#count down to mew biting me

[draconicfool]

     There's an excited giggle that leaves the small vidyadhara as he looks at himself in the reflection of the water. Tugging at the corner of his mouth to get a good look at the way his teeth are coming in. They're so different than the other children's, he realizes. Every one sharp as can be. And behind them there are more. Rows upon rows of the sharp points. And all too eagerly, he's running over to his keeper. Tugging at Ghengis' sleeve as his tail wags and he points at his mouth.

     “ Ghen-ge, look! My teeth are coming in, they're really coming in! ”

     Upon the elder's face flashes a look that the young Shoi-Ming couldn't understand. One who would learn, in the years to come, was disgust. But he'd pull a smile over his features before crouching down. A hand resting on the small boy's shoulder. As though the excitement is warranted, as though he were going to say something encouraging. 

     Those are not the words that leave Ghengis, however.

     “ They are growing in. But you know what they say, right? Best to hide the fangs that will one day be used to carry out their duty. We don't want to scare people now do we? ”

     That wag of his tail stops near immediately. The hand that had been tugging at his mouth to show off his teeth dropping then. Scare people… no, he doesn't want scare people. But such a thing is true, isn't it? When he has to perform his duties, the way that Ghengis has described them – people will come to fear this side of him, won't they? This part of him he'd been so excited to see. They would run and flee in terror.

–––– 

     The laughter that's leaving Shoi-Ming is, to Ghengis, an annoyance to listen to. Something that he keeps to himself up until the moment that the young Imbibitor Lunae has finally left the manor. And still, Mons Grandis is giggling away as he goes to his room. Or attempts to, as the older vidyadhara's hand has wrapped around the smaller male's arm. Confusion clear on the features of the Yuque's High Elder. Things had been fine hadn't they? It was a good day?

     “ If you keep conducting yourself in such a way, you're going to be looked down upon, you realize that, right? A High Elder doesn't behave this way. Cackling like some beast in the wild, showing off those fangs of yours. Do you realize how grating such a sound that is? How awful a sight? ”

     His features fall near immediately, gaze falling to the floor rather than the Preceptor who still has a hold on him. Mouth opening to speak but shutting quickly. As if he's afraid of talking back. It's only the other shaking him with a demand to be answered that brings any words from the smaller at all.

     “ Yes, Lord Ghengis. I – I understand. I won't do it again. ”

     “ Honestly, that Imbibitor Lunae is a terrible influence on you. I think it better if you stop interacting with him at all. ”

     There's a protest on his lips, one he wants desperately to voice. And yet he's shoved into his bedroom before those words can even leave him. The door shut and locked from the outside as Shoi-Ming pounds on the door. Crying out to be heard. As if he'll be listened to. When has he ever been listened to?

–––– 

     “ Your body is flawed, you know. It's a good thing only your entourage and I ever see you like this. ”

     Shoi-Ming curls in slightly on himself. Not looking at where Ghengis has sat himself on the edge of his bed. Where he's lighting his pipe and taking a deep inhale. His crimson eyes running over the smaller's figure. Every bite and bruise. The scars that peak out from under that red rope. The dips in his hips and even the way that he has not one sex organ but both. As if the very nature of his existence is a sin in itself. Even if Ghengis and the knights are constantly enjoying that body. 

     Any chance to knock down any confidence the Mons Grandis is building. Any chance to make sure that he knows he's less than. That there's nothing and nobody out there for him but Ghengis. To keep him so easily under the elder's thumb.

     “ You remember what I've told you, right? Tell me, Mons Grandis. ”

     “ Nobody – nobody but Lord Ghengis will ever love me… because I am a hideous monster. ”

     “ That's right. ”

     The preceptor takes a long drag from his pipe. Sitting still a moment before he releases the smoke quietly. Allowing it to roll off of his tongue before he gets up, going to get himself dressed again. He brushes a free hand through his hair, gazing only for a moment back at the shaking thing that calls itself a high elder. This is how he likes it, after all. The smaller so perfectly under his thumb. 

     “ We need to cut your hair, soon. You'd look even more like a beast if we let it keep growing. Nobody wants a disgusting beast to be seen in public, you understand. ”

     When the only response he's given is a nod in response, the preceptor moves forward. Pulling the smaller male's hair to bring him up. Puffing smoke directly into Shoi-Ming's face. Not moving even when the other tries to cough and catch his breath.

     “ I expect an answer when I speak, Shoi-Ming. ”

     “ Y-yes sir. You – you're right. I would look like a terrifying monster if we don't cut it soon. You're right. You're always right, Ghen-ge. ”

     He scoffs before letting the other go. Watching as Shoi-Ming crawls under covers and tries to hide himself. Such a pitful creature, he thinks. But it works best that way for him. The more he's broken ,the easier he is to hold onto. The easier it is to make sure Ghengis is calling the shots. And not the Mons Grandis of the Yuque.

[heechwe]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 '𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐/𝟑 | 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 + 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

୨୧ pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 428 ୨୧ genre: smut ୨୧ tags: established relationship, protected sex, blindfolds, belly bulging.

What did you do in a past life to find a boyfriend with such physical and mental prowess, especially in the bedroom? 

It’s painfully exquisite the way Jungwon occupies all the hollow parts of you when he’s filling you to the hilt, his cock the right length and girth to make your mouth water. A beautiful rhythm is established with the snap of hips, his tip nudging the sweet spot inside of you that makes your mouth fall open. 

“Oh my god,” you mewl when his hips press against yours, this thrust particularly powerful and deep. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he takes hold of your thigh to provide you a better angle of pleasure. Your skin against his is slick, the sweat clinging to both of your bodies spreading to the sheets beneath you after the hours of sex you’ve enjoyed every second of.

“You like when you can feel all of me, baby?” Jungwon asks, another sharp jut of his body into yours making you whine in agreement.

“Fuck yes,” you say in the form of a whisper.

He’s so big, you wonder how you can take every inch of him after all of these years spending your days and nights at his side. But, like the good girl you are, you relish in what he provides.

 And when Jungwon decided to place a blindfold over your eyes, you knew you were in for double the dose of his provisions.

Jungwon gets a kick out of it, taking away one of your senses to heighten the rest of them to a remarkable feat. He admires the gasps that leave your lips as he trails his across your skin and he guides your hands to parts of him that you can’t see for yourself. He smirks when he feels the little jolts that rock your body as he presses his mouth or other parts of himself to a particularly sensitive area.

Especially at the apex of your thighs, his second home.

“You feel amazing, my love. You were made for me, you know that?” The groans he releases into your ear as he thrusts inside of you again are divine, the satisfaction doubled for him in the same way it is for you. He doesn’t mind if the bed frame is banging against the wall and wakes your neighbors. He could care less if the whole complex hears the two of you in the throes of ecstasy. 

Fuck them all, he thinks. Let them hear how good I take care of my girl.

@mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊ @kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[compact-turtle]

I'll listen to you next time. Okay? ~

Concept: Yandere Space Explorer x Gn Reader: Spicy Edition

Summary: Orion ignores your pleas to stay home and decides to follow you into the jungle.

TW: NS//FW, finger/ing, dub-con?, biting, general yandere stuff, riding, just being horny yk

Word count: 1.4k

Note: I'm like a thousand followers late but here's the first part of the thousand (now 2 thousand?!?!) follower celebration I promised!! I plan on breaking it up into 3 different posts for each character. First will be Orion, then Ivar and Atticus last!

Entry Date XX-XX-XXX Y/n has begun hoarding large amounts of food lately. No preference for food in the pile with the exception of Aishi flowers. Behavior lately has been erratic. Body language suggests uneasiness and anxiety. They’ve instructed me to stay in the hut for a few days while they leave on a journey. They brought all the Aishi flowers with them along with half the food pile. In order to understand their behavior, I am choosing to ignore their request and will follow them. I have- 

"Oh fuck” Orion whispered as he finally noticed how lifeless the jungle had suddenly become. 

He was utterly absorbed in finishing his journal entry, neglecting to watch his surroundings despite your repeated warnings. Orion couldn't determine how long the forest had been silent. 

He quietly packed up his items, his heart pounding and his breath quickening.

It's fine. You were pretty close. You were just a few hundred feet inside a nearby cave that he'd tracked you down to. 

 Keep calm. Orion reminded himself multiple times as his feet picked up the pace. His eyes caught a glimpse of something purple stalking him. 

No more calm. 

Orion booked it. He clutched his satchel tightly while weaving through the jungle. Roots nearly tripped him. The jungle began to blur into a confusing tapestry of blue, green, and every other color. 

Suddenly, he was pinned to the ground. Its sharp teeth flashed, and a disgusting smell wafted into his nose. 

"GET OFF ME" Orion yelled as he attempted to kick the beast off him. 

The kick did very little to harm it. At most, he probably annoyed the creature. The beast growled and opened its mouth wider. 

Something pushed the giant beast off him just as it was about to take a bite. The beast staggered back in shock. A large howl escaped the beast.

You jumped on top of it with a blade in your head. You quickly shoved your blade into the side of the beast. Cries of pain echoed from it as he watched you take the knife out of its neck. It shook you off its back, and you fell onto the ground. Quickly, it ran into the jungle. 

"WHY YOU HERE? SUPPOSED TO STAY HOME!" You screamed at him. Your body was sluggish as it dragged itself off the ground.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing okay! You've been acting so weird lately and-." 

"Go home. Now." 

Without looking back, you slowly walked into a nearby cave. Orion tip-toed behind you into the cave, trying not to upset you any further. A makeshift leaf curtain door covered the entrance. The cave was small and had a dead end. A pile of aishi flowers was littered around with a musk smell.

You immediately collapsed onto the flower when you walked in. Your body giving up as it pushed itself past the limit. Orion rushed over to you. At first, he assumed you were injured in the fight with the predator.

His eyes darted in surprise when he realized you were bare. He pulled you into his arms with your back facing him. Sweat dripped down your forehead as you buried yourself in his arms. It took Orion a few seconds to understand what was wrong with you. A small smile snaked itself way onto his lips. 

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I didn't know it was your heat and mating season! You should've said something to me. I would've helped you. "Orion said sweetly as he traced his finger down your back. You gave a soft mew and shuddered underneath his touch. 

"Nooo. Give me flowers. I eat." You cried, trying to fight him. "I need it!"

Orion reached over and gently fed you a flower. Your body began to cool down, and your mews died down. The sensitivity is fading away. A look of soberness slowly leaked into your eyes. 

Hm. No wonder you were collecting these so much. They were meant to suppress your heat. Still, you didn't need the flowers now that he was here to assist you. He snatched the flower from your hand. You whined as he took it away. 

Orion resumed teasing your body. His finger stopped at the base of your tail. He wrapped his fingers around it, following its length until the tip. He marveled at the flexibility of your tail as it wrapped around his arm in pleasure. The fur underneath his skin was soft like the blankets in your room. 

 When his fingers reached the end, he circled them around it and toyed with it. Tiny trembles reverberated through your body. You began to pant more. Drool slipped over the side of your mouth, and a flushed color began to paint your skin.

"Does it feel good? Am I a good boy helping you?" 

"Nooooo. Stop. No touch," You babble incoherently. 

"Hm? It doesn't feel good here. I'm so sorry. Let me try somewhere else." Orion apologized teasingly while he nibbled on your ear.  

His finger began to trail down lower from your tail. Gently, he pried your legs apart. He slowly slipped his finger inside you. You writhed when Orion pushed it in. Your tail curled up, and your eyes glazed over in pleasure. 

Your hole was wet as it ached for him. It wrapped around his finger as he pushed in and out of it. Wet slick coating the entire finger. The sensation of your hole was exhilarating with the pressure around it as he added another finger. As his fingers curved inside you, the feeling intensified around him. He shivered in bliss as your back arched, trying to make the fingers go in deeper. 

Your voice echoed through the cave. He listened as you mewed out small chirps and cries. He adjusted your head and began to suck on your tongue. Greedily, he relished the taste of your mouth. The taste of your mouth was so sweet, like honey. It brought him pure bliss, and he was almost ready to explode. 

His cock ached and was sore inside his pants. He began to grind on your back, desperate for release. He lapped at your tounge and it felt like he'd drank ambrosia from the gods. Every drop dripped from his mouth straight into his very essence. He couldn't take it anymore as he rubbed himself into your back.

Suddenly, you ripped your lips off of him. A throbbed headache resounded as you pushed him on the floor. His fingers leave your tight hole. 

He watched you get on top of him. You sat on top of him, and your tail pinned his hands to the ground. You tore off his pants. His cock managed to spring free. He moaned as you tried to sit down on him. Your body desperately tries to take his entire length. You shifted and shuffled in various directions, trying to make it fit. 

Finally, your walls managed to take him in. You slicked up his dick with your nectar and pushed it inside yourself deeper. He groaned at how tight you were inside. It almost felt suffocating. Still, he adored the way you devoured him, and was still ravenous for more.

"Can I finish inside you? Please, please, please, let me," Orion begged as you moved your hips, "You feel too good. I'll do whatever you want. Just let me finish in you." 

"No. Ri, not listen to me. Bad boy today." You said through gasps.

You leaned down and bit his neck as punishment for even asking that. Something in him broke. He knew it was too soon. You just put it inside, and he wanted to fill you up. 

He tried to listen and hold back. However, the image of you full of him pushed him over the edge. Your belly filled with him to the brim. Your sweet slick mixed with his salty seed. Your delicate skin is stained with his dirty white liquid. Afterward, you'd lift yourself up and spill the extra fluid your hole couldn't contain. 

A slight whine escaped your lips as Orion made his fantasy a reality. He painted your walls white and moaned as you took it all in. He couldn't help it. Listening to you call him a bad boy while riding him was too much. 

"I'm sorry for not listening to you today. Let's do it again, and I'll listen to you this time. Okay?" 

[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.

[marikosenwrites]

📓✧˖°.bungo stray dogs smut scenarios and hcs

sen: my first smut fic lmao idk what and how i do but i'm gonna TRY MY BEST feed back is VERY MUCH appreciated i originally planned to do purely fic no hcs but i decided against that ^v^ tell me if you want the word count because i'm unsure if i should put it or not

characters: ada!dazai osamu, edogawa ranpo, chuuya nakahara

warnings: smut, mdni, im still putting ooc here, binding, biting (i'm still thinking tell me if smth needs to be added), rough sex (?), oral sex, use of y/n

(starts under the cut!)

‧₊˚⋅📃✎ᝰ..𖥔 ݁ dazai osamu

୨୧ loves binding you with random things that are flexible near him, like a tie or his bandages and things like that

୨୧ dazai just tangles his hand in your hair and like weaves through the strands and he doesn't want to pull his hand out so just pulls your hair and stuff

୨୧ if you ask him to be gentle, he compiles immediately and starts slowing down his relentless thrusts

୨୧ likes preparing you first (using his skilled fingers)

୨୧ when you're all wet he just invites himself

୨୧ pm!dazai would have done gunplay occasionally

scenario:

"bella- shit, you feel so, so, good, baby, yeah- god," dazai moans, his pace not slowing down, but becoming faster, which was what you hadn't expected.

a few whimpers and moans escape your lips, turning the taller on more, "'s-'samu, s-shit, slow down," you whimper some more as dazai hoists a leg on to his shoulder, allowing him to reach deeper places into your hole.

you scream, only to be stopped by two fingers going into your mouth. "shush, bella, yosano-san will find out. you certainly don't want that, do you?"

you shook your head in response, tears rapidly flowing down and reaching the crumpled sheets. although you cried, it was because of both the pain and the pleasure that your boyfriend was giving you.

"osamu..." you mumble as he slowed down his pace to an actually bearable one. "you're too harsh on me."

"oh? is that so?" he grinned and started to fasten his pace once again. "hmm?"

"o-osamu-! fuck-" as your pretty mewing and moans reached his ears, he grabbed a string of bandage on the nightstand next to you and tied your hands with it. "-osamu?"

"mm, you look more delightful than ever like this, bella." the man smirked.

"shall the show officially begin, now?"

‧₊˚⋅📃✎ᝰ..𖥔 ݁ edogawa ranpo

୨୧ into foodplay is the first thing i'll say

୨୧ loves sucking on tits too (literally his favorite thing to do what am i on about)

୨୧ loves sex after a tired day at work (like MINOURA or new people insulting him and stuff) (by insulting i mean saying that he isn't a good enough detective)

୨୧ sex between the both of you always starts with a make out session and then (and then) BOOM you strip and the good part starts

୨୧ he is a lazy bottom for real but when he's mad/frustrated oh boy you bouta see some stars

୨୧ loves when you top him

scenario:

quite a while had passed since you were bouncing on his on his cock, your moans and his combining into a harmony that was unique on the world, and only happens once a week or so.

ranpo had come home from a bad day, a frustrating one. you had always tended to his needs when it came to to tired days. and the same applies for you.

"mm...you look so nice bouncing like that f'me, sugar," the raven-head grins as he aids you with his hand.

you moan prettily, as you say, "ranpo- ngh-"

his moans get louder as he goes closer to reaching his peak. a while more after, you come with him closely following you in the motion. "well, sugar," his chest heaves up and down. "did you enjoy it?"

"m-mhm," you nod, unable to speak too much.

"well," he flips you around, now him on top of you as he puts the lollipop he was sucking in your mouth.

"let's begin round two."

‧₊˚⋅📃✎ᝰ..𖥔 ݁ nakahara chuuya

୨୧ not into gunplay, just because he's in the mafia, doesn't mean he has to be into gunplay right?

୨୧ is really soft with you once you warm up and stuff

୨୧ doesn't really have kinks

୨୧ had this one time he used his ability to pin you down

୨୧ active bottom? maybe. likes being in control more, though

୨୧ loves giving oral

scenario:

"doll, y/n, you're taking me so good, fuck-" chuuya groans in pleasure as your throat contracts and takes his length fully.

"ngh-" you couldn't really speak, considering...his dick was down your whole throat.

the red-head threw his head back as his eyes shut close, all while waves of pleasure overwhelmed his whole body and took over him.

your gaze went up, and observed chuuya. it was as if he had no more self-restraint at all. his gloved hand was tangled in your h/c hair, as he subconsciously massaged your scalp.

your groans met chuuya's sensitive ears and the sounds only turn him on more.

"sweetheart- ngh, fuck, s'good-" he felt some weird feeling gather at the bottom at his spine. was it his orgasm coming? perhaps. but in that moment, nothing mattered. in this world, you are his only pillar. you are his life. you are his everything.

one last moan and he came in your mouth, and less than a few seconds later, you also came. he pulled out as he watched his cum drip from his tip, and you swallowing the bodily fluid your hot session had produced.

"you were so good, doll." chuuya tenderly wiped a few beads of sweat off your forehead.

"i-" you swallowed your saliva, "it felt...good. maybe we should try again some other time, chuu."

"'s that so?" he smiled.

"we should end the night here. we're tired, after all."

©all banners, dividers, and stories are made by marikosenwrites and the pictures in it are from pinterest. i own none of the bungo stray dogs/bungou stray dogs/文豪ストレイドッグス characters mentioned here. all rights reserved, please do not steal.

mdni banner taken from @cafekitsune! (their work is much appreciated)

[greedystevie]

WARM ME UP

not as it seems part two

college!steve x college!fem oc

summary: you and steve are doing homework but you cant seem to concentrate

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) cock warming

word count: 1k

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

authors note: okay this is actually a little bit of a novel i've been working on but i named one of the main character's steve so now i just keep thinking about steve harrington whenever i write for it so this is not a y/n insert but i don't describe the fem!main character in any specific way so go and imagine yourself :) but also don't be surprised if this disappears in the future

Thomasina was impatiently waiting for Steve to be done with his essay. She herself had given up on working for the night when she heard the string of curses drip from his mouth. It had turned her on so feverishly that now she was pacing around the perimeter of the living room. She was actually slightly surprised that he hadn’t popped his head up to wonder what she was doing, but he was so focused at the island in the kitchen why should he.

The glow of his laptop, the buzzing from the red bull through her veins. It was becoming too much. She needed him. She needed him now. Chewing on the inside of her lip Thomasina silently moved towards him. Swaying back and forth when she didn’t dare come any closer. Legs stiff as boards, trying not to rub them together and feed the temptation without him. Reaching out to touch his shoulder, hand hovering over it for a few seconds before crash landing on its surface.

Jumping up startled Steve pulled out his earphones, big eyes staring into her needy ones. “What is it?” He asked, concerned. Hand coming to wrap around her thigh. Sending shivers through her body.

“I really need you baby,” she dragged out. Biting her bottom lip.

Steve knew she was serious because she never calls him baby- ever. “You can’t wait?”

Thomasina shook her head no.

“Shit Tom cat,” he sighed heavily. “I’m in the final stretch,” Thomasina mewed when he said those words. “Really? You’re that horny?” She nodded in return. “Fuck. Come here.”

Steve pulled Thomasina by the hip to between his legs. Gently he brushed his hand across the front of her thigh towards her pussy, before his fingers even reached it he could feel how wet her underwear had become. “Oh baby,” he whined. “You really need me.”

Thomasina hummed as her body started to vibrate from his touch. “Whoa calm down baby,” Steve chuckled. Removing his hand from her sensitivity. She pouted, yearning for his return. “Be patient my love.”

“I’m trying,” Thomasina whined.

“Well try harder,” he said, getting off the barstool. Pulling down his sweatpants and boxer briefs in one go. Sitting back on the stool he motioned for Thomasina to come closer. “You ready Tom cat?”

“For what?”

“You ready to be taken care of?” He said through a few breathy gasps as he pumped himself enough to get hard.

“Always.”

Steve took action, taking her clothing away from her hips and down to her ankles. She stepped through the holes in her garments ready for whatever surprise he had in store for her. “Alright babygirl come here,” Steve picked her up off of the floor. Hovering over his semi-hard member he set her down on top of him. Sliding into her perfectly like a puzzle piece.

Before she had the chance to react Steve brought his warm finger to her mouth, “are you going to be a good girl and wait until I am done?”

“Yes sir,” Thomasina nodded softly into his hand. Leaning into his chest as she wrapped his arms around him for balance.

Pulling his laptop towards him Steve feverishly worked to finish while Thomasina was cooing into his ear. Every once in a while he would bring a hand up, rubbing along her spine. It drove her absolutely crazy. Vaginal walls pulsating around his cock causing him to moan loudly. “Shit,” Thomasina whispered in his ear. Breathing heavily, “I’m sorry baby.”

“No babes, it’s my fault for torturing both of us. I should’ve known how you would react,” he breathed in sharply. Tapping at the keys on the laptop one more time before closing it for the night.

When she heard the snap of the laptop close Thomasina moved to look at Steve’s face. “Did you finish?”

“No.”

“Am I that distracting?” Thomasina pouted.

“Yup,” Steve nodded. Digging the pads of his fingers into the sides of her hips so hard he left his fingerprints indented in her skin. Lifting her off of him and gently setting her back on the floor. Getting out of the seat, leaving his pants under its legs. Grabbing Thomasina’s hand dragging her to the bedroom.

Ripping open the drawer to the bedside table picking out a condom. Opening it, rolling the rubber onto his erection and sitting down on the plushy mattress. Patting his lap ready for Thomasina to ride him once more.

Sliding her knees onto the mattress, one on either side of his legs. Steve massaged his cock back into the comfortable blanket that was Thomasina’s pussy, still warm from his last visit. “Oh fuck,” he moaned into her ear when she started to grind her hips against him. “You are going to kill me one of these days.”

“Only if you don’t kill me first,” she whispered into his neck. Letting the sensation of pleasure completely overtake her senses.

Humping his lap harder, faster nails digging into his back. Voice growing ever higher pitched with every new sound that erupts from her lungs. Steve repaid the sentiment by tightening his grip on her hips. Guiding her the way he wanted her, not that she always took direction.

“Stevie,” Thomasina panted.

“Yeah baby?”

“Stevie,” she surprised him by pushing him back onto the bed. Practically screaming as she took her new freedom to bounce faster on top of him.

“Woah Tom cat,” Steve found his grip on her hips again. “Don’t have too much fun without me,” he chuckled. Finding a more comfortable position for the both of them.

“Pussy,” she smacked his chest lightly. “You could’ve finished with your ass hanging off the bed. You could’ve finished if we fell onto the floor. I know you, nothing could ever possibly stop you,” she smirked down at him.

“Ugh,” he moaned loudly. “You are such a dirty girl, I love it.” He moved his hand up Thomasina’s torso, sending shivers up and down her spine. Rubbing circles at her sides that made her weak in the knees.

“You bitch,” she breathed. Vagina pulsating around his cock, ready to cum all over it. “I’m gonna-“

“Me too baby.”

[gingerjunhan]

Happy new years! I hope you have a great 2024! This is actually my first time requesting ever so... 😅

May I request Junhan teaching us how to play guitar but we fail miserably and it just ends in cuddles? I'm desperate for some more Junhan fluff.🥰

Also may i be your 🥥 anon?

☆彡 hi 🥥anon! I’m your first request ever? 🥹 OMGGGG welcome!!!!!! Sorry this took me so long to post, but I hope you enjoy it!

word count: 494 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: frustration, they are so cute :(, not proofread, lmk if I missed something

“I don’t understand why it doesn’t sound right!” You huffed.

“You just need to press down on the strings harder, that’s all.”

Hyeongjun had been trying to help you learn an easy guitar song for the past half hour, and it’s been an adventure to say the least. You had started off with a twinkle of excitement in your eye as you asked Hyeongjun to help you, but now you were just getting angry.

“I’m pressing as hard as I can!” You looked at Hyeongjun who was sitting across from you on his mattress, and you could tell that he was finding all of this very amusing. He’s been very patient with you- because he’s been in this position before- but there were a few times that he had to bite back a laugh.

“Do you want my help?” He asked, gently reaching one of his hands towards yours to help you press down on the strings.

“No!” You protested, causing him to pull his hand back with a laugh. “I can do it!”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Only if you’re sure.”

Despite your continued struggle, your effort was admirable. Your willingness to learn was one of the things that Hyeongjun loved most about you. He watched as you stared at the neck of the guitar, making sure your fingers were placed on the right fret of each string, pressing as hard as you could. You readjusted your pick in your other hand, and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” you looked up at him. “Watch this.” With confidence, you strummed down on the strings, emitting a sour sound from the instrument. You groaned in defeat as Hyeongjun finally failed at holding back his laughter. “That’s it!” You proclaimed, “I need a break.”

Hyeongjun gently took the guitar from you, getting up and putting it in its stand across the room. You flopped down on the bed, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. Once again, Hyeongjun laughed as he made his way back over to you.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” He asked while crawling his way into your arms.

“No,” you sighed again. “It’s just frustrating. You make it look so easy.

He chuckled, “Practice makes perfect.” His hands moved soothingly up and down your back as you relaxed in his hold. There was a silence between you both for a moment before you pulled your left hand between the two of you.

“My fingers hurt.”

“Here,” Hyeongjun smiled. “Let me see.” He gently took your hand, glancing over your fingertips. He smirked to himself before gently giving each of your fingertips a light kiss. “Better?”

You blushed as you looked at him, unable to miss the playful look on his face. You buried your face into his chest and wrapped your arm around him again, trying to hide your blush from him. He moved one of his hands to your hair, gently combing it through his fingers.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Arthur's sacrifice

The White flag- pure smut. Little plot in this chapter. Filomena x Luca

______________________________________________________________

____________________________Smut_____________________________________

 Luca pushed his little brunette finance up against the door to his bedroom. 

 He tore at her black coat as she tried to free herself from the woolen belt tying her all together. Once she found out Polly was sneaking her over to see him, well she had decided to change. 

He groaned and looked up at the ceiling. Thanking God above for his girl. When he looked back down she was biting her red lip and grinning at him, her large brown eyes glittering with mischief.

“You remembered Tesoro.” She giggled at him. She knew he loved her in pinks, lavenders and white lace undergarment. She’s chosen a pink lacey slip that barely covered anything. She’d chosen her favorite. The little pink piece with lace that dripped down her thighs. 

It really was a tiny slip of a thing, The front cut low to show off her cleavage and barely covered her bum. He slipped his warm calloused fingers under each delicate strap on her slim shoulders. He bent down and kissed her collarbone and neck as her hands went to his shirt fiddling with the buttons to free him of his starched prison. 

He’d dropped her undergarments to the ground and tossed them unceremoniously to his bed. 

She mewed when his hands dipped into her soft warm folds.Her hands wandering through his thick black hair pulling him closer to her.

“Oh, I missed your hands.” She moaned into his neck. 

“Just my hands?” His nose bumps her face and he deepens the kiss to make  her silent. His fingers continued to prep her until he felt her getting close, her breathing was erratic. 

He pulled away  from her completely and stripped. She eagerly drank in the sight of his strong tall naked body infront of her.  She followed to the edge of his bed when his arm extended out to her in an invitation to join him on the mattress. 

“Lay down.” He growled low and deep into her ear and he flipped her onto her back. She spreads her legs first then lays back and arches. He climbed eagerly on top of her, gently pushing in. 

No time to waste. She devoured him with her mouth, nails and greedy fingers massaging every inch of him that she could grab as he bucked into her.

She yelped as he pushed her legs up and smacked her ass. 

He thrust into her with abandon. It had been far too long since they’d been able to physically couple together. 

She let out a string of curses in Italian as he came with her hot and heavy. 

She lay there panting for several minutes snuggled into his sheets mingling her scent with his. He’d mentioned something about not having enough time with her. 

“I’m not ready to leave.” She pouted. She wasn’t. Their little lovemaking session was going to make it harder for her to want to leave him again. 

“We gotta eat and join the party, common, get dressed.” He tossed her dress at her. She still let it smack her in the face. The what?!

“A party!? She sat straight up clutching the sheet in horror. “ Do you think they heard us!” She was practically hysterical. 

“Oh, Cara Mia, God heard us.” He shot her a cocky grin before opening the door. Soft music and chatter filled the hallway. 

“Luca!” She scolded as she bounced off the bed trying to get dressed quickly. 

“Of course we're having a party, it’s Christmas Eve.You didn’t see all the people and cars? You were only looking at me huh. I’m flattered.” His hand went to his chest as if she had said the sweetest thing to him. His smile was of the devil however. 

“Luciano Changretta!” She ran to his mirror and straightened out her garments and fussed with her hair quickly. 

“You weren't complaining a minute ago.” He laughed as he pulled her towards the door.

“Your bedroom is right by the kitchen!” She fussed, embarrassment painting her cheeks as red as her lush lips.  

“Yes, and?” He counted as he pushed her gently to the kitchen door. “Relax Filomena. It was expected. I promise.” 

“We made Lasagna, Struffoli and Panettone.” His mother called from the kitchen. Her favorite dishes on Christmas. Her stomach growled with anticipation. He chuckled and pushed her inside. He was hungry too after all that. 

_______________________________________________________

“Better?” Polly asked her niece as she skipped into the kitchen looking flustered.  She nodded and glanced over the table at all the food. 

Luca was leaning on the counter talking to Matteo and his mama. He winked at her and pointed to the plates.

“Got your business stuff done.” Filomeana asked out of breath hoping to change the subject. 

“Yes, I think it was very successful, like your venture.” Polly goaded, earning merry laughter from everyone in the small room. 

“Stop!” she yelled as she shoved a cookie in her aunt's face. 

“So, do you want to know what we’ve all agreed to?” Audry asked, addressing her son in particular. 

"Including  uncle Tommy and my father?” Filomena knew those two men were the ultimate say in whatever deal had been struck. After all, she legally belonged to her father Arthur Shelby, at the moment. Even if she’d promised herself to Luca Changretta. When she’d accepted his proposal.  

“He will once we get enough Whiskey in him and your father. Shouldn’t take long.” Polly grinned at her and took a big bite of lasagna. 

Filomena wandered over to her man and took a big bit off his fork. He swatted at her hand and moved his plate. 

“Get your own. Go on.” He scolded. She pouted at him. 

“Luciano Changretta! I’ll get you a plate, Nuora.” Audrey smacked her son's leg and moved him to grab her a fork. “ You're going to have to share with her soon enough.” He shrugged offhandedly. 

“Anyway, back to business at hand. While he was busy stuffing you with his cock, Audrey and I decided your wedding would end the vendetta.” Filomena stood still in shock at her Aunt's choice of wording.The Italian men hooted and hollered smacking Lca with congratulation. She was going to murder her aunt tonight. 

“Would the men agree?” Filomena asked, choking on her dessert. 

“Yes, it saves lives and Tommy’s pride won't be hurt. Your fathers feelings will but…You’ll have time to plan.” 

“I already have though. I brought my mama’s dress over from Italy, I made my veil. I just need a chapel, a priest and some flowers.” She said, earning a nod from her man. 

“We’ll, Audry, how quickly can we pull that off.” Polly asked the other women. She was rushing around the kitchen refilling everyone’s wine. 

“Probably a month to get everyone invited and booked.” She said. They really had talked while the other two had been busy. 

“ Will they behave for a month?” Filomena asked, obviously concerned. It was a lot of time for the other side to spitefully attack or egg the other into a verbal confrontation. 

“You leave that to me. I’ll make sure they do!” Polly said sure of herself. 

“Okay, January it is then.” Filomena said out loud. It didn’t sound like much time when she verbalized the timeline. 

“Tell Tommy to wave the dowry. I have more than enough to keep her comfortable.” Luca added. Polly scoffed at him disapprovingly.  

“Luca!” All the women scold him.

“I can keep her comfortable and her belly full. Don't need him for that.” He added curtly. 

She blushes as the women laughed around them

“If you can keep her belly, well rounded The Shelby men will have no choice.” Polly said, causing Filomena to drop her plate. What had gotten into her aunt tonight!

“Then I guess she's coming over more often huh?” Luca chuckled  and put his plate down to help her find a broom. 

_____________________________________________________________

[fadelbison]

PLEASE write sandray as old endangered turtles trying and absolutely failing to get mating right to the consternation of 20 conservationists I'm begging you

you have to understand that not a single person in the actual fandom wants to read this but you are the reason the sun shines in the morning so here you go: Title: Logbook of a Conservationist Scorned Pairing: SandRay, TopMew, BostonNick Rating: G (R if you're a tortoise) Summary: What does two ancient tortoises, an Engineering Student and a murderous parrot have in common? Simply, they're all out to ruin Mew's life. Note: Their pronouns are what they are, they’re tortoises free of social dogma. Suffice to say, I am not a conservation biologist and I know nothing of tortoises or parrots.

---

Part 1: "Ray knows how to be alone. He's good at it. Alone, he doesn't have to think about love or wonder if he's worthy of it. Alone, he can live with the peace he's made with himself, away from all the flaws that would be reflected in another's eyes. In Sand's eyes, that only seem to hold contempt for him, seeing with shocking clarity the ways that he fumbles and the ways that he disappoints.

Ray has convinced himself that he likes the solitude of his enclosure, the bounty of mealtimes that he gets to keep for hims-"

Professor Yo sighs loudly, her hands going the bridge of her nose to indicate the start of a headache, "Mew, what the fuck."

"I don't think you can talk to me like that." Mew says, leaning back into the chair he's in, sulking.

"I don't think your committee will approve fucking tortoise fanfiction in lieu of a thesis." She bites back unimpressed. "There is only so many ways I can write Specimen 5675 and 5676 refused to move an inch from the corners of their mating enclosure"

Professor Yo sighs again, "And yet when auditors from the National Science Foundation will want records of your notebook that is the only thing they'll want to read."

"You don't know every auditor at the NSF" "Mew!"

"Fine. Fine. I'll write it up properly. I'll be sure to add how you live a life entirely devoid of joy or whimsy in the footnotes." Professor Yo ignores his jibe, "Good and the condition of 5676's sperm?" Mew rolls his eyes but doesn't argue, it's her job to ask after all, "sperm count above average, motility excellent, pH and morphology normal. Look they haven't so much as looked at each other in three weeks, not since The Incident. Sand's sperm is not the problem."

"And artificial insemination?"

"Ray doesn't take to injection. It's not an uncommon phenomenon in tortoises. Not only is this species critically endangered but we know too little about their mating practices even from closely related species. You need to let me take them out of their enclosure." Professor Yo nods as appeasingly as she can, “I understand your point but we have to prove that we have exhausted all insemination strategies to the department before they'll approve our liability waiver. Have we?” Mew tries his best not to roll his eyes, “I’ve injected him at various times of the day, tried differend food combos, simulating known tortoise mating rituals before too-

“Mew, have we or have we not exhausted all avenues of artificial insemination?” They stare each other down for a few long moments before Mew gives in, “Fine I’ll contact the engineering department.” He leave's the office as haughtily as he can.

~ From: mew32@xyz.edu To: engineering-PHD-list-serve@xyz.edu Subject: Looking for collaborators on tortoise prosthetics project

Dear all, I am Mew, a fourth year PhD candidate in the Biology Department and doing my thesis on the mating behaviors of local tortoises and reptiles. A chapter of my thesis is dedicated to achieving the successful mating of a critically endangered tortoise species housed within our department's Animal Husbandry program. One of our current strategies, is to make a prosthetic mating apparatus to help our tortoise Ray on his wonderful journey to motherhood. I am looking for a dedicated engineering student who can help me build this apparatus. We can pay a small consultation fee along with my eternal gratitude (paper authorship negotiable). Looking forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Mew

~ From: ttanin5@xyz.edu  To: mew32@xyz.edu RE: Subject: Looking for collaborators on tortoise prosthetics project

Before I agree I want to make sure I’m getting this right. You want to make a tortoise dildo? Best,

T ~ A/N: I haven't forgotten about the muderous parrot

A/N2: As promised murderous parrot appears in Part 2

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Chapter 27 || Chapter 28 || Chapter 29 || From the Beginning || Patreon >>

Chapter 28

Exhausted, Crowflight found himself flopping down in his nest in the rain dens as soon as he entered camp. There was little protest to this, but Crowflight had sharp words prepared for any cat who might try to stop him.

His eyes were drooping shut as Duskwhisker entered the den behind him, and he was almost entirely asleep when she wrapped herself around him and lapped soothingly at his ears. The gesture was kind and sweet, and Crowflight let it carry him into the abyss of sleep.

The rest was dark and dreamless, and when Crowflight woke he found that the day had disappeared entirely. He opened his eyes to predawn light, alone in the rain den, warm and cozy in his nest with a vole beside him that smelled of Duskwhisker.

He thanked StarClan, both for the dreamless sleep and the thoughtfulness of his friend. Crowflight devoured the vole in a few quick bites, too hungry to do much else. His mind still buzzed, but instead of exhaustion, Crowflight felt like he had gotten too much sleep.

Crowflight stared out of the den with concern. Had he slept right through the return of the medicine cats?

As he left the den, the remains of his vole in his mouth, he found that he had not – but he understood why he had not been bothered by his Clanmates for sleeping for so long.

Every cat seemed to be in camp, and every one of them seemed tense and alert. Counting, Crowflight guessed that no cat had been assigned a patrol yet – in fact, Onewhisker was nowhere to be found. Crowflight guessed he was in his den.

They’re all waiting to see if the Moonpool is real. Crowflight knew it was real, that StarClan was there and willing to speak from it, but no one else had that certainty, and until they did, it was clear they were not going to feel very secure.

Crowflight spotted Ashfoot outside of the medicine cat’s den, and started towards her. He stopped by the fresh-kill pile, exchanging his prey-bones for a mouse he might gift to his mother. As he rifled for a fresher morsel, Crowflight’s fur prickled – the fresh-kill pile was quite low. Had no cat gone hunting even yesterday?

With the freshest mouse he could find dangling from his jaws, he trotted over to Ashfoot. His mother was grooming herself beside the entrance to the medicine cat’s den, her wound finally free of cobwebs and poultices. The sight of the gnarly scabbing made Crowflight’s stomach twist – she wasn’t at all out of the woods yet.

“For me?” Ashfoot guessed, glancing up at him.

Crowflight nodded, laying the mouse beside her paws. “Have you already eaten?”

Ashfoot shook her head, and drew the fresh-kill close. “I’ve been too nervous,” she admitted. “But I think everyone else is that way, right now.”

Crowflight curled himself around his mother and took over grooming her pelt. She smelled of dried herbs and dirt, a scent that reminded him of Shadepaw, a little. He carefully avoided the scab of her wound.

“Are you still in pain?” he asked.

“Sometimes, if I stretch wrong,” Ashfoot answered. She bit into her mouse, tearing off its leg. “Barkface wants to keep me just a little longer, to ensure that the scab is good and tight. StarClan, but it itches!”

Crowflight purred. “You’re still not allowed out of camp?” he guessed.

Ashfoot shook her head, her eyes flashing with frustration. “Not yet,” she sighed. “But at least I can leave the den to take a walk – and I can give all of you orders again. That’s most important, I think...”

“So, why haven’t any patrols gone out yet?” he questioned. “Did not even Onewhisker assign anyone?”

Ashfoot frowned, and she nudged her mouse with a paw. “He hasn’t come out yet,” she mewed. “He’s waiting for Barkface... We all are.”

Crowflight glanced around camp. As the icy winds whistled overhead, he could see his Clanmates milling about in the dark. Even the apprentices were awake, huddled up together just outside their den with their heads bent in conversation. Over by the nursery, Robinwing’s muzzle poked out of the nursery to talk with Smokewillow and Poppyfoot. Emberstep and Duskwhisker were curled around one another on the opposite side of camp, with Tornear and Softbreeze a pace away. Webfoot and Bramblefur met with Whitetail and edged closer to the nursery, their eyes flashing.

At the top of one of the hills, above the elder’s den, Mudclaw stood with his body against the wind. He was staring down at the Clan below, his expression impossible to see in the dark. Behind him the rowan bent and rattled against the icy chill.

“He should be back any time,” Ashfoot mewed. “And then...”

Crowflight saw her claws slide in and out. He laid a paw over his mother’s and meowed, “It’ll be okay, Ma...”

Ashfoot threw him a skeptical look. Another gust of wind howled above. Her nose pressed against his, and she sighed, “No matter what happens, Crow, know that I love you, okay?”

Crowflight’s heart beat in his ears. “I love you, too,” he insisted. “But nothing is going to happen, okay? Okay?”

He wanted to believe it, and he saw that she did, too – but it was more than obvious. The tension in the camp clung like ice over water, and it was waiting for just the right moment to shatter into a million little pieces.

Crowflight swallowed the bitter cold air. He looked at the camp around him, and thought of how far it had come – the gully choked with bushes and debris had become a full-fledged camp, with strong gorse walls and dens made of strong branches and packed tight with mud and leaves to keep warmth inside. The hills that cut the wind, the rowan tree that stood proudly over a camp that Crowflight had hardly noticed was finished – was home - until now.

And, depending on who goes to the Moonpool tonight, that might all change...

As sunlight broke through a gap in the dark, snowy clouds, the gorse bushes at the camp entrance waved. Every cat in the Clan stiffened and turned their heads as Barkface and Ryewhisper pushed their way through. Both looked exhausted, but neither looked disappointed.

Silence hung in the air as Barkface and his apprentice strode into camp. Ryewhisper seemed keenly aware of the tension in camp, and he stuck close to his mentor, his eyes wide. Barkface was doing his best to look oblivious to it all as he walked towards the Tallstone.

A shadow on the edge of Crowflight’s vision moved – Mudclaw came down from the hilltop, rounding the elder’s den to join the rest of the Clan. Emberstep, Softbreeze, Tornear, and Duskwhisker moved to join him. On the other side of camp, Whitetail gathered up her supporters – though Robinwing stayed in the nursery, watching with round eyes but unwilling to come out into the sheer cold.

Barkface’s scent must have touched Onewhisker in his den, as the lean tabby slid out of the darkness beneath the Tallstone. He met Bakface’s gaze as the old tom stopped, wordlessly asking the question that was on every cat’s mind.

Barkface took a deep, steadying breath.

“The Moonpool is real,” he announced, his voice carrying on the cold winds. “We have made contact with StarClan. For her discovery, Shadepaw received her full name – Shadepool.”

Instead of the excited murmurs and conversation that might’ve followed such an announcement, Crowflight was shocked to hear nothing at all. Cats looked at one another, eyes round with anticipation.

Shadepool... Crowflight, at least, thought it was a beautiful, fitting name.

Crowflight’s tongue felt dry. Beside him, Ashfoot seemed stiff as a frozen rabbit as she waited for what was to come next. Crowflight saw her claws tearing into her mouse, pulling it to pieces.

“And?” Onewhisker asked, his breath moving off in clouds before his muzzle.

Barkface lowered his stumpy tail. “StarClan has approved a casting of stones.”

At those words, Ryewhisper moved off, slipping past Ashfoot and Crowflight to head into the medicine cat’s den.

“Finally,” growled Mudclaw. He stepped forward, now, his shoulders hunched and his eyes bright. “Now even StarClan has changed their minds...”

Barkface flattened his ears. He ignored Mudclaw and turned to face the rest of the Clan, raising his voice: “Cats of WindClan, come forward – each and every one of you!”

As the cats drew forward, forming a ring around the clearing, Barkface meowed on, “A casting of stones is an ancient WindClan tradition, created by our founder Windstar herself. Whenever there is a decision that is too difficult for any one cat to make, that decision must be made – and its repercussions borne – by the whole of the Clan.”

There was a grunt from the medicine cat’s den. Ryewhisper emerged tail-first, dragging out a large sheaf of rowan bark that was littered with tiny, smooth stones, ones that looked to be from the lakeshore. When the bark strip was safely out of the den, Ryewhisper rounded it and began to push it forward with his nose, until it rested beside Barkface.

“The last casting of stones was seasons upon seasons ago,” Barkface yowled, “when Heatherstar and her Clan voted to put an end to tunneling beneath WindClan’s old territory. I was but a fresh apprentice then, but I still recall it vividly:

“Every cat in the Clan can participate, with an exception for kits. Any cat may choose to step aside and abandon their choice – but they must live with the consequences, same as the rest.”

With a claw, Barkface drew a line deep into the cold earth. He sat himself at the head of that line, opposite the place where Ryewhisper had put the stones. Barkface’s gaze regarded his Clanmates evenly. “One side, for Onewhisker; the other, for Mudclaw. Come, you two.”

Onewhisker stepped forward first, and took one of the stones in his mouth. He chose, and placed it on his side of the line, settling down beside it so that there was no question. Mudclaw did the same a moment later, stalking to the opposite end with a glint of satisfaction in his eye.

Barkface looked between them both. “You may each plead your cases, should you wish,” he offered. Beside him, Ryewhisper looked like he might rattle apart from nerves.

Crowflight dug his claws into the soil. It’s really happening, he thought. His heart hammered hard in his ears. Oh, StarClan, please... let this be the right thing!

Mudclaw spoke first, loud and proud: “That StarClan has chosen to cast stones is no greater sign to me that I was right – Onewhisker’s refusal to tell the truth of his appointment is an admittance to foul play.”

His gaze passed over the cats in the crowd. “I was your deputy for many long moons,” he growled. “I have the experience necessary to lead us now, in this new land; to keep us safe and fed and free of influences from the other Clans. Can Onewhisker say the same?”

“I never fancied leadership, that much is true,” Onewhisker countered, his tail lashing. “But when I was appointed, I did not shy away from my duty. I have made mistakes, and I will not deny it. WindClan never would have made it here if not for the help of the other Clans, and Tallstar knew that – the future that Mudclaw wants is one of isolation. The one I want is formed of cooperation!”

“I want strength for WindClan!” Mudclaw snapped, bristling. “We never would have made it here if not for the other Clans, that is true; but WindClan is not some kit in need of a mother! We are proud, and strong, and independent! We are free as the wind and swift as rabbits! We do not exist because of the other Clans, we exist beside them – that is what I want to return to us!”

Onewhisker narrowed his eyes. “And how would you pave the way to that future?” he snarled. “With bones and blood?”

“Enough,” Barkface decided firmly. He sighed, his gaze dark, and meowed, “Place your stones.”

Whitetail moved first. She picked a stone from the rowan bark and set it beside Onewhisker’s, moving to sit beside him. Webfoot did the same, not bothering to disguise his disgust as he stared over at Mudclaw.

Tornear went next, tossing his stone to Mudclaw’s side. When he sat beside the dark tabby, his glare was all for Webfoot. Softbreeze came next, flanked by Emberstep. The two she-cats put their stones beside Mudclaw’s.

Thornpaw strode forward then, her chest thrust out bravely. She picked up her stone and put it beside Mudclaw’s. Weaselpaw and Thistlepaw, as one, took their stones and made their way to Mudclaw’s side, too. The three huddled close, as if this were a decision they made as one.

Poppyfoot came next, and she put her stone beside Onewhisker. She sat with Whitetail, and kinked her tail towards the crowd. Out came Bramblefur and Smokewillow, who each picked up their stones and tossed them to Onewhisker’s side. Smokewillow returned to the sheet of bark and, with a glance at the nursery, put Robinwing’s stone beside his.

Duskwhisker came next. She picked up her stone and, with a glance at Crowflight, set it beside Mudclaw’s. She sat beside him with her tail wrapped over her paws tightly.

Crowflight felt Ashfoot move. She got to her paws and, stiffly, walked over to the stones. She put her stone beside Onewhisker’s, and then moved to sit at his side. Onewhisker gave her a grateful look, and she nodded in return.

Crowflight suddenly realized that not only were the sides evenly split, but he was also the only cat who had not voted. All eyes suddenly turned to him, and he felt them like a dozen prickers in his pelt.

“Ryewhisper and I have already decided that we will not vote,” Barkface meowed calmly. Beside him Ryewhisper nodded in confirmation. Barkface’s eyes rested on Crowflight. “It’s up to you, Crowflight.”

Crowflight thought he might faint. The wind whistled through his ears, chilling him to his core. He stared at each of the stones, and at his Clanmates behind them. He tried to swallow but couldn’t. He wanted to run, but he had promised Deadfoot and Shadepaw and himself that he wouldn’t - and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t leave things at such a strong tie.

Heart rattling in his mind, he padded towards the stones. Each step felt like it took an eternity, so aware he was of the gravity of this choice. It pressed down on him as if the old rowan had decided to come down onto his back.

Standing beside the trio of remaining stones, Crowflight placed his paw on one. It was smooth, round, gray and speckled with darker bits. It was barely the size of one of his paw pads, and it leeched the warmth from him as he touched it.

“Whether or not Onewhisker was chosen properly doesn’t matter at this point,” Shadepool’s voice meowed in his head. “Maybe it never mattered in the first place... All that matters is who is the cat that will lead WindClan into the best possible future.”

StarClan, let me make the right choice!

“Tallstar wanted a future that was bright and safe for WindClan,” Crowflight began. He was surprised by the strength of his voice. With both Onewhisker and Mudclaw staring at him, he thought he might sound like a rasping kitten. “When I learned that Twolegs were going to destroy our home, that’s all that I wanted, too.”

Crowflight took a deep breath. He stared directly at Mudclaw and meowed, “It doesn’t matter whether or not Onewhisker was rightfully appointed. What was said that day isn’t important in the least, either – they were words spoken between a dying cat and his oldest friend and the cat he thought was the best choice to lead his Clan into the future he desired. Those words should stay in the hearts of those that heard them.”

Mudclaw’s glare was thunderous, as dark as the sky above. Crowflight saw something thin and wiry snap in his gaze.

It’s too late to back down now.

Crowflight took the stone in his claws. “You two could have worked together – you should have. But now we must choose, and between the two of you... Onewhisker’s is the future that I want for WindClan. It’s the future that I worked for, the future that I lost a dear friend for - the one that I brought us here to live out.”

He tossed his stone over to Onewhisker’s side, where it clattered against the small pile until it lay at rest on the cold earth.

“We can be a strong, independent WindClan without forsaking our bonds with the other Clans,” Crowflight meowed on. He swept his gaze across every cat there. “We chosen cats may have journeyed here in one group, but we never would have made it without the skills and traditions of our individual Clans to aid us. We can keep our borders tight and our loyalty strong... and we can ask for aid and give it when necessary. It can go both ways.”

“He’s right,” Duskwhisker meowed, her voice shaky. “It can. It should.”

She took her stone and moved it over to Onewhisker’s side. Crowflight felt a rush of warmth towards his friend that almost knocked him off of his paws.

Mudclaw’s supporters shuffled. Tornear came forward then, with Thornpaw and the other apprentices at his heels. Three more stones cast towards Onewhisker. Tornear and Webfoot exchanged a glance, and then butted their heads together, relief in their eyes.

Only Emberstep and Softbreeze remained with Mudclaw now, and neither looked like they were about to budge. Snow began to fall, the sparse flakes landing in the clearing and catching on the grass.

“So that is how it will be, then,” Mudclaw growled.

“Yes,” Barkface said simply, “it is. The choice has been made, and the consequences must be lived with.”

Mudclaw bristled. He glared at each cat standing across from him, and then his gaze swept to Crowflight. The intensity was shocking, the fury and anger there as hot as flame. Crowflight thought then that Mudclaw would leap across the stones and try to rip out his throat.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you accept this, Mudclaw,” Barkface went on, his tone serious as he took in Mudclaw’s expression. “The stones have been cast, and the choice is made. Onewhisker is leader of-”

“Onewhisker is no leader of mine!” Mudclaw roared. His claws unsheathed, and his tail lashed. His paw slashed through his little pile of stones, scattering them across the clearing. Emberstep and Softbreeze, shocked, each took a step back from him. The other cats on Onewhisker’s side got to their paws, more than one of them looking ready to pounce.

“Mudclaw, stop this nonsense!” Onewhisker hissed. “If you don’t stand down, I will exile you from WindClan!”

“You should have done that moons ago, you hare-brained fox-heart! That’s your problem,” Mudclaw spat back. “There’s no spine behind your words! No strength, no substance!”

He raised his tail. Crowflight saw shapes appearing, lining the hill behind Mudclaw – cats from ShadowClan and RiverClan, outlined in the dark, stormy sky. He recognized Falcontail and his friends, Leafwhisker and Blackclaw, and his gut plummeted.

This was his plan all along!

“What is this?” Onewhisker yowled, eyes wide. “Mudclaw, what have you done?!” Fear-scent was filling the clearing, from every cat.  

“Oh, so it’s fine for you to make alliances with the other Clans, but not me?” Mudclaw sneered. He strode forward, his tail lashing. “I didn’t want it to go this way, Onewhisker, but Crowflight said that we can have it both ways - so have it both ways we shall - attack!”

[heechwe]

home sweet home | 𝐥𝐣𝐡

୨୧ pairing: lee (hyunjae) jaehyun x fem!reader || ୨୧ word count: 0.3k || ୨୧ genre: smut, fluff || ୨୧ tags: dirty talk, marking, heavy petting, fingering || ୨୧ synopsis: "Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me." + "Have I told you I love you yet today?"

↪ WANT A DRABBLE DIARY ENTRY? REQUEST ONE.ᐟ

“Have I told you I love you yet today?” Jaehyun asks when he encases you in his arms on his arrival home from the studio. He’s said it as much as he always does: every chance he gets.

I’m at practice but I should be home soon. I love you.

Why is the day taking so long? I love you.

Do you need me to run to the grocery store on the way home? I love you.

You always placate his words of affirmation with your own or more extensive and creative wordplay. The task is easy to do because you love him just as much as he loves you, if not more.

“I think you have, once or twice,” you tease. You turn in his hold and kiss both of his cheeks tenderly. You sneak your kisses down to his neck, licking the skin only a fraction for your boyfriend to tremble under your touch.

“Oh honey,” he gasps. “You know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You shake your head, acting oblivious. You sit on the countertop of your kitchen island and continue your kisses south, Jaehyun’s collarbones exposed for you to bite on. “I’m not. Just showing you how much I love you.”

You take his hand and press it between your legs, your bottom half naked underneath your large T-shirt. You’ve been waiting all day for him, every “I love you” slamming you hard in the center of your thighs. “You’ve told me all day, but show me how much you love me, Hyunie.”

In a matter of seconds, he has three fingers buried inside of you, the side of your neck in his hand, and his mouth against yours, more declarations of love coming off of his tongue as you come.

And with the way he loves you so, you know the night is far from over.

@yvnempire @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[violetsandfluff]

Angel Baby

summary: sub!shawn gets railed senseless by dom!reader

trigger warnings: smut, degradation, mean stuff that probably isn’t written well, and only a tiny bit of aftercare. mommy kink, oral, handjob, cum, and more. this is definitely darker and spicier than anything else i have written, but i hope at least some people enjoy it. this isn’t proofread because i don’t think i can handle rereading it. bottom line: grammar mistakes guaranteed.

word count: 2.2k of plotless smut

‘

Shawn held a pillow tightly between his legs, his thighs tiring out from the strain. His hips bucked against it as he tried to get himself off discreetly. His lips roamed tentatively around your neck, uncertain of how much you would let him do to you.

He was horny, desperate for any taste of you that he could get. His cock was pulsing and he bit his lip to stifle a moan, stimulated by the friction and heat the pillow was providing for him. He was imagining you; everything he loved about you.

He was imagining how tight you were and how you squeezed his cock when he pushed it into you, arousal dripping all around him. He was remembering how good it felt to have you cum on him, your walls fluttering against his erect length as the warmth washed over him, pulling him along to euphoria. His fingers were tightening around the seam of the pillowcase as he visualized his fingernails digging into your hips as he gritted his teeth together and groaned in pleasure.

He was down hard, desperately needing to be rescued.

Biting his lip, he tried not to rock the bed as he relieved himself, but the look on his face was a dead giveaway. His eyebrows were furrowed, and there was a thin layer of sweat on his brow. He was breathing heavily and clearly holding in his sweet moans.

It was delicious to see him in that state. He was ready for anything that you did to him, whether it was gentle and affectionate or something wild and kinky. He was hungry for anything that would make him feel good, you in particular.

“Shawnie,” you said in a commanding voice as his tongue moved repeatedly against the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. “Poor neglected baby, do you need some attention?”

“Y-yes,” he stuttered breathlessly, jaw falling slack as he took you in. “I need you.”

“Looks like you’re doing just fine with that pillow,” you said bluntly. “Does it feel good?”

He nodded, his eyes widening in regret once he realized what he’d said. “But I want you more.”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“F-fuck me,” he gulped, pulling the pillow closer to his chest for comfort. “You always make me feel so good,” he added, in hopes of you going easier on him. After all, it was evident that he didn’t need very much.

“You want me to fuck you?”

Shawn whimpered, the sound coming from the top of his throat. “Y-yes, mama,” he said hurriedly. “Please, I need you so bad.”

You used the tip of your index finger to trace small lines on his hard tip, which was standing up prominently, even inside of his briefs and sweatpants.

His head fell back limply as a moan clawed its way out of his throat.

You smirked and cocked your head to the side. “I don’t know if you can handle me tonight,” you pointed out. “So easy, so hard for me.”

He let out a sound like a kitten mewing as he rubbed himself against your hand, creating his own friction. He was still thinking about your hips, your ass, your pussy, your moans. Every horny thought possible was racing through his mind, doing nothing to relieve the blood that was coursing to his hard shaft.

You put your fingers into his innermost waistband, his briefs, and pulled them down. His sweatpants came down with them, allowing his dick to slap up against his abs, tiny droplets of precum leaking from his tip.

You stared in awe for a moment before recovering, assuming your dominant role before Shawn realized you’d lost it.

His eyes were shut, eyelashes resting gently on his precious cheeks. “Thank you, mama,” he breathed.

“Don’t thank me just yet, puppy,” you said in a condescending tone. “You’ve got to agree to a few things first.”

Shawn let out a whine as he squirmed against your hand, which was now wrapped around his hardened shaft, your thumb tracing circles on its head, picking up the little drops of arousal that spilled from it.

He was ready to agree to anything, as long as it would result in him coming inside of you.

“You can’t cum until I say so, alright?” You stared directly into his eyes, watching as the beautiful lust-swelled orbs fell down to his lap nervously.

“Alright?” you repeated. “I need your words and your eyes, please.”

“Yes, mama,” he repeated, making shy eye contact. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

This was all the approval you needed. You moved your closed hand up and down his shaft, stimulating the sensation of thrusting in and out of something.

Shawn sighed as a soft groan fell from his lips, only to have your fingers pressed against his lips. The friction he was getting moments earlier had vanished.

“Save those noises for later,” you instructed. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Fuck me, mommy, please,” he begged, desperate to the point of tears. “I’ll be such a good boy. I want to cum in you, and I want to feel you cum on me…”

He could feel her stare penetrating him, he didn’t dare look up.

“I want to give you a baby,” he admitted, a red blush spreading over his cheeks and forehead.

“Oh, puppy,” she said severely, “what are those dirty thoughts doing in that pretty little mind of yours? Angels don’t think like that.”

“I’ll be such a good boy.”

“Good boys don’t talk like that.”

Shawn was near tears. He was so hard that it was painful. “I’m sorry, mama,” he choked. “I’ll be a good boy.”

“Gonna put a baby in me?” you mimicked. “And be a good boy at the same time?”

Shawn watched you carefully as you rolled over, and as soon as your legs were in the right position, he took the opportunity to push his hard cock into you.

You gasped at the force, exhaling sharply as you looked at his angelic face.

“Did I give you permission?”

Shawn lowered his head and whimpered, but never drew his cock from you. Just being inside of you made his hard state feel more bearable.

“I said, did I give you permission?”

“No, mama,” he answered, his eyes never meeting hers. “But I need you so bad.”

The catch in his voice is what convinced you to let him slide in and out of you a few times.

“Poor, needy baby,” you sighed. “You’re so horny, you can’t even thrust right.”

He looked at you with wondering eyes before he was thrown back against the cool white sheets with a force that made the bed bounce.

His cock slapped against his abs again, more precum oozing from its tip.

You had to admire him for a moment and take in how pretty he was with his honey-colored eyes, messy curls, and rock-solid dick. As soon as that moment was over, though, you began to ride him, pushing yourself onto his cock until it couldn’t go in any further. You did this repeatedly, never stopping.

Shawn was panting beneath you, struggling to buck his hips for added friction.

You let out a low growl as you felt a warm feeling swell deep within you. It would only be a matter of time until Shawn was cumming, so you had to make the most of it.

“Fuck,” he whined, trying to move away from you and escape the friction, but he had no such luck. “Fuck, baby, I need to cum.”

You ignored his words and continued bouncing up and down on his cock.

His thighs were shaking, his abs were tight, and a layer of sweat was spread all over him. A pool of arousal was accumulating where you were riding him, and it was dripping messily down his sides.

He loved looking at you while you rode him. Your face was so concentrated and experienced, yet free and youthful, and your tits bounced with you. Your hair was free and wild, and your pussy was tight around him, just the way he liked.

Your words were cutting him deeply tonight, but in all honesty, he found that incredibly sexy. He was a kinky fucker in general, turned on by the most pecular things, but degredation made him feel more aroused than anything else.

You were taking your dom role too especially serious tonight, never letting him squirm away from you. His received constant insults from you, which just made the burning sensation inside him grow. The more he struggled and squirmed beneath you, the more insults you’d hurl at him.

You were uncomfortably sweaty, unsure of how long you could continue your tantalizing speed, but you pushed on, driven by the look on your angel baby’s face.

He looked like he was in a lot of pain, but too afraid to show weakness. In your opinion, that was incredibly hot of him, and he deserved everything he felt.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his hips rocking shakily against yours, bruises covering them where he had made hard, repetitive contact with you. He could no longer hold it in, but you had one present left to give him.

“Hold it,” you commanded, voice ragged and hoarse from overuse. “I better not see a drop come out of you until I say so.”

Shawn bit his lip and held the feeling in obediently, trying to count how many times his heart beat during ten-second increments. He couldn’t. It was beating faster than a hummingbird flapped its wings.

Moving to lie beside him rather than on top, you rolled him over, just enough that his entire ass was showing. You took it in for a moment before reeling your hand back and slapping it against his pretty, firm cheeks. This action was repeated twice more, until you were satisfied by the handprint that was left behind.

A moan left his mouth after every sickening slap, the last one resembling a scream more, warning of his orgasm.

The sound threatened to make you cum on the spot, and your walls fluttered as a forewarning.

“Please,” he breathed hoarsely, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, rewarded by a brusque, “not yet,” from you.

You took his shaft in your hand and kneaded it while you watched the pain on his face evolve into something terrible.

“Cum, baby,” you instructed breathlessly, and he wasted no time. He filled you with his creamy cum within seconds, and everything else spilled out of you and pooled on the sheets, creating slick seascapes with the wrinkles.

“A-aren’t you gonna cum, mommy?” he stuttered, voice husky and exhausted. “Didn’t I make you feel good?”

You stared at him for a long moment before he started moving. He squirmed further and further down the bed, stopping when his head was at the same level as your pussy.

He took it into his mouth, licking the arousal from your enterance before poking his tongue up to taste what was going on inside.

“Naughty boy,” you taunted, unable to think of anything meaner to say. “Angels don’t participate in such dirty acts.”

Unmoved by your words, he sucked your clit into his mouth and swirled his tongue tantalizingly against it.

You could feel his teeth brushing on it, and the feeling was unbearable. A hefty moan warned him that you were about to cum, so he positioned his mouth so he could take all of it in. That was a hard job. It just kept coming, but he had tasked himself with consuming all of it, and he wasn’t about to give up.

It tasted so good to him, and it was so warm and silky going down his throat. He nearly fell asleep from relief and fatigue, but he stayed awake, needing to swallow often so as not to choke.

He deserved all of the pain for all of the times he’d edged you or lied to you, and he deserved all of the euphoria for the joy, love and orgasms he brought to your life. The kinky sex between the two of you was a double edged sword. It was often rough and harsh, causing the submissive one to scream or cry in pain, but it always ended in snuggles and endless hours of “I love yous,” repeated into the early hours of the morning.

“Open your eyes,” a gentle, caring voice broke through his thoughts.

He opened his eyes sleepily to see you standing over him, placing a cool, damp washcloth on his sweaty forehead. His eyes squeezed shut again to squeeze out a chain of hot, stinging tears.

“You made me feel so good,” you breathed as you snuggled closer to him, placing another washcloth on the back of his neck. “You’re such an angel.”

A soft smile danced on his lips momentarily, but he was unable to keep his eyes open. He fell asleep without saying a word, and all that was left for you to do was admire him.

His cheeks were rosy, and his lips were swollen, his head was heavy, and his eyes were tired. He was warm everywhere, a magnet for you.

You rested your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes, too, willing sleep to take you away. Clean up could wait. After all, the morning seemed to loom far away.

Taglist: @chocochipcookie305 @pamelagramm @fishingirl12 @monikamendes @butlerbliss

[ask-eden]

Eden: MY PATH WAS CHOSEN BY MY BROTHER!! YOU KNOW!! THE LITERAL MEWSISTANT TO ARCEUS?! The mew hisses and ears flick down in anger Eden: THERE WAS. NO. ISSUE. MY FIRST TYPING IS SUPPOSED TO BE CHOSEN BY- Dysnomia: TECHNICALLY... TECHNICALLY... your first type was STILL chosen for you... Just.. by ME... So TECHNICALLY still following the pat- Eden: CHOSEN BY A LEGENDARY OF HIGHER STANDING! SOMEONE WHO KNOWS WHAT THEY ARE DOING!! NOT SOME RANDOM GUY WHO DECIDED TO SNAG A MEW!!!! Dysnomia: I ALSO worked with Giratina! So I DO know my stuff! I’m not some run of the mill jackass out here you know! Eden: THAT DOESN’T COUNT. Also “WORKED”? So even GIRATINA fired you? Dysnomia was taken back a bit, biting his tongue, not knowing quite how to answer the question without revealing Giratina’s fate. That was news for later. Not now. Eden: GODS. YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL ME AREN’T YOU? SAY IT!! Dysnomia: NO.. I’m NOT trying to kill you. I would have snapped your neck before if that was my plan! Eden: WHAT?! WHO SAYS THAT TO SOMEONE Dysnomia looked away, biting their tongue again.  Why does everyone always freak out when he says stuff like that? It’s TRUE. If that WAS what he wanted to do, he would’ve done it! Just a fact! Why does everyone take it so badly. The sylveon’s eyes flickered back and forth, wondering what to say next. He didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire, worrying of working the mew up once more. The sylveon hissed under his breath, realizing what he would have to say. Dysnomia: Just... Alaxia made a mistake. I’m just trying to FIX it Eden: OH AND WHAT MISTAKE IS THAT EXACTLY?

Speaking kindly of Alaxia nearly brought bile into the sylveon’s mouth as they attempted to not straight up spit on his name. But it was the only thing left to try, as long as Eden was willing to listen. Dysnomia: NORMAL typing should be the FIRST thing you master. It is the BASIS of all pokemon. I just... think that Alaxia made a mistake when choosing your typing... because he just... Loves you so much and thinks the best! Dysnomia: Plus it wouldn’t be the first time Alaxia would be quick to forget the simpler of things... He’s a big busy guy! It probably just... slipped his mind is all! But It’s pointless to argue with someone who just.... adores their brother so much! There is a moment of silence between the two pokemon. Dysnomia trying to hide their gritting teeth. The mew in the tree digs his claws slightly into the bark. Eden: How do I know you aren’t lying to me. That you aren’t trying to trick me? You could have just talked to Alaxia about it, or ANYONE, if you felt it was wrong...  This could all just be one big tra- The mew could barely finish his sentence before something flew by his face, slamming into the trunk next to him.

Dysnomia: That’s all I’ve got. Whether or not you believe me, it’s up to you. Our fate is now in your hands.  The sylveon could barely hide how nervous they were as Eden picked up the communicator and stared at it. Dysnomia knew that if Eden would call Alaxia right then, his days would be over. Hell, the universe itself would be over. The Sylveon had never considered their own death before. But they had never thought it would be in the hands of a mew stuck in a tree. All the sylveon could do was sit in silence as Eden contemplated their decision.  Eden brings the device closer to his face with a frowning expression towards the sylveon. Dysnomia looks down at their feet, accepting their fate. They look away from the tree for a moment, not bearing to listen to the call that would end their life.

When suddenly there is a loud thump behind them, causing the Sylveon’s head to whip back towards the tree.

Dysnomia’s ears perk up instantly as the Mew stands up and stares at them. Eden: But if you try ANYTHING weird like that again. I WILL call Alaxia and he’ll uh... he’ll... DO... Whatever punishment they do for this... kinda thing! And I don’t wanna use... THIS! The mew waves the communicator in Dysnomia’s face in a threatening manner as they attempt to puff up their fur to seem intimidating.  Eden: I just wanna go on The Path... and Do... what I gotta do to help out. I don’t like you and I don’t think I’m gonna... But we... are... STUCK together... UNLESS YOU TRY SUMMTHIN! Dysnomia could only sigh in relief at the sight. Dysnomia: Got it. - - - - - - - Eden is now out of the tree and The Path can continue forward.

[ratmuffintherapy]

Hey! Discovered your blog as I was scrolling through tags and I have a request!

Eddie Munson of course. Love of my life. I was thinking reader could be Dustin’s older sister, but maybe a year younger than Eddie, so he doesn’t really know her or see her. She’s a pretty badass nerd and proud of it. Into the same music Eddie is, loves to read and write, into classic movies and most importantly, D&D - not that she would ever tell Dustin that since she knows he would BEG her to play all the time. And so, when Lucas goes to the bball came opposed to Eddie’s campaign, reader overhears Dustin freaking out with Mike and she decides to jump in and help. Eddie teases her at first just like with Erica and she has a badass moment and helps them win. After Eddie asks her out and it’s super cute, fluffy.

MY VERY FIRST REQUEST! thank you for the request, anon! i hope you like it! word count: 2,431 warning: fluff, cursing note: y/h/c = your hair color. bolded words in the middle of an imagine are lines taken directly from the show. do you guys want a part 2? i think this could be a great series!

"Dustin! Hurry up, or else the y/n mobile is saying bye bye without you!" I yelled up the staircase, huffy because my little brother was taking a million years to get downstairs. This was a daily occurrence and I was honestly fed up with it. He was always either feeding Yurtle or caught up in whatever he was doing for Hellfire club that day. Today, he couldn't find his Hellfire shirt.

"HOLD ON AND STOP BEING SO MEAN TO ME!" I rolled my eyes and tapped my fingers together anxiously, checking my watch. Objects clattered and crashed upstairs and I could imagine my brother throwing things around his room like the drama king he was.

"Patience, honey, patience." My mom tousled my hair as she walked by.

"Moooom, I was going to meet up with my friends for Rebecca's birthday this morning and now I'm not going to be able to give her the present I got her until this weekend because he's being stupid."

Mom stroked Mews and handed me a piece of toast. "Calm down and eat this. DUSTIN!! YOU'RE GIVING YOUR SISTER AN ANEURYSM!"

"I'M COMING! SHIT!"

"LANGUAGE!"

His feet thundered as he ran down the hall and down the stairs. He threw on his hat and his wrinkled Hellfire shirt and I smacked him. "Finally! Get in the car!" I took a huge stress bite out of the piece of toast and kissed mom on the cheek.

"Have a great day at school, kids!"

"Remember mom, I have Hellfire tonight!" Dustin ran to the car, backpack bouncing, and I ran after him.

We jumped into my shitty car, and I kicked it into gear.

"Every morning you make me stress eat because you make us late, dude."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry y/n, Mews hid my shirt under a pile of shit so I couldn't find it, I promise I'm going to be on time from now on."

I sighed, unable to stay mad at my brother for long. He's only two years younger than me, him being a freshman and me being a junior, but I still see him as my baby brother. I tapped the front of his baseball cap and smiled.

"That better be a promise." Dustin smiled his toothy grin at me.

--

We pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot. Dustin jumped out of the car while I was still rolling to a stop.

"Dustin! Don't do that!" I yelled out the window and people turned to look.

"Idiot." I grumbled under my breath and I parked the car. I grabbed my backpack and ran inside. I saw my friends and grinned, seeing my best friend of ten years, Rebecca, all dolled up for her birthday.

"Babe!!" Rebecca turned with a smile and I gave her the biggest hug. "Happy birthday!! Here, I made this for you!"

I dug the photo album I put together out of my bag and handed it to her. I had spent hours and hours on that thing, asking her mom and my mom for pictures we had taken together over the years, and put it into this scrapbook and decorated it with stickers and glitter and ribbons.

"Y/n!" Rebecca looked up at me in the middle of flipping through the pages, teary-eyed.

"Don't you dare cry, Rebecca Fedson. If you cry, I'll cry and it is too early for that."

She embraced me in a huge hug and I hugged her back, smiling into her hair. "I love you y/n."

--

Eddie's POV

"Babe!" I heard a familiar voice rush past me and a blur of y/h/c hair flew by. I turned to see if it was who I thought it was.

Y/n. I watched as she hugged her friends and gave her friend a... birthday present? Yeah. A birthday present. I had admired y/n from a distance for years now, ever since I saw her in the halls as a freshman. Back then, I was a sophomore and her smile was what caught my eye. I once had asked Dustin if she knew her, him being younger and more likely to know, and he had looked me quizzically and told me that was his older sister. After that, I occasionally saw her around the halls, but I never dared to approach her. She was always with a friend or two, and at lunch she was surrounded by friends who adored her and who she adored. She was popular, but not like Jason and those assholes. She was... nice. She had caught your eye a few times when you noticed her, and she smiled at you. Nobody smiled at you. Except for the Hellfire club, of course. But other than them, no one ever smiled at Eddie Munson, the self-proclaimed freak. But she did, and sometimes even raised her fingers in a shy wave. I think she knew who I was through Dustin. She probably also saw my Hellfire shirt, on days that I matched with Dustin, and put two and two together. I tried to be as cool as possible, but just the sight of her made me--confident, doesn't-care-about-anyone Eddie--nervous.

I watched y/n and her friend hug each other tight as her friend clung onto the gift y/n had given her. Y/n was always so thoughtful. So nice. But of course, I didn't dare do anything. Not only because she was inaccessible to Eddie the Freak, but also because she was inaccessible to me as Dustin's sister.

--

Y/n's POV

The day went by normally. Just class, occasionally seeing my friends if we had class together. I wasn't a star student, but I was good enough and enjoyed school enough. Overall, I was content at Hawkins High.

I met Dustin outside the school at the end fo the day, only to find him sitting dejectedly with Mike.

"What's up, guys?" I asked, shifting my backpack on my shoulder.

"I hate high school." Dustin mumbled.

"Whoa, what's going on? Did something happen?"

Mike sighed. "Eddie isn't letting us move Hellfire tonight for Lucas's game, which means that Lucas won't be at the campaign, and without someone to replace him, we can't play."

"We've been trying to find a replacement all day, but no one wants to play D&D."

The two boys slumped on the wall, pouting. I crossed my arms, thinking. Dustin didn't know it--no one did, but I had been dying to play D&D for a while now. When Dustin got really into it, I got a gameplay book to see what his obsession was all about, and as a nerd myself, who loves fantasy novels and movies, I got pretty sucked into it. I knew all the characters, all the rules. I kept this a secret from Dustin because I knew that if he found out, he would incessantly bother me about playing. I sighed, coming to a conclusion.

"I can be your substitute."

Dustin and Mike's heads shot up, surprised.

"What? You don't even know the rules or what a campaign is, or anything. How would you be the sub?" Dustin asked incredulously.

I ran my fingers through my hair before telling him, "I actually have wanted to play for years now. I know everything there is to know about D&D. I just didn't tell you because you'd be annoying about it."

Dustin's eyes widened as he dramatically grasped Mike's arm.

"No. Fucking. Way." Mike stared at me, open-mouthed.

Dustin slowly got up. "You're telling me," He breathed, "That you've kept this a secret from me? All these years?" He clutched his chest, "My dear sister! Who are you!"

I rolled my eyes and smacked him. "You keep this up, and I'm taking it back."

"Nononono, come on! We can go introduce you to the club right now!" Dustin grabbed my hand and dragged me behind him. I laughed and ran behind him and Mike followed me to Hellfire club.

--

Eddie's POV

I was finishing setting up today's campaign in the classroom when the door slammed open. My head jerked up to see Dustin and Mike standing in front of me, and.... and Y/N.

"And who is this?" I slowly smiled at y/n as her eyes lit up in recognition.

My breath hitched as she stepped around Dustin and walked towards me. She held out her hand and said, "I don't think we've officially met before. I'm y/n."

I smiled and took her hand in both of mine. "Please to meet you, princess, I'm Eddie."

I swear I saw her color a little as she smiled at me. We stood there like that for a moment until Dustin finally said, "Alright, that's enough, break it up. Eddie, this is y/n, my sister, and she's going to be Lucas's replacement."

Wait. What? I let go of her hand and took a step back. "No way miss y/n, miss popular knows how to play. Nope. Sorry princess, but that's not gonna happen." I crossed my arms.

Y/n raised her brows at me and took a step forward to close the gap that I had made.

"Well I'm offended Eddie, you don't think I'm smart enough to play your little game?" I furrowed my brows and retorted, "No it's not that, it's just that I don't trust people who run with the crowd you run with. Little miss thing can't possibly actually want to play, and we don't play with people who are just here for sympathy, to do charity work for the freaks and losers."

Mike and Dustin stood enraptured, their heads switching back and forth between us to look at us as we spoke.

Y/n rolled her eyes at me and retorted, "Trust me, I don't trust the crowd I run in either. But like you didn't choose who you're friends with, I didn't choose either." I gave her an incredulous look. "Listen, ask me anything you want. I've been studying the playbook for years now. I bet I know more than you."

"Alright, Henderson, you asked for it."

I shot off questions rapid-fire. To my surprise, y/n answered all of them with ease and confidence. She even looked bored. As she answered more and more questions correctly, my eyebrows went higher and higher on my face until I thought they would fall off.

"You done yet, Munson?" Y/n studied her nails and glanced up at me.

I paused for a second. Then I grinned. Holding out a hand, I said, "Welcome to the team, y/n Henderson."

--

Y/n's POV

"Come on, come ON!!" I bent over the table, watching Dustin rattle the dice in his hands. We were on the last leg of the campaign, and we needed one last thing to beat Eddie's long, complicated campaign.

It was like slow-motion. Dustin released his hands and the dice bounced across the table. The numbers spun around and around until...

"YES!" I pumped my arms up in the air and attacked my brother with a hug. Everyone cheered and high-fived, and I laughed as I watched them lose their shit over Dustin. I glanced over at Eddie and caught his eye. He was standing, arms crossed, smiling tenderly at me. I inhaled sharply and smiled back at him.

I walked over to join him on the other side of the table and smiled at the sight of the Hellfire club celebrating their win. Eddie nudged me with his elbow.

"Not bad, baby girl. You really impressed me today. Never would have chalked you up to be a nerd."

I nudged him back, "Well, don't judge a book by its cover, Munson."

He turned to face me, and I looked up to meet his doe-eyes. He smiled gently down at me and bit his lip. He ran his hand through his hair nervously.

"You know, y/l/n, I've... uh, I've," Eddie stammered and took a deep breath, "I've always been quite taken by you." His words rolled out as if they were one, and he looked down shyly.

My heart pounded as I heard him say that. He didn't know it, but ever since Dustin joined Hellfire and started talking about Eddie, I had watched him from afar. At first, it was to make sure that the guy my brother was hanging out with wasn't doing anything sketchy, but then it quickly became a crush. I mean, who wouldn't, with those eyes, those dimples, that famous long black hair?

It took all the courage in me to reach out and take his hand, which was fidgeting with his many silver rings. Our fingers met, and I heard Eddie give out a small gasp.

"I never would have known, but if I had known, I would have told you..." I tucked my hair behind my ear, "That I am also quite taken by you."

Eddie held my hand tighter. He was still looking down at his shoes, and I couldn't read what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

"Eddie? Say something." I said quietly.

He looked up at me. His eyes sparkled in the dim light. His face slowly broke out into a smile, lighting it up in a way I have never seen anyone's face light up.

"Well, well, well. Who would've thunk?" Eddie laughed breathily and I giggled. He finally took my other hand and we stood facing each other like that for a second.

"Y/n, would you... possibly want to.... go out with me sometime?" I grinned at him, unable to contain my happiness, "I'd treat you real nice." Eddie added and smiled back at me. I threw my arms around his neck and I felt Eddie pause, and then snake his arms around my waist.

"Yes, please." I whispered into his ear, and he held me tighter.

"I'll call you tonight, then. For the details." Eddie whispered back.

I pulled back and beamed at Eddie. Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson and me. That just sounded so right for some reason.

I snapped back to reality as the group of jumping and cheering boys jumped over to us and enveloped us in shouts. Eddie laughed and tousled Dustin's curly hair, and smiled back up at me.

"Alright, alright boys, let's calm down before adults come looking for what's causing this ruckus."

Eddie held my gaze and winked at me, ever so subtly. My heart skipped a beat, not-so-subtly. He mouthed, I'll call you later, princess. And I couldn't imagine what I could want more than that.

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #10)

The plot thickens! Chapter #10. Thanks for continuing to read! Please just feed him already! Somebody give this tiny man a snack!

Previous: Chapter #9

Next: Chapter #11

CW: Angst, injury, animal attack (kinda?)

________________________________________

A FRACTION OF JUSTICE

Chapter #10: Inferno

Word Count: 3,552 Read Time: Approx. 28 mins

[Alexander’s POV]

What I found as I rounded the corner and cautiously navigated the loose gravel alleyway between the two buildings, was exactly what I’d hoped for. The green bin was overflowing with foul smelling trash, it’s impenetrable lid cracked open and exposed to the mid-morning breeze. A red and white plastic bag, tied at the top by its handles, had cascaded to the muddy ground. My heart leapt in my chest as my spine straightened. Now, to hope and pray this bag contained food scraps. 

As I approached the building, I made sure to take stock of my surroundings, paying attention to anywhere I may encounter humans. To the far left, around the corner of the building, was the driveway, on this side closest to me, was a door with one lopsided concrete step, which I assumed gave access to the garage? It was a door that, presumably, wasn’t opened often. In front of me were the trash bins, unnaturally bright in the clear sun. Just to the right of these (and the plastic bag that was my only source of hope), was a potted plant, a rose bush by the look of it, looming in its terracotta pot, faded from exposure and dusted with potting soil around its rim. This was just next to four short steps that led to the shared porch. Those steps and barren wooden platform with no discernible cover lead to the front doors of each apartment, best to avoid it altogether. That was all I could really see from my vantage point. 

I slipped beside the bin, hiding in the shadow of it’s great plastic hull and dirty, torn up wheels cast onto the rocky driveway. Unsheathing my wooden dagger, I easily split the bag open, and it tore like the fatty belly of some bloated and beached whale. Trash spilled out onto the ground, wadded up paper towels, plastic… So much single-use plastic. Had these people never heard of recycling? Sweat poured on my brow as I clamored around, stepping further into the bag of waste. Please don’t let there be anything truly stomach churning in here. I kept rummaging around, until I caught a whiff of something salty and processed. My stomach growled in yearning. Perhaps the crumbs at the bottom of a wrapper somewhere? Just as I was about to bend down and investigate, I heard a sound that made my blood freeze. 

It reverberated across the hairs of my neck like a low thunderous warning. My initial instinct was to flee, my breath shallow, knees weak. But as I began to turn over my shoulder and face my new adversary, another emotion rose to the surface: hot, blinding rage. ENOUGH ALREADY!!! I couldn’t take it any more. 

As I gripped my handmade dagger, I turned to face what I already knew was waiting for me. A pitch black muscular frame of fur and whiskers, emerald green eyes dilating in hungry fascination at what it assume was prey below. I didn’t even cower. Thrusting the sharpened edge into the sky I screamed at the top of my lungs “NO MORE! NOT TODAY!! I WILL SLASH OUT YOUR EYES IF I HAVE TO! LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!!!” I waved the weapon around trying to look as big and menacing as I possibly could. 

The cat hesitated, tail lashing like a serpentine nightmare all its own. Chest heaving I stood my ground. Then, it skittered off, mewing as it kicked up dust with its paws. That’s what I thought. 

Proud that I had successfully tamed the beast, I turned on my heel to return to my search, when I was greeted with the real reason for the feline’s sudden flight. A giant shoe planted itself right where the cat had just been. The footfall actually blew my hair about as my heart practically exploded out of my chest. Biting my tongue to stifle a scream, I scrambled backwards on my hands and heels into the only cover from human eyes I could find; the bag of trash. The ragged, worn out converse paused only for a moment before tearing off down the drive way, each stride vibrating the packed gravel. I shook from head to toe… was that it? I stayed stock still, unable to see a thing but the rocky ground, I listened intently.

A female voice cried out, “Ugh!! Not again… Elvis! ELVIS come back here!! You know you’re not supposed to be outside and certainly not eating the fucking trash! Come HERE you little bastard!!” That animal with inch long fangs and claws doesn’t seem so little to me. I could hear the scuffle of rubber soles on gravel and then a sigh of victory while the cat yowled in defeat, “Ha! Gotcha! You know of these days I’m not gonna bother chasing you down and you’ll get hit by a car… you owe me…” the cat responded in kind by hissing and spitting. “Oh shut up, you drama king. This is what you get for sneaking out. Why the hell can’t Mrs.Collins just remember to close the door all the way? I have way more important shit to do than look after other people’s animals… come here, I'm gonna show her the mess you made…” Footsteps suddenly got louder and louder. 

Oh no. She was going to pick up the bag! All these humans had to do was peer inside the slash I had made in the plastic to see me cowering in their trash! There was nowhere to run where she wouldn’t be able to see me. If I wasn’t injured, I believed I could out-maneuver this woman who was apparently so skilled at catching runaway animals… but with my leg… she’d crush me in a fist within the blink of an eye. I didn’t have more time to ponder alternatives either, because the ground suddenly dropped away as I was lifted up, up, up into the air. I gripped on to the thin, stretchy plastic of the bag, hands slick with sweat, terrified I’d lose my footing and find myself dangling and exposed clinging for dear life in plain view.

The cat continued to protest, hissing violently. Looking down, I could see this human was holding the bag at about the height of her hip in her left hand, I could see the whole length of her leg as it rose and fell, taking steps towards the porch. I can’t be seen by humans. I can’t be someone’s plaything again!! What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? 

Before I could rack my brain for a solution, I heard the cat let out a violent yowl, and then everything lurched as I found myself suddenly airborne. In the instant all this happened, I heard a cry of surprise and pain followed by shouting, “Ouch! Jesus Christ, you little shit! That fucking hurt!” Evidently she’d been scratched, and the pain had made her jerk, causing me to go flying. She’d made it halfway up the porch steps, and as my spinning, nauseating vision came into focus, I came face to face with my incredible stroke of luck: I was going to fall into the plant. It would still be horrendously painful, but at least I wouldn’t find myself with broken vertebrae. And, it didn’t seem she had noticed me at all. 

I squeezed my eyes shut as leaves and twigs came up to slash me. I tried to cover my face with my forearm as much as possible, but as I continued to fall, the appendages of the plant scuffed, bruised and battered me, until, with a sudden lurch, I was suspended upside down. Then all was still. Crunching my abs and curling my spine, I lifted my head to see how I’d been stuck. I was suspended halfway though the plant, still at least another five or six inches to drop to make it to the soil at the bottom. 

I could hear knocking and frustrated grumbles from the woman as the cat’s protests continued non-stop. “Stupid, fucking cat… I hate— Hey, Mrs. Collins! Elvis got out… again. This time he tore into the trash….” I heard an elderly voice gasp in concern as if she had never considered this sort of thing to be possible. I tuned it all out. What did I care about these humans and their escaped feline? I could hardly blame it for wanting to avoid captivity, even if it had just tried to eat me. 

Blood pooled in my head as I gazed upwards, my shredded t-shirt bunching against my chest, I had to hold it down with one hand just to be able to see. Finally, amidst the criss-cross labyrinth of the twisting branches, I could make out the source of the problem. My stint was hooked on a sturdy part of the plant. 

Damn. I’d have to somehow gain enough momentum to grapple onto a branch above and stay upright and then untie the stint to free myself. 

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry about your arm! Why don’t you come in and I can take of that and fix you a nice cup of tea? Hm?” 

“No. That’s fine… thank you.. like I’ve been mentioning all week I have a lot of studying to do so… if you could please make sure to close the door so he doesn’t get out again that’d be great…”

“Of course, dear. I just don’t know how that even happened in the first place. Come here, Elvis-Welvis… Mommy’s got you…” 

I wanted to vomit. These humans and their obsession with owning other creatures. It made me sick. I didn’t have time to listen to any of this. I had to get out of this nightmare before anyone got any bright ideas about bringing a new five-inch tall companion home with them. 

I started to swing my body, trying to get up high enough to grab the branch directly above me. The first time, I missed completely… the next my fingertips just brushed the bark. So close. The third one would be the charm. I swung back, only to be greeted with a simultaneous hiss of black fur as a feline shape came hurling straight for me. 

“ELVIS!!” Both women shouted as the cat leaped from the elders woman’ arms and pounced through the wooden slats in the porch fence, to bat at me like a toy. I realized I’d made the plant shake with my movements, catching the keen eye of the predator, hellbent on catching its prey, regardless of the consequences it suffered from the humans around it. 

“Leave my roses alone!! Bad cat!” I watched as the hissing ball of fur was plucked easily from the ground, despite its best efforts to cling to the wood grain with its claws. “Here. Mrs. Collins, I really don’t have time for this. Just keep him inside, okay?”

A few mumbled apologies later and the squeaky door shut. I stayed stock still, despite hanging upside down and losing feeling in my legs down to my hips. I could hear the converse-wearing woman shift her weight on the creaking porch boards. “Goddamn…” She mumbled to herself. Please don’t come any nearer, I can’t take anymore. Her footsteps approached. I hated this human. Why couldn’t she just leave me be?

I heard the creak of old wood as she descended the porch steps. Please just go back to where you came from. Just keep walking. I can’t hang upside down like this forever. But no, of course she did the opposite. What had I ever done to deserve this kind of horrendous anticipatory anxiety? Instead of passing me by, she stood looming directly over the plant. I didn’t dare to breathe, trying to not move a muscle, praying, I’d somehow remain unnoticed, I could barely see her, so maybe she couldn’t see me? I gripped a branch of the plant, digging my nails into the flesh of the bark to keep from trembling. She stood there unmoving, for a painfully long while, before descending to a crouch, getting even more dangerously close to my vulnerable form. What horrible fate awaited me once she spotted me, dangling there, defenseless and vulnerable, literally ripe for the picking? I wanted to cry as her head cast a shadow over me. “Hmmm…” she breathed, what was she seeing? Had I been found? “That cat’s gonna kill you if I don’t bring you inside, isn’t he?” My heart stopped. Was she speaking to me? Was this the beginning of the end? “You’re probably wilting from the cold too, aren’t ya? C’mon, let’s get you inside.” The plant. She was talking to the plant. Was this woman mentally ill? It certainly seemed so. For a moment, I celebrated the realization that she had utterly failed to see me despite dangling inches away from her. However, that elation soon crystalized into bitter fear: If she was taking the plant indoors, that meant I was going to be trapped inside. I couldn’t free myself from here without her spotting me. Any large movement would register and I’d be a goner. Better to ride out the storm. I was smart enough to figure out an escape once her back was turned. 

Even through the hyperbolic lies I told myself, I knew my chances for freedom were dwindling every second. When she lifted the plant in the air, with some grunting on her part and stomach-churning sways back and forth on mine, I felt as though I was being marched, unwillingly towards certain death: If not physical, than spiritual. I would die inside if I was tortured and toyed with again. My heart pounded at lightning speed as I felt the breeze of the chilly afternoon dissipate for the stagnant, circulated air of the indoors. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, indeed. With a painful thud that made me bite the soft flesh of my cheek to keep from crying out, the plant and I were placed on the floor, just inside the entryway. I hated the sound of the door closing. I was trapped in here. For now! Don’t give up yet! 

It hurt to not only hang but be thrashed about so wildly while upside down for so long. I was grateful for the stillness, but desperate to get upright again. She stood over my hiding spot once more, musing, “Perk up, lil’ buddy. The cat won’t get ya in here…” she paused, still not moving,  “Oh my fucking god, I’m talking to a fucking plant. Have I gotten to that point in sleep depravation where I’m losing my grip? And, now I’m talking to myself… Fuck, I need to get back to work…” Well, at least you’re willing to admit you’re crazy. Yes, please go anywhere else than right here. I don’t care what you do, so long as it’s far, far away from me. Now, shoo before every drop of blood in my body pools in my head. Moments later, she shuffled off, leaving this half of the apartment in solitary quiet. 

After waiting about thirty seconds to make sure she really wasn’t coming back, I immediately sprung into action. Now certain I didn’t have an audience this time, I tried once again to swing my way upwards. After five exhausting tries that left my brow slick with sweat and my face flushed, I managed to hook an elbow around a branch, as my hands got to work untying the dirty, tattered fabric from around my leg. So much for keeping it aligned to heal. In one fell motion, the stint came loose and I crashed to the ground, soft potting soil clinging to my face and hair, as I dug my way out from my haphazard landing position. Ouch. My whole body was in pathetic shape, every part sported a bruise, scrape or open wound of some kind. The dirt stung fiercely as it mixed with blood and my open sores. My stomach seemed to writhe and moan simply to add to my plethora of distressful sensations. I was starving now. Could I risk stealing food from this human before disappearing without a trace? 

First, I had to tackle getting down to the floor. Try as I might to clamor down carefully, I still ended up falling six or so inches to the ground. The hardwood beneath me was not kind on my joints or injured knee. But, hey, I’d made it past the first step towards escape didn’t I? Before me was the living room. Furniture towering like mountains overhead. Against the opposite wall from where I stood, were bookshelves, distressfully crammed full of books, pictures, shot glasses, trinkets, souvenirs, records. It was a snapshot of this person and her interests. I didn’t care to peruse it.  I wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter, anyway. I did notice, however, that these shelves were not flush with the ground, but actually had a shallow underside, supported by stout, wooden legs. A wonderful place for a pet like me to slide under, out of sight and beyond reach to await his opportunity to make a run for it. 

To the left of all this, was the kitchen, shining linoleum gleaming in the overhead light. I noticed, delighted, that the kitchen sported a back door. Two means of escape are better than one, after all. Now, all I had to do was slip into her pantry, which, thankfully was left cracked open… I knew it! Laziness and selfishness are humans’ forte… I’d grab the first thing I could find and retreat with it under those shelves. I could wait there for a whole day if I rationed my food intake properly. 

To the pantry, then. I knew this was the most dangerous part of my plan, so I focused all my energy on going as quickly as possible. Once I finally arrived at the threshold, I was met with my first obstacle: the lowest, wooden shelf was still over two feet above the ground, over four times as tall as me! I groaned. Why can’t anything be easy? 

I was quick to find a solution. Wasting no time, I hobbled to the side, where a few lanyards hung with I.D.s hung on hooks. I craned my neck to read. It was an I.D. card for Harvard. So this woman was a student. I boiled with jealousy. What I wouldn’t give for a higher education, you lucky, ungrateful… I squinted to read the name printed in small block letters… Natalie. 

Well, Natalie, I’m going to help myself to a small snack or two, now. You’d better not have a problem with that, you greedy, awful human. And if you do, I will not hesitate to defend myself. Besides, I’ll be out of your hair before you even knew I was here. Thanks for the food! Hope to never see you again! 

With that, I used my dagger to slash holes (small ones, out of view) into the plastic covering of a pack of water bottles. These served as hand and foot holds as I clamored up the pile of squeaking mass-produced vessels. I licked my dry lips. How nice a long drink of cool water sounded right now. Too bad I was too pathetically tiny to even hope of twisting a bottle cap open. Even if I could, I should do my best to not leave a trail of my presence here. 

I tried to keep my injured leg as straightened and relaxed as possible as I ascended, but was not always entirely successful. Once I found myself balanced atop this man-made plateau of blue and white plastic, I found I could, somewhat easily, leap up and grab hold of the shelf above me. Unfortunately, however, it wasn’t as simple as that. Of course not. Everything within reach of my raised platform provided so thin of a lip on the shelf above that there was no way I’d be able to pull myself up there, with enough room to stand on the shelf. Instead, I’d have to grab on and shimmy across, until I was no longer beneath the safer height, dangling instead, with only the floor beneath me. If I fell from this height, it would be enough to break a few bones. Bring it on, I can take it. 

I soon found myself in that exact position. My body weight supported entirely by my grip strength. All I had to do now, was swing my legs, hook my heel on the top of the shelf and pull myself up. I was going to eat! Finally!

Despite my screaming muscles, I started to swing myself to my left, trying to get enough momentum to get my leg high enough to catch. I kept glancing down at my right side, checking to see how my injured leg was taking all this back and forth motion. 

On my fourth try, however, all efforts ceased as I was rooted to the spot with fear. As I twisted back from inspecting my wound, I recognized that I was no longer alone. I shuddered, feeling as though I may simply pass out, my stomach dropped: I’d been found. 

[malkumtend]

Warmth - set in the ILYL universe (set between ch. 12 and ch. 13).

Art by @lonely-ghost-606

Windclan cats had been able to adapt to many things. Their legs, long and tight with muscle, gave them the strength and speed needed to chase rabbits and hares. They could fix their senses to the breeze that split through the grass, breathing in the wafts of prey that waited tree-lengths away. And their sleek, thin coats allowed them to rush through the moorlands, and not feel heat swell through layers of useless fur, even when the sun was hot and angry above Silverpelt.

Crowpaw was proud to say he had reaped the rewards of each of these benefits.

However, as his small, unprotected by fur, paws crunched through the blanket of snow, he really wished Windclan had discovered ways to fight the cold.

But they hadn’t. Often enough, they were warmed by their sheer raid movement on the moors, so rain hardly gave them a problem. And snow was a rarity among the clans themselves.

Here, in the mountain air, where the sky grew dark and the air descended into a bitter mist, where snow lined the rock like white, frozen moss, Crowpaw wasn’t so lucky.

His paw dug into the unbroken white once more, and the damp freeze clawed him once again. He winced as cold ran it’s tongue up his leg, then glared into the winter horizon, seeing the acres of snow they still had to navigate.

“Crowpaw?” Crowpaw hissed back a growl as he looked up at Brambleclaw. The Thunderclan tom had stopped, strong paws not even shivering as he waited in the snow. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stop to find some shelter?”

Every cat, all thick furred and stationary, looked back at the apprentice. They all shared the embarrassed look of pity.

Crowpaw’s ears burned, but even that offered no help to his shaking back. “I’m fine!” Crowpaw said, he had to grin his teeth so he didn’t stutter. “It’s not that cold!” The worst part was that was true. There was no snow falling, just a plethora of short, but cutting gusts of wind. It would undeniably get colder when the dusty afternoon sky began to darken. Crowpaw groaned. He didn’t even want to think about that.

“Sure.” Stormfur muttered.

Crowpaw tried not to hiss. I’d like to see how you do without all that fur, fish-breath!

Feathertail glared at her brother then faced Crowpaw worriedly. “Crowpaw, it really doesn’t matter. None of us would mind.”

“Feathertail’s right.” Tawnypelt agreed. “It’ll do you no good to push yourself, Crowpaw. It’s only going to get worse from here.” She mewed with a whip of her tail. “It’ll be better if you keep your strength.”

“I said I’m fine!” Crowpaw meowed, stamping his forepaw furiously. He cringed when he hit a fresh patch of snow. “I-I don’t need to rest! If you all do, that’s your problem. I’ll just carry on by myself!” With that, he began to storm past the cats, trying to use his anger to heat the chill biting his paws. It grew with every disbelieving or piteous look he was able to catch.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Stormfur snapped, shaking his head as Crowpaw passed him with a quiet snarl.

Crowpaw was about to say something bitter, but most of his energy was saved for trying to keep himself warm. He sighed drearily, watching with a frown as his breath blew away in a vapor of steam.

He kept his head high, for some reason thinking that would help him conserve heat if he kept his head away from the snow. It wasn’t working. Crowpaw bit his lip in frustration, but he didn’t stop. He may have hated being half-frozen, but he hated being pitied more than anything. He’d rather sleep furless in icy water than be the reason the group stopped for a moment.

The Two-legs pillaging Winclan wouldn’t wait for him. He couldn’t either.

However, the constant, slithering powder of frost that made his back hurt was just as merciless.

Little by little, Crowpaw slowed down in his walk again. The cats he had proudly stormed ahead of began to pass him again, one by one, this time keeping their mouths shut. It was clear anything they said would just make it worse for their prickly accomplice.

Still, each one’s warm, fleecy coat of fur looked swollen with regret that that they couldn’t give him any help.

He heard Feathertail mew something soft to him, but by then Crowpaw’s ears were pounding with humiliation.

He could just imagine Mudclaw’s face. The abject disgust at how pathetic his apprentice had turned out to be. Look at you! Your father picks you to represent our great clan and you whither like a wet kit!

Crowpaw’s steps only slowed as the even colder voice persisted in his brain. No surprise, his decreasing pace only made the strength to continue even weaker. Every step now felt as heavy as pulling his body out of a pool of mud.

He growled quietly. Stupid snow. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t suited to this mouse-brained weather. A defeated sigh left him like a spirit. No. If he could truly call himself a Warrior, he should have just been able to grit his teeth and bare it. And even though he could bare it, he knew he was slowing them all down.

He was making Windclan look like a liability.

Crowpaw tried to not look like that hurt him as much as he did. He closed his eyes, gnashing his jaws. He just needed to carry on at this point. Sulking wouldn’t make him look any less of a complete rabbit-heart. He kept his eyes to the snow, determined to not remind himself of the contrast of his and his journeymates wills.

His ear perked however, when he heard snow crunch beside him. He just caught the ginger and white paws that bounded effortlessly in the snow until they were right beside him.

Crowpaw sighed, feeling his ears go hot. “What is it, Squirrelpaw?” He said curtly.

“What?” A snappy voice replied. “Can I not walk with you now?”

Crowpaw kept himself from getting angry. It wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s fault he was useless. “Don’t be mouse-brained.” He said. “What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything. I just wanted to talk to you.” Her voice shifted cheekily. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“Shouldn’t I just.” Crowpaw rolled his eyes. He caught her then. She looked remarkably unperturbed by her environment. She strode through the snow as if it was new-leaf grass. But maybe that was the benefits of having such a fluffy coat like she did. Crowpaw looked ahead. “Shouldn’t you try to catch up with the others?” They were at least half a tree-length ahead.

“Only if you feel like it.” Crowpaw frowned and Squirrelpaw had the sense to let her ears fold back guiltily. “Sorry. I know that Windclan aren’t really… suited for snow.” He could practically feel the burn of her eyes as they slid across his spiked, wimpy excuse of a coat.

Crowpaw felt the sudden need to jerk himself up. Looking so bad in front of his best friend was hardly a welcome thought. “I said it before; I’ll be okay.” He spoke. His tail swung forwards. “Don’t wait on me. Just carry on ahead.” The last thing he wanted to be was a burden.

“I’m not waiting on anyone. There’s no need to rush, after all.”

The very idea that she could rush in this made Crowpaw groan a little.

Squirrelpaw shrugged, pouncing ahead. “Cheer up. We’ll have to find some shelter soon. This mountain’s so big, there has to be thousands of places to sleep.”

Crowpaw scoffed. “Yeah, but since it’s so big how long will we have to walk until we find one of them.”

“It can’t be long now.”

So painfully optimistic. As the cold made his bones brittle, Crowpaw looked away. “Yeah. You keep thinking that.”

Squirrelpaw looked at him pointedly. Her eyes hadn’t lost their fire, if anything they looked even sharper. “Maybe it would help if you weren’t so moody. Would it really hurt you to think of something other than the worst of everything?”

Crowpaw’s tail flared. He couldn’t help but glare at his friend. “It’s easy for you to say, fuzz-ball!”

Squirrelpaw laughed mockingly, “Oh, that’s a new one. What? Jealous?” Her overwhelming coat seemed to shake with every spark of her words. She seemed to be more fur than cat!

Crowpaw flashed his teeth, “Not really. You should count yourself lucky. Without all that fur, you’d be smaller than a kit!”

“I’d still beat you in a fight, though!”

Crowpaw only scoffed again, turning away with a growl.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that!” Squirrelpaw said frustratedly. “You can’t get angry at me for this.”

“You’re the one acting like a mouse-brain.” Crowpaw said monotonously.

There was gawking sound. “How? All I said was that it wouldn’t kill you to stop looking so angry. It’s hardly going to help you is it?”

“Oh, and if I smile like an idiot, I’m – what – just going to get all warm, fuzzy feelings.” Crowpaw bit his tongue as his head tittered in a mocking grimace. “Get over yourself.”

“You first.” Squirrelpaw muttered with the edge of a hiss. “No need to get nasty.”

Crowpaw didn’t reply. Talking to her was too much effort.

Besides, maybe now she’d join up with the others instead of seeing him like this.

She didn’t. They continued to walk. And for some reason, even though she had to be in better shape than him, she matched his pace the whole time. Crowpaw scanned the path ahead and exhaled slowly. There was still no sign of shelter. At least he hadn’t lost sight of the others.

It didn’t take long for his side to quiver. His nose creasing, he looked and his frown softened when he saw the ginger pelt still whiskers from his own. He could swear he could feel a small heat radiating from the bright strands of fur.

As that heat lingered, the silence became more suffocating.

“Look.” A soft voice made Crowpaw crane his head. “If I said something to upset you, I’m sorry.” Crowpaw blinked in shock. “I didn’t mean to.” He heard Squirrelpaw spit bitterly. “But that doesn’t give you the right to be like this. It’s not my fault your coat’s so thin.” She muttered. “I can’t make it grow, you know. It’s not like I want you to be cold.”

He lost valuable energy doing so, but Crowpaw’s head shifted to his side.

Her lips were in a thin pout, and her eyes were downcast in a bad mood. But she didn’t slow or quicken her pace. She kept right by him. Occasionally she would tilt her gaze, but stopped when she felt she was being watched.

Neither spoke. The quiet made Crowpaw cold inside.

Crowpaw bit his lower lip, ignoring the sudden twist in his stomach. As the bitter silence persisted however, he sighed to himself. She was right. It wasn’t like she’d tried to provoke him. All she’d done was try to keep him company and be the over-zealous molly she always was. She hadn’t started anything. Or at least she hadn’t tried to.

Even if she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut, she still was looking out for him. And even when snapped at she didn’t just leave him like he deserved. She accepted his moodiness. Maybe he needed to learn to accept her… quirks.

Besides, talking to her had made his mouth feel warm.

Crowpaw breathed, feeling the cold made him cough momentarily. When he’d stopped, he found Squirrelpaw looking at him with obvious concern. The tom’s face mellowed. “I know.” He said, looking forward, downcast. “I’m sorry too. I’m just sick of this cold.”

At his apology, Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched. Hesitantly, she faced him, the stiffness of her muzzle quivering just the slightest. She looked over his shivering frame again. She let out a soft breath. “If it’s bothering you that much, I can ask the others to stop.”

“We can’t do that.”

“But Crowpaw-”

“No.” Crowpaw affirmed. “I don’t want to slow anyone down.” He’d said it before he could take it back. He grunted at himself. He was so freezing, he didn’t even think about what he was saying.

“It isn’t slowing us down. They’d do the same no matter who it was.” Squirrelpaw said, her gaze warm.

Crowpaw let out a bitter laugh, “Maybe, but it wouldn’t happen to any of you.” He said tensely, using his shaking tail to point at his pelt.

Squirrelpaw’s jaw hung in sad recognition. She looked up at Crowpaw wordlessly, unable to offer a retort.

Crowpaw gave her a gentle nod. He knew she couldn’t counter that, no matter how much she wanted to. He resigned himself to carry on walking. If Squirrelpaw kept by him at this point, he counted himself lucky. He licked his chest a little to warm himself up, but bit on it softly as the organ began to freeze. He shook himself again; all he could do was keep moving.

He was just beginning to feel some kind of control over his stiffening tail again when he felt something knock into his side.

It wasn’t a hard push. Really it was just a pressing on his ribs. Crowpaw usually would have jumped away, but he stopped shot as he noticed the feeling the sudden presence gave. It felt softer than the moss that he used to line his nest, but it condensed the same kind of comforting, embracing warmth that he felt from his den. Without fully realising it, the frost that had made his ribs ache subsided to a blissful glow.

He turned to his side, and blinked stupidly when he saw what, or who, was the source of the heat.

Squirrelpaw wasn’t facing him, but her fur was pressed right into Crowpaw’s body. She walked, a little clumsily, next to him and, this close, Crowpaw felt just how woolly her coat truly was. It really did feel like she was made of fur. It slipped all over his side like a ray of sunlight. He really did feel his body begin to swell with her share of heat.

But the heat in his face was all his own. “S-Squirrelpaw?” He mewed incredulously.

“Hush.” Squirrelpaw said, her voice muffled for some reason. “If you’re going to be stubborn like this I might as well make sure you don’t hurt yourself doing it.”

“W-What?” Crowpaw felt something pound in the depths of Squirrelpaw’s side.

“Let’s just keep moving.” The Thunderclan apprentice mewed, “I can’t just let you freeze. Don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t need to do this for long. We can’t be far from shelter now.” There was a silent plead in the cavern of her tone. Crowpaw could feel her muscles tense. She was looking quickly at him, as if checking that he didn’t rip himself from her.

There were many reasons that he should: clan loyalty, personal embarrassment, how fast his heart was-

Crowpaw gulped, his eyes still on the smaller cat. He saw her swallow hard and noticed her stiff, vacant expression as she kept on walking. Crowpaw’s stomach churned.

She was embarrassed herself, but she worked through it for him.

Her head tipped back a little, and Crowpaw noticed the cute way that her nose twitched when she was nervous. Her fur still mingled with his, he could barely see his own coat wrapped inside the ginger fluff. Crowpaw’s tail swung from side to side. Did he really feel as calmly about this as he did? This… this wasn’t normal, was it? Even if they were friends, could they really…

Crowpaw took in a hot breath. He felt shaking at his side and looked down stunned. She wasn’t cold, was she? Why was she shivering like that? Was he that cold to touch? No. That was ridiculous. She hadn’t looked like that before. His body tingled with worry. His tail began to sway quickly, maybe it would be better if he started to rush ahea-

He blinked.

His fur quivered all over his body. This time with realisation.

He wasn’t freezing anymore.

How…How could that be? Was her fur actually that warm? He slowly looked down again, shocked by how seamless his neck felt now. There she was. Nestled against him, eyes burning with embarrassment, tail quivering behind her, her gait clumsy and stuttering.

She wasn’t cold though.

Crowpaw felt that much.

And if somehow she was, she hadn’t left him yet.

Crowpaw felt warmer.

Gently, he slipped his tail until it had intertwined itself with his friend’s. Squirrelpaw jerked, twisting her head up. Her lips trembled. “C-Crowpaw?”

Crowpaw was concerned that she’d pull away, so he offered her a small smile. “Sorry. I just thought I’d return the favour.” He pressed himself even closer to the soft pelt. Squirrelpaw let out a light squeak as Crowpaw’s tail embraced her own. His tail tingled as it cloaked itself in the brush of long fur. He winked at her. “Wouldn’t want you falling in the snow after all. I’d have to laugh at you.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t speak for a moment. Dumbfounded.

Then her tail began to squeeze his like a soft paw.

And her lips curved into a grin.

“Careful,” She warned, her eyes half-closing. “I’ve seen you trip before. I can make it happen again.”

Crowpaw snickered. “You do that, you’re coming down with me.”

“Great! That way I can hold you down. I’ve always wondered how you would look with white fur!”

“Touche!” Crowpaw chuckled.

Squirrelpaw beamed, ready to start again with another silver quip.

“Squirrelpaw?”

The ginger cat opened her eyes, her grin slackening as she saw the smile on Crowpaw’s face. “Hmm?” She questioned, raising a brow.

“Thanks.” Crowpaw said. Genuine.

He just about felt a beat inside Squirrelpaw’s chest again. But she cut it off with a laugh that could make icicles fall. “Who are you and what have you done with Crowpaw?” He joined in, laughing until he was out of breath. Squirrelpaw smiled, her head almost underneath his chin. Her tail curled blissfully over his. “Don’t mention it, Crowfood.” She said, the gentleness betraying the nickname.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Crowpaw quipped, chuckling as Squirrelpaw nudged him away with her side.

But their tail still stayed linked, so they easily found each other again.

…

Not many people seemed interested, but fuck it. If people hate it they can tell me in the comments. For those that are interested, I hope you liked it.