two of you knew it would be best for you if you left right before giving birth. as much as Curly wanted to be there, he knew it would be the safest at home, where you felt comfortable. the Tulpar was no place for giving birth.

so, another person was brought in to replace you- Daisuke. you'd met him before the crew left, let him feel your bump. he was really sweet, and you were glad your captain was in good hands.

Curly, unfortunately, couldn't make it to the birth because he was stuck at work for the next 3-month haul (he was lucky it was short).

you, of course, gave birth in the hospital to a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Curly was so sad he couldn't be with you, and he also had no idea how you were doing or if the birth even went well.

he tried to distract himself by being busy on the ship. you were also grateful that the baby was so needy, because it helped you forget about your postpartum depression and missing your husband- at least, for a little bit.

you rocked her and showed her pictures of her daddy, played pre-recorded videos of him singing and playing guitar as she fell asleep. he would cry in his quarters every few nights when the homesickness got too much, and Anya, Daisuke, and Swansea would take turns talking to him and making him feel better.

in this case, 3 months was a really long time.

but finally, that day came where the crew completed their delivery and were able to come home. you bundled your baby girl up and put her in her car seat, making sure her stroller was secure in the trunk before making the drive to the landing site.

Curly's mom came with you, just to make sure you were okay. you took turns driving, and she did most of it to let you rest.

thankfully, it was only a few hours away, so you weren't too tired by the time you got there. you buttoned up your jacket and the two of you made the walk to the waiting area a safe distance away.

that was where you met Daisuke's parents and Swansea's wife and one of his sons. you showed them your baby and introduced yourself as the captain's wife and, fuck if that didn't turn you on just saying it.

the seven of you watched the ship land together. actually, you didn't watch much of it- you were more focused on the look of pure wonder in your baby's eyes. even if she didn't remember it when she was older, she was about to meet her father for the first time.

people helped the tired crew adjust as they exited the ship. Curly always let his crew go first- you bit your lip at the suspense that caused the three of you.

and when he finally emerged...you remembered what you had been waiting for all your life.

he didn't even glance at the assistants as he ran towards you, his eyes on his beautiful baby. he embraced you first, kissing you passionately and wrapping his arms around you. you were both teary as he assessed you and your body. "how was the birth? no complications? she's alright?"

he kissed you again before hugging his mother, sobbing like the child he used to be in her presence. he broke down and she comforted him like only his mother could.

once he had calmed down a little, Grant took a look at the pride and joy he had helped to create with you. she had your eyes with a few tiny wisps of curly hair. he fell to his knees and pressed his lips to her delicate, tiny little forehead.

he went around and showed her to everyone- his crew and his crew's family. Anya, Daisuke, and Swansea loved her almost as much as you two did. you all talked about her and your lives for a while before it started to get closer to sunset.

everyone said goodbye, a farewell until the next haul, and headed home. Grant's mom offered to get the car started and allow you two a moment alone.

he bounced the new love of his life and tickled her, watching her toothless giggle.

and as he embraced you and his beautiful new daughter, he knew he'd always strive to protect the two things in his life most worth fighting for- and you also knew that you'd be your strongest when you had the man that was the most worth waiting for.

a/n: so sorry chat (and especially you Sage my love <3) i had this in the drafts for a while and just finished it up tonight- hope you like it!!!

[cloudykinzz]

"it's not a funeral, what's so upsetting?" Jason says in reference to his bar mitzvah, which ends up actually being a funeral, Whizzer's.

[notedchampagne]

dont forget: palamedes invented the pulmonary drain for dulcinea when he was 15 (htn 199). dont forget he loved her to the point of creation

[cablecar-s]

would you fall in love with me again?

It's been a while since the SAGA came out and idk if anyone has done this yet but THIS SONG. THIS. SONG. If you haven't already listen to Would You Fall In Love With Me Again that is part of the recent and last SAGA of EPIC: The Musical by the amazing Mr. Jalapeno. It just fits so well with Jason?? Recommend listening to the entirety of it as well! The music is so beautiful and I absolutely BAWLED. On with the story!! :D

———

"Just... Be safe, okay?"

"I'm Robin, I'm always safe."

And that was the last time you saw him.

If only you knew that Bruce was going to come to your apartment to break the news to you. If only you knew that Jason was going to get himself killed in Switzerland. If only you knew that his boyish smile you always loved would be the last time you would see it. If only you knew that you would never get to voice your love for him ever again once he left.

It ate at you.

Every wonder, every what if, every 'If I had just stopped him'

But that would never bring him back. Jason Todd was dead.

The boy you grew up with is gone. No more running from cops. Stealing tires together. Fulfilling that promise the two of you made under the stars. The dreams you had with him, forever gone.

And yet..

You hung on to those promises. Because he promised you, and he never broke his promises.

–––

You woke up to your alarm, the annoying sound of it buzzing on your bedside table. With a groan, your hand sneaks out from under the warm covers to slam on the reset button.

Wake up, brush teeth, have breakfast, go to work.

That had been your routine for the past few years now. Helped you keep whatever sanity you had left.

You became a journalist. Trying to shed more light to the less fortunate. Make people give a damn even if you knew very well they wouldn't because it was Gotham. And when did Gotham ever give a shit about those who suffered?

You also dabbled in a bit of the underworld. Trying to put crime lords behind bars. You weren't no Batman or Robin, but you weren't going to stand and do nothing while those rich assholes go away scot free.

Bruce had warned you to be careful. That you were practically putting a target on your head if you dug to deep. The only thing he got in return was a finger and a slam to the door.

Begrudgingly though, you had agreed to let him add more security to your apartment. If you were going to be doing something as dangerous as writing articles about said crime lords, it was better to be safe than sorry.

As of recently though, someone new had shown up to the underworld.

The Red Hood.

You had scoffed at first, "Another Joker knock off."

But then news of the mysterious figure spread fast.

He had killed eight drug lieutenants, killed anyone who dealt drugs to kids, and rapists and abusers alike killed with bullets infesting their bodies.

Red Hood: A Hero or a Criminal?

That was the title for your next article. People were skeptical of the Red Hood. Yes he cleaned up crime better than Batman, but technically it was still murder, and technically he was still selling drugs.

An exhausted sigh left your lips, your hands going up to rub at your eyes. You were beginning to see double, and you still needed to buy groceries for the next week and head home to make dinner.

Packing your things, you said your quick goodbyes to your colleagues and left to the store before the sun had disappeared from the sky.

You made sure to shop light to not have any wandering hands or eyes, you would get the rest tomorrow morning.

Your feet trudged up the multiple flights of stairs, the elevator not being fixed for six months now. God how you hated your landlord.

You struggled with your things, the loops of the plastic bags digging into your skin while trying to find your keys in your bag. With muttered curses, you were able to finally open the door.

You were too tired to notice the shadowy figure standing in your living room. Watching as you shut the door with your foot while dropping everything to the ground with relief.

"Nice place ya have."

The voice was deep, a bit gruff and modulated, with a hint of an accent beneath it all. It made you jump with a small yelp. Your head turned, hands fumbling for something, anything, to use as a weapon.

With wide eyes, you stared at the glowing white eyes that stared at you, and the slight shine of a red helmet.

Red Hood was in your home.

Jason felt like throwing up. He knew it was a bad idea. Told himself over and over and over again that he shouldn't see you. And yet, here he was; standing in your apartment, waiting for you to get home from work.

Your place was.. Homey. A bit messy, but you were always messy weren't you?

He couldn't help but snoop around. A fridge with not much (he'd have to go shopping for you some time), a few dishes here (he'll clean it up for you), papers scattered about on the table (you'd probably get mad if he touched those), and a bookshelf.

Filled to the brim with books. Books that he told you he loved. That he read to you. The only things he would gush to you about other than being Robin.

His gloved hand ran over the multiple covers, his hand pausing upon a familiar book.

Pride and Prejudice.

He couldn't help but smile a bit. You had teased him about being a hopeless romantic when you found the book. His younger self was embarrassed beyond belief, but you had convinced him to read it out to you anyways.

He flipped through the pages, his eyes skimming through the many notes you made and the passages you had highlighted. As the papers flew by, something fell out, making him give pause and crouch down to the ground.

It was a polaroid picture of the two of you as teens. You had written the year at the bottom with a pen. What caught him off guard were the words after it though.

'I love him.'

You obviously could have meant as a friend. Nothing but simple platonic love. But he knew better, the both of you did back then. You two were still awkward teenagers, but it was there, your feelings for each other bare for one another.

Hand holding became more than leading the other through alleyways. Sleeping next to each other became more than just keeping warm from the cold. And stolen glances were never unnoticed.

His stomach dropped for a moment, his breathing stuttering.

Maybe he should leave, before he did something he would regret.

Did you even love him still? He wasn't the goofy kid you would hang out with in the middle of the night anymore. He didn't have that pure innocence. That 'Robin gives me magic' bullshit.

Jason was now a man who had been through hell and back. A man who had left a trail of red in every step. A man who took more lives than he can count on his hands.

Would you still love him then?

Would you fall in love with him again even knowing all that's he done?

Before Jason could even have the chance of going out the same window he came in, the lights to your apartment came on, and he froze.

Both out of fear, and out of awe.

You were.. Pretty.

Well, you were always pretty. But you were more.. Mature. Tired, but mature, and pretty, and every word that was synonymous to it.

"Nice place ya have."

He internally cringed.

He watched you jump and try to grab a weapon near you, a smile cracking underneath his helmet when you grabbed the coat hanger.

What were you going to do?

Red Hood was in your apartment. He didn't attack, or kill, those who didn't do anything wrong. Meaning he wanted to talk. But about what?

"What are you doing here?" You questioned, trying to gather all the bravery you had. Your eyes narrowed when he held his hands up, picking up what seemed to be a chuckle coming from him.

"Just wanna talk."

"About what? I don't have anything for you."

You stayed in place, unblinking and on guard, but like you, the Red Hood just stood there.

"I thought you'd be happier to see me." The crime lord chuckled.

Your brows furrowed. Was this guy crazy? If you had met the Red Hood before you would definitely know.

When opening your mouth to say something, all words died on your tongue, time practically becoming still.

He had taken off his helmet, revealing messy, black helmet hair with a white streak at the front. A few scars decorated his face. His eyes an almost glowing green. And a face sharper than it's original round baby one.

It had been years. Years. But you could recognize that face anywhere.

"No welcome back—"

You had practically ran straight into him, Jason letting out a small 'oomph!' upon impact.

"It's— But— You—?" You were at a loss for words. Your arms practically squeezed his torso.

Breathing. He was breathing. You could hear his heart, hammering against his chest.

Alive. He was alive.

He was alive.

"Long story." He chuckled.

Tears were practically falling from your eyes already. You pulled away enough just to look at his face, hands cupping his face.

"Jason..?" You croaked out.

He smiled at you. Awkwardly, but a smile that you remembered all those years ago.

"That's me."

You could only stare at him, him staring back at you. You could barely process him standing before him.

He was real. He was breathing. He was warm.

"What? Am I that handsome?" He tried to joke.

Always trying to lighten the mood.

A broken laugh left you, a smile on your lips. "Shut up."

And you had shut him up. A kiss that was long overdue.

It was messy, teeth slightly clashing, large hands awkwardly trying to find its placement. But it was everything. It was perfect.

And then he pushed you away, hands holding onto your shoulders.

"We shouldn't— I can't—"

"What?"

Your heart shattered for a moment, watching Jason who had his head turned to the side, a frown on his lips.

"Why not?"

"We just can't."

"Jason."

"I'm not—!" His voice raised for a moment.

He closed his eyes, taking a breath. "I'm not who think I am."

Jason braced himself, forcing himself to look at you. "I'm not.. I'm not the same person. I'm different. I'm not..." He paused, inhaling sharply.

"I'm not a good person.."

You stared at him. The silence between you two becoming tense.

God was he dumb even now.

"So what's the problem?"

His grimaced before calling out your name, every syllable rolling off his tongue with such ease it almost made you want to jump him.

"The problem is that—"

"Do you still like chili dogs?"

His brows furrowed, taken aback by your question.

"What?"

You took a step forward. "Do you still like to read your boring classic novels?"

"They're not boring—"

Another step.

"Can you play the piano?"

"Well, maybe, but I might be rusty."

And then you had him in your hands once more.

"Then what's the issue?" You questioned, staring into his eyes.

He stared back at you, dumfounded now. He opened his mouth, before closing it. You spoke for him.

"Jason, I don't care if you killed people, that you sell drugs, or that you're some kind of zombie."

He cracked a smile at the last comment.

"You're still the same boy who promised me the stars on that rooftop. Whatever you've done, whether good or bad, I love you."

Jason stared at you, breath catching in his throat. And then his eyes, his beautiful, now green eyes glistened under the light.

"You mean it..?" His voice cracked for a moment, his hand reaching out to gently grab your wrist, squeezing it to try and reassure him.

Your own eyes began to water again, a broken laugh leaving you. You leaned forwards, pressing your forehead to his.

"Of course I do."

———

Reblogs are GREATLY appreciated :] (please reblog, I worked really hard on this)

[neoninglitchen]

I DONT USUALLY SWEAR BUT THIS IS A SPECIAL OCCASION BECAUSE HOLY FUCKING SHIT I JUST CAME OUT TO MY PARENTS AND THEY WHERE SO ACCEPTING I WANTED TO CRY I CANT THANK THEM ENOUGH OMG OMG

THANKING MY MUM, DAD, SISTER, THE REST OF MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS BECAUSE I AM JUMPING FOR JOY JUST AHSHGDAJY

IM GOING TO CRY FROM HAPPINESS THIS IS MY BEST DAY EVER

AND TO ALL THE OTHER TRANS PEOPLE, YOU CAN DO THIS! YOU ARE DOING SO WELL, I BELIEVE IN YOU, YOU ARE PERFECT KEEP BEING YOU!!!!

DJKHSGMNFDSCJNGJVHFHJFHFNJFDFNJNFDHJFDJSCHDAJFREBHJWFDVBRNHJDVBDNRMJ,CHDJKSIHUFGJBDIEO3FHBVDNKEHFBVNDJKEWFHBVDNKELWFHBVNDEJKWLFHBNVMSEKLJFNVBMDEJKLSFHBVNMEKLWJFBNVSJKDHGBDEKLWIOFHVBEIOFBGHKKNDL;ROIJGBHFNKDELIFGHBEKWFIGHBEKWIGHBFEJUYSGYKUEGRKUHFILHGIEFGYHUEIJWDUFRHGJFILERHUGYHKEIJLFRGHUTJKFREIHUJLUFRHKJEILWURYGFKHLIEFORP8GYTHEI389

anyways heres some silly highlights from the presentation!!!! (there was more but these were the best slides lol)

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Heavy hurt|Some comfort, Semi-canon compliant heart condition, Spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content).

Word Count: 4170

Written: 23rd December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Monster, by STARSET

Masterlist

Next ->

You've been responding to his messages, Sylus notes, but something's off. He's been away on some inane business trip, ever since you, the doctor, the fish, the prince and he had visited a new kitty cafe opening. He rarely gets to see you visibly excited, you are worse at showing your feelings on your face than he is. Whenever you're faced with animals, of any kind, even Mephisto, your eyes sparkle and you could easily spend hours upon hours sat with them. Even more so if they let you pet them.

The first time you'd seen the evol kitties, according to the doctor, you'd been unsure. They didn't look like cats. Something off and a little wrong, but they mewed at you and straight away you'd gently stroked their noses. As if unable to hold back.

Since then you would drag any of them along to play kitty cards. You didn't like the game, had no patience for strategy, but you did like petting the cats. Sitting there between every round, barely looking at the board, and tickling small whiskers. Much to the fish's distress.

While Sylus doesn't really care if he wins or loses around you, he's almost assured a win when playing with you because it's simply not something you care about. Distracted and unbothered by the game. He's only relieved that when he sprouted ears and a tail (of the caracal kind), you had been just as enamoured with those. Finally smothering him in affection in the same way, and being distracted by his tail. Though he'd never confess to competing with cats, at this point it's just an everyday occurrence.

He found he enjoyed playing most with the doctor, unlike when the man played with you, he took no soft approach with Sylus, and it was fun to butt heads with him. Stubborn as they both could be. That left you to lean your head on the fish's lap, the prince asleep against your side already, and play with cats, to a backdrop of 'You're cheating', 'I'm simply better at this than you.', 'If you would stop getting distracted-' that you mostly blocked out.

Rounds later, he paid the bill before anyone else got chance to, and picked up some cakes to take back.

Then he'd had his business trip to attend, having moved things around so on your rare day off, you could see everyone. It was never fun to drop you off, Sylus missed you anytime he could not see you, and though he was prideful, he had been honest about not being able to sleep without the sound of your voice. A confession you'd flushed at and tugged at one of the straps of your prosthetic.

He'd watched you waver over how to respond, biting at your lip, and fidgeting, as you fought against your urge to run away from him.

Trying didn't come easy, you'd told him. Honesty and openness, it got even harder when you'd lost your family, it got easier with every day you were given room to breathe by all of them, and every friend you held dear to your 'broken' heart. He didn't want to dig, or poke at old wounds, not now you were trying to live... but he often saw too much of himself in you.

Whether it was because of the way you'd grown up, or his soul inside of you, it made him even more careful and aware of offering you what you offered him.

"I'll miss you too, Sy. Call me, alright?" Your finally settled on, cool metal hand taking his in yours and squeezing. Before he'd left you, reluctant and complaining, he'd pressed kisses over your face, down your neck, and finally pushed you to the wall of your apartment building, to steal all the air from your lungs. Thigh holding you up, as he tangled his hands in your hair.

When he'd tried to pull away, he couldn't quite, leaning back in once, twice, three times, chasing the warmth of your mouth. Over and over.

You'd laughed, pushing him back to breathe, gasping, "It's a week. We'll be fine for a week."

A week... you aren't possessive enough, he thinks, spinning his pen in his hand. Half listening to Luke and Kieran talk. He feels as though he's emptied and lost, missing parts of what makes him who he is, and your messages feel... the same.

He could be reading into it... you're not exactly one to put your heart on your sleeve, or cling. You're independent because you've had to be, and he still hasn't had enough time to get you to lean all of your weight on him.

So he sends a message into the group chat without you, made in order to plan surprises or outings.

🐦‍⬛: Is everything ok back home?

⛄️: Aren't you busy?

🐦‍⬛: I'm taking a break.

They don't have to know he's tuning out his business partners, hoping they'll talk themselves out so he can leave.

🐠: lucky, some of us have r busy

🐠: [Attached photo]

🐦‍⬛: Please tell me that's not paint on my walnut table.

🐠: won't answer u then

⭐️: looks more colourful now

He rubs the space between his eyes, already dreading returning to the mess, and regretting letting the fish use his space for storing work while his studio is being fumigated. The partners at the table tense at his action, but he doesn't bother sparing them a glance, so they relax and resume talking.

🐦‍⬛: Is anyone going to answer my question?

⛄️: Is there a reason you're asking?

He hesitates, it's just a feeling, if he worries everyone, and it's nothing...

No, he didn't get this far by not trusting his instincts.

🐦‍⬛: Kitten's messages have felt off.

Two exclamation reactions are his instant response, the fish and prince. They start to type, then stop, then start again.

🐠: what way?

⭐️: have U called them?

⛄️: Calm down, they took some time off work because of a cold.

🐠: y didn't anyone tell us?

⛄️: I thought they would have asked Tara to contact you, or contacted you themselves?

🐦‍⬛:  They didn't.

⭐️: ive been on mission for a couple of days, i can stop in tomorrow when its over

He puts his phone down too forcefully and looks at the room. He's... irritated. Not like he normally is when it comes to you, a childish way where he can't have enough as he likes from you. Like you're a toy he cannot stop playing with. He's almost angry, but mostly sad.

He's been patient, surely you can at least talk to him if you feel sick?

Sylus is done with this trip, he's bored of listening to people talk nonsense, and he has no need for anything they have to offer. "We're done here, Luke. Kieran."

Waving his hand absently and ignoring protests behind him, he leaves the room, phone in hand.

🐦‍⬛: I'm coming back now.

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

Jenna had sent you home, it's not the first time she has. You're terrified one day she'll get bored of having to keep track of your health. Or you'll really let her down, and get you... or more importantly someone else, hurt.

It's probably not a normal mindset to worry so much about what your boss thinks, or to fear disappointing them like they're your parent.

It's not like you have parents to know what's that like... but gran's disappointment every time you got into fights growing up... well it was enough.

Caleb used to cover for you, within reason. He lectured you, told you to pull yourself up and figure it out. That fighting every battle against every jerk you met, reckless and stupid, would get you killed. "Come on pipsqueak, use that energy for something better. Something worthwhile."

So many reasons you didn't want to or couldn't, you wanted to tell him... a hand clenched over your chest.

You were so tired of disappointing them both though, so tired of seeing worn eyes tending to cuts and bruises. Bandaging your back, or fixing the set of your arm.

Being a hunter was that answer. If you used what little life you had in you, unsure when your busted up heart would give out finally, then you could greet Caleb and Gran with pride. Your life was a tool, to make others better.

So every day you weren't working, felt like a day you were failing them... failing to be worth anything other than the core in your chest. A vessel with no purpose or value but to hold something you hated. That could kill you.

It wasn't like you could work like this though... you'd laughed at your partners when they'd sprouted ears and tails. Especially Raffy, he'd been so disgruntled at the fate that had befallen him. This was... probably karma. Pointed, soft ears on top of your head, pinned back against your skull. Pristine white, so they at least blended into your hair.

At your back, a bristled tail, huge and furry... already having picked up some dirt to sully what had been pure white.

It hadn't settled since it had appeared, and you wondered what that said about you...

Fucked up mess. Stupid fool. Useless.

Too loud, everything was too loud. You could hear your neighbours through the walls, all the cars below your apartment, every child crying, dog barking, cat mewling.

It hurts.

You covered your ears with your hand, but noise filtered in through the new set you'd acquired.

Hurts.

You'd grown accustomed to the state of your heart. If you don't pay attention you can miss something, and you care now... perhaps you always did, just too raw like an open wound to let yourself.

It's racing and panicked. You don't need your hunter's watch to know it's too fast. 

Burying yourself into your bed, you cover your head with the duvet, grab at your headphones to shove them into your ears, turning them as loud as they can go, and bury your head under the pillows.

Your phone buzzes at your side, and you don't want to touch it. Scared to leave the cocoon you've built for yourself.

You'd begged Tara to tell Zayne you were sick with a cold, that you would be fine soon. She'd given you a heartbroken look that had made you bristle further, pity. Always pity.

You didn't want pity.

Before your fraying emotions could get the best of you, you'd fled the hunters association, hood up over your head and run home.

You can feel your tail trembling, struggling to swish under the blanket as you struggle to calm down, to at least get some sleep.

Maybe if you sleep it will go away.

Maybe when you wake up you'll feel better.

Useful.

Worth having around.

Not on the cusp of disappearing with nothing to show for yourself.

-----

When you'd woken up, tail still bristled, and newly acquired fangs digging into your bottom lip. Blood staining the bedsheet, you'd finally fished your phone out from your nest.

3am.

The world was quieter for it, and you wondered if this was part of why Sylus preferred the night to day.

You didn't remove your headphones, but you did finally open up your messaging app, seeing messages from everyone.

TaraTara💖: I hope you're ok bestie, if you need anything let me know.

Number One Lumiere Fan: Tara said you were sick, if you have time, I have a few shows you could watch to waste time. Only one is about Lumiere! Promise!

Simone (the one whose guns explode): Hey! Tara said you weren't doing so hot, if you want some company for a movie night, I make the best soup you'll ever have!

Captain: Remember to actually get some rest, take advantage of the break, alright? Everything will be fine here.

🐠cute fishie 🐠: hey cutie, wat do u think?

🐠cute fishie🐠: [Attached Image]

⭐️little star⭐️: missions going well, how are U?

⛄️sweet snowman⛄️: Tara said you're sick, I'll come over to check on you as soon as I can. Make sure you eat and drink.

🐦‍⬛pretty bird🐦‍⬛: Meetings are always more boring without you kitten, I hope you're missing me as much.

Your tail settles, curling against your side, fur flattening and you try really hard not to cry. You wish you'd thanked Tara when you left instead of fleeing, overstimulated and hurting.

Wounded like the cat you're teasingly referred to as. Feral and ready to hiss and scratch. You've spent so many years shutting people out.

Shutting Gran and Caleb out.

Shutting them out you wasted so much time until it was too late.

Why can't you learn?

You force yourself to respond, trying to sound as much yourself as you can... it's unnerving, to wear a mask over a mask. You wonder if you'll ever recognise your reflection.

You hesitate as you go to respond to your partners. You should tell them, reaching up to roughly pull the ears on your head. They'd understand, they've been where you are. Your brain says you should go to the kitty cafe, find out how to fix it this time around... but being out there, in the noise...

Instead you send some version of you're fine, and things are fine, everything is good. You're good.

You're together. You're useful. You're not a burden.

You aren't fragile and sick and useless.

You are worth keeping around, even when your heart picks up speed again, beating so hard against your chest that you fear the core wants to escape its fleshy vessel.

The straps attaching your prosthetic are digging into your skin, rubbing it raw, but you ache to even try to remove it. Fighting with the buckles and biting at the bit. You're still in your uniform, and you're sure by now you need a shower. The idea of water shooting a shot of anxiety straight into your chest, flaring up your tail, and your ears flatten as far as they can.

No water...

Maybe later.

Or you can really fill out how shit you feel with a wet wipe bath.

Caleb would kill you.

You don't want to think about it anymore. You want to let the quiet take over, or reasonably so with the screamo in your ears. Blasting the noise outside into nothing.

So you go back to sleep. Easing the pain in your heart with the only sure fire way.

---------

You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

Bolt upright in bed, hissing through your teeth, chest so tight you can feel your ribs.

You flounder, pulling at where your straps should be, but they're gone, no leather under your fingers. So you move to claw at your chest with one hand, gasping.

Hands grab you, and you struggle and you fight and you hiss. Fangs out, feral and ready to claw your way free. Arms far stronger than you pull you against a warm chest, tilt your head back and pills are placed in your mouth. You try to spit them out but a hand is on your throat, rubbing at your larynx. You swallow and then water follows it.

You splutter and cough, and you wriggle and struggle. Your head is pressed against skin, and you sink your fangs in.

Out. Out. Out.

"It's alright, you're alright, I'm here."

Blood fills your mouth and his scent surrounds you and you shiver. Blinking as your heart medication begins to do its job, easing the fractured organ in your chest. You spit, trying to clear your mouth of the taste of metal, shivering and shaking but your chest isn't constricting you now.

"Sy-" You cry outloud, he holds you, not bothered by the blood tricking down his shoulder. Of course he isn't, he heals it, the pain nothing in comparison to watching you choke on air you can't breathe. "Sorry. Sorry." You mumble against his skin, licking where you bit, crying and shaking. Wrapping your arm around his neck.

He assures you, and he rocks you both in his arms, rubbing your back and running a hand through your hair. Careful around your ears, not going far enough down to touch your bristled tail.

He hums and he rocks, and he squeezes you tight enough to ground you.

It's an hour or two later when you can finally feel any semblance of stable. You can't bring yourself to look at Sylus, he's stroking your cheek and wiping tears from your face, and all you can do is stare at the bed. You can't think of what to say.

You didn't take your medication, you hurt him... it's not the first time, but when this happened with Caleb you didn't have a cats' fangs.

Between you opening up and me prying, I prefer the former. He'd told you, after a terrible day, listing every way he would support you.

With all your sharp edge, you place your hand over his on your cheek, "I'm sorry, Sy."

He huffs, turning you in his arms so you're facing each other, but his one hand grips your hip, sturdy. Solid, strong. He doesn't hurt, but escaping would be hard. You try hard not to.

Though you can feel the... your tail swishing.

He looks at it, at your ears, then at you, red nosed and disheveled.

"Explain."

It's a command, brooking little argument, and though normally you'd refuse to take orders, you duck your head now. Avoiding molten eyes and seeking out something to focus on. The hand that was on your head, stretches out in between you both, palm up, and you take it quickly. Toying with his fingers, squeezing it in your own. Finding connection in your hand on his.

"Jenna sent me home, my evol doesn't work, I can't fight. I... it hurt. Everything's so loud."

You can't see it as he frowns, as your ears prick, then settle, seeking out all the things that hurt them. "I went to sleep, thought it would make this go away, but it didn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You hear it then, the pain, like he's biting down on glass. Your eyes dart up and his eyes are glassy, warm red gone dull. "You left your prosthetic on. It was rubbing your skin raw at the angle you were sleeping. There was blood on your sheets." He presses his forehead to yours and breathes you in, "Then this. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracks, and you want to be sick.

You twine your fingers with his and choke on the words, "I didn't want to be a bother."

He hisses, his grip on your hand almost hurts, but you probably deserve so much worse. You lied to him, to them, and you hurt him. More than just biting at him.

"You need to tell me. No matter what. No matter what I'm doing, beloved. No matter the issue." He kisses your forehead, over and over and over again. "Promise me."

You nod, and curl your pinky around his, just like you used to with Caleb when he made you promise to come to him with an injury. The words are too stuck in your throat, your voice too sore to use, but you nod. Desperately.

"You're not a burden to be carried, kitten. Ever. Do you understand?"

You don't. You want to, but it's hard. There is no part of you that feels easy or fun, but you do love him. So much. More than you thought yourself capable of. More than you wanted, on borrowed time.

"I'll try." You promise, and it feels like you've cycled back around to the start. Promising to figure things out at home, promising to aim for something. A future you're not sure you're going to ever see.

He takes it in earnest, you do not go back on your word. You are loyal and once you trust, you trust with your heart and your soul. It is yourself you do not trust.

Instead he eases you back into his lap and stands, you flinch and release his hand to grab his neck with your hand. "You need to be cleaned up, I'll help." You go to tell him no because it's water, and you're more a cat than even he teases you for, but you have your head in his neck at this angle, and his scent is so strong. Your tail flattens and begins to flick, lazy and soothed. You hear him chuckle, vibrating through his chest and through yours. "I'm not going anywhere."

-----------

Sylus eases you through steps. He's seen you injured, he's seen you with phantom pains, and he's watched you battle nightmares. Wanderers with swords through your chest, your heart stopping, an explosion you can't stop. He knows what you look like when wounded, he also knows that you fear his reaction when you are.

It takes time to heal wounds, he knows that intimately. You'd never shed your rage or anger, not really. When someone has made mention of gods you'd scoffed, when someone has talked about EVER and their many plans to help humanity, you'd snarled. You trust no king, no god, no corporation to fix the world or the people in it. He knows you're always scared but you keep walking forwards anyway, and he admires and loves you for it.

He just wishes you'd take his hand when that happens.

He has not felt fear like seeing your heart failing you in his arms before, and no matter the violence of your struggle, he would let you rip him to pieces to survive.

He has so much time, and his greatest fear is losing you too soon.

He cleans, and he dries, brushing hair and rubbing lotion to ease the burns on your skin. He helps you dress, finding clothes that don't irritate your tail, because at least he is intimately familiar with that, and then he sits you down on the couch with vegetable soup. Not handmade, though he'd rather have done so. He doesn't want to leave you alone, so he orders what he needs. Sending the twins running around. He's sure you'd like to see them, but he's worried their exuberance will agitate the overstimulation you're combatting.

Watching your ears flick this way and that, picking up too much. As though you don't already struggle with the world's input.

He almost feeds you, wanting to heal you with his own hands, like he's anything like the doctor... he's not. His skills are in bloodshed, and he is as sharp edged as you are.

Except you have made yourself a weapon, to be worth the pain, and he was made a weapon, to survive the pain.

He does not move far away, however, kneeling at your feet, and massaging your calves while you eat. You try to pull your legs away, but he keeps them held, and continues his movements. You have soothed his body before, stitched his wounds, kissed where his scars would be, and he will not have you lacking his own love and affection.

A dragon does not love lightly. Though you don't remember the depths he has gone to for you. This is an easy act of devotion.

"You need to tell them too." He finally speaks, as you clear your bowl. He's relieved to see your ears are no longer flat, your tail is not bristled, you are as relaxed as you can be. You nod, guilt written in your face, and he retrieves your phone for you on black and red mist.

Sitting at your side, he grabs your brush and begins to brush your tail. You almost leap into the air, startled and dropping your phone onto the couch cushions. "Sy!"

"Cat fur can get tangled, especially long fur." He smirks, pulling you closer, and brushing through it with long fingers, "So let me take care of it."

You flinch at the contact, stare at where his hand is in the new found attachment, then keeping your eyes trained on your phone, you nod.

He's content to let you write out what you need to, to be honest with the others, he doesn't want to have that job. It's your mission to step out of your self made cage. So he brushes quietly, the twitching tail in his hands restless, but soon as soft as you can be in your relaxed moments.

Your head hits his shoulder, ears twitching in sleep as all the pent up energy and stress escapes you. Held in long white furs in a small brush. You mutter in your sleep, words he can't understand, and whistle through your nose, little noises that make him laugh.

The best, however, is the purring in the back of your throat, broken up by sleep, and the tail that has found its way around his wrist.

He does not move you, but he retrieves a blanket and holds you against him, cheek pressed to the top of your head, against your fur ears, and keeps watch while you finally find some peace.

⛄️: Are they alright?

🐦‍⬛: They will be.

[joeyclaire]

[underratedgrapeju1ce]

i bet on losing dogs.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

WHAT. *breaks down your door* WHAT. WHAT BDSM GEAR CHARLES?? WHAT👀👀👀👀👀👀👀🫴🏻

This is the most of a preview youre getting just so everyone can see the evil shit i set up for myself

[elvensixpm]

In my vision of Little Wolf, the suitors form a circle around Telemachus and Antinous to physically stop him from escaping. In the first few seconds, Antinous shoves Telemachus so hard he bumps into the wall of suitors, and one of them (who I like to think was pitying Telemachus— or is trying to rile the crowd up even further) hands him a small dagger to fight against Antinous.

Of course, Telemachus fumbles with the dagger, never really getting close enough to deal any blows to Antinous. He holds the blade wrong, or maybe even tries to hit him with the hilt instead— because Antinous is still a guest, it would look bad on the Ithacan prince if he stabbed him.

And then Athena comes to his aid, and suddenly, he's on equal footing with Antinous. He's quick to evade his heavy blows and even manages to nick him on the eye (Polythemus reference!), which catches Antinous off guard and makes him even more aggressive.

The suitors, not willing to see Antinous lose (they placed bets on him LOL), intervene by grabbing at Telemachus and tripping him up as he fights against his opponent. They egg on the two, and then—

Antinous strikes Telemachus so hard it knocks out all the air from his lungs, and the Ithacan prince falls to the ground, defeated and humiliated but still buzzing with adrenaline. Warm blood trickles from his nose as he looks up at the suitors, who suddenly disperse, having lost interest in the fight.

Antinous tells him to go away and cry to Penelope, acting smug (but not really, his pride is somewhat hurt by the fact Telemachus managed to injure his eye) and talking himself up to the other suitors as he walks away.

As Antinous walks out the door, that's when Penelope enters the courtyard. He whistles at her, and she ignores him (although she is startled by his bleeding eye) in favour of Telemachus, who she rushes over to check on.

The stifled laughter and murmurs from the suitors as Penelope kneels to inspect his broken nose is not lost on him, and he somehow manages to convince her that he's fine— quickly excusing himself and retreating back to his room.

Well, at least he survived! That's a win in his mind. Now, he needs to find out why the goddess of wisdom intervened to help him.

[I also like to imagine Telemachus took the 'bite little wolf, bite!' bit seriously and now Antinous has seriously deep teeth marks in him. Telemachus goes up to the suitors like "thanks for the advice guys!" and they're like "uuuuh...." (looking at his missing tooth /j)]

[iilmunchkiin]

Just saw an absolutely amazing post that convinced me that Ceroba would be the one who confesses first.

(op turned turned off reblogs unfortunately so I'm making this post (┬┬﹏┬┬)) ("Just put the link to the post here-" No, you absolute buffoon, they turned it off for a reason and I'm going to respect that) (also potential rambling?? again??) (future LM here, yep there is alot of rambling. this was supposed to be a character analysis but I accidentally made a fic halfway LMAOAOAOAOAOA )

god I'm a sucker for slow burn and angst (duh, you all know that) I used to think that Starlo wouldn't be able to take it anymore and finally get the balls to confess to her, he goes up to her and it'll be the usual cheesy but wholesome moment with him nervously laughing, Ceroba getting surprised so she turns away while brushing off some hair that got on her face, Starlo sheepishly rubbing the back of his head and stuttering to get the words out. It'll all be planned of course he's a gentleman, he's just so stupidly nice and understanding that if Ceroba just flat out tells him "I don't wanna be in a romantic relationship with you" I just know he's going to smile and tell her it's okay and he'd still be there for her and it won't affect their friendship at all and he's going to stay by her side de jashdkahsd sorry the brainworms are doing the thing again.

Of course the idea of Ceroba confessing first also came into my mind, her realizing she's in love with Starlo but now has to fight the guilt thinking that she's "betraying/cheating on Chujin" made the little angsty gremlin in me giggle but I just preferred it would be Starlo who breaks the ice just for shittles and giggles (I like seeing him get all blushy and shy HIHIHIHIH). Also adding the fact that Ceroba DID consider getting together with him but she brushes it off cuz she thinks he's still too immature. (Yes I am aware Ceroba acknowledges Starlo growing up in True Pacifist but I didn't give it that much thought I was in delulu land)

But then I saw the post and ho h my god oh my goddddddd.....

I was a fool

Starlo is aware of what Ceroba has gone through and as her childhood best friend he would respect her and not risk overwhelming her with a confession cuz OF COURSE HE WOULDNT, and if he DID consider confessing it would be YEARS after the whole "Clover-sacrificing-themselves-for-the-futue-of-monsterkind" ordeal but he would have probably fallen out of love at this point and it would go

⭐: "OH YEAH btw I had a crush on you when we were kids" 🦊: "HUH"

(not dismissing the chance he could still be in love with her despite that I mean he's dedicated and loyal and so damn devoted to her it makes sense, it was just had a funny thought giggles)

But then after reading the post, it reopened the idea of Ceroba confessing first and... oh my god it was glorious. It would start small, thinking he looked nice one day, subconsciously gazing at him and adoring him at the distance as he talks his usual nonsense at the saloon with the feisty 5, wanting to hang out with him a little more than usual, until it slowly builds up over time. She starts noticing the little things about him, his wide smile, the sound of his voice and the laughter he makes when he does his usual shenanigans with her in post-pacifist where things are starting to get brighter as they heal together, she would call him an idiot but god he would just smile at her again and the little dimples on the sides of his face would make her melt without knowing and she swears she felt her face get warm but brushes it off, thinking it's nothing. But that's where the snowball keeps getting bigger, she would see him talking to the folk again at the saloon and wish it was her he was laughing with, she'll quickly snap out of it, shake her head a little and think about how weird it was for her to have thought about that. She'd find herself beaming when he calls her name and feel so stupid for doing so, "Why am I so happy all of a sudden? He says my name all the time..."

And the snowball finally crashes when they have one of those talks, y'know the ones where you usually have at 3 am with your friends? Just talking about life in general, talking about the future, what are each of them scared of, what they feel and what they think about things, just being so vulnerable and open with each other. They've had their fair share of these talks but today was different. He looked absolutely stunning, despite being mentally exhausted he still looked divine, the way his eyes droop when his expression softens, the slow rise and fall of his chest when he sighs, his wide glistening smile turning into a small and soft curl on his lips. She can't help herself but make subtle touches and discreetly brush her shoulder against his as they lean towards the railings of the balcony, fighting the urge to just reach out and figure out small ways to make contact with him. She gazes at him the entire time, analyzing him, noticing all the little changes he makes, why can't she look away? She can't, she tried, so many times but it still ends up with her looking at him again trying to burn the image of him in her mind, wanting to leave it there forever. When the talk comes to a close, he turns to her and offers a hug, she accepts it and the moment he melts into her arms, she feels a sudden warmth on her chest and it instantly scatters around her entire body, enveloping her. They share each other's warmth, she slowly buries her face onto his shoulder, cherishing this small moment with him as they hold each other tight in each other's embrace. She's closing her eyes, inhaling his scent, it feels like she's in a dream, she doesn't want this moment to end, she doesn't wanna wake up just yet but.... They break a part, he gives her his goodbyes. As she goes home she lays in bed, face up, staring at the ceiling as she recalls everything that happened to her, putting pieces of the puzzle together as she finally comes to terms with herself and gets hit with the realization. It all comes crashing down to her, her eyes widen and she lets out an audible groan. She lays in silence for a moment, feeling absolute agony for being so stupid, she peaks through her fingers and looks back up the ceiling again, "Fuck..."

I haven't even dabbled with what goes on in her head after she accepts this fact, the sudden guilt consuming her, feeling like she betrayed Chujin, the person she loved with her entire soul only to fall for another. She hates it. And if she confesses she's going to be a wreck and Starlo just instantly goes to comfort her, telling her it's okay, she doesn't have to force herself to confess to h- No. She wants this, she's absolutely in love, he may have fallen first but she fell even harder, but with so much conflict in her mind, wanting to hold his hand without the weight on her shoulders pulling her back. The entire time they're together, Starlo finds the time to console her, comfort her, feeling horrible for making him stay up late just for her but he says he doesn't mind and he himself wants this, feeling absolutely honored to have her in her arms and that she trusts him so much that she's just so open and vulnerable and he's being so kind and patient to her I hate them I HATE THEM I FFUCKING HATE THUEJN R F FUCK FUCKF FFIFUUCJCC N I HATE THEMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

thE SLOW BURN IS SO SLOW BUT KEEP UP AND SET THE KITCHEN IN FLAMES PLEASE RAUGHHH

SAVE ME STAROBA W AS SAV VE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TL;DR: uhhhh read a post and it convinced me that Ceroba slowly falls in love with Starlo over time without realizing it and when she finally does she feels really guilty cuz it feels like she's betraying Chujin, the slow burning is burning and the angst is scrumptious. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. /j

[wodania]

Finally… JonRhaegar has been cooked