#kitty in a casket

[nu-ephedrin]

[nothing-but-music-videos]

Kitty in a Casket

"Bride of the Monster"

Music video, 2009

[nyxx-nth]

Another @.faiyx commission 🥳

Spreading the hello kitty johnny ghost agenda 🗣‼️‼️

[jammy342]

You feel as if your in danger. granted they all look too silly to hurt you..well one of them looks like they want ice cream but i digress.

[pebbleheadz]

UNFINISHED DRAWINGS + DOODLE DUMP AUSGFJFJ

these have been sitting in my phone for so long and i'll never touch them again i think

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

There’s no casket for the funeral. In this neighbourhood, that’s expected. After the usual affair at the church, all are invited back to the house to pay their respects. You put the only picture you have of your father on the mantel; his wedding photo. 

You dress in black but not for your father. You’re mourning your sisters. Yourself. You dress in sombre slate for the uncertainty of it all. The colour is as dark as your guilt. You brought this fear upon them. 

You didn’t think about any of this. Barnes was entirely right in that regard. You didn’t think any of it out. You weren’t thinking at all. You were angry and tired. Now, it’s done and there’s no going back to what was. You don’t truly want to do that but you don’t see a path ahead that’s much better. 

The people there are there because it’s expected. They are your father’s associates. Not family or friends. Funerals are part of their job description. 

You walk numbly from room to room. You haven’t cried. You haven’t had a tear for your father in years. You try to make yourself look distraught but all you feel is empty. 

Adrienne sways between bouts of bawling and soft sniffles. Kitty is stronger. She busies herself with the flowers and thanks every guest for attending. You accept their condolences but offer little in return. 

You’re all just pretending. You’re acting like you’ll miss him. You won’t. Even if your sisters are stunned and just as scared as you, you know they aren’t sad. You all wished for this the very night before the envelope showed up. The night that you... killed him. 

You sit in one of the mismatched chairs set out to accommodate the guests. The neighbours lent some of their own for the event. You are worn through. You haven’t slept more than an hour at a time since you pulled that trigger.  

You won’t tell yourself it’s regret, you were never more certain of anything in your life. No, you know exactly what it is. Dread. You have a debt to pay. 

A figure appears in the open door. You see him through the archway of the front room. You stand as the new arrival stops just within the frame. A slow hush rolls over each guest. You look at Kitty as she glances over from the tray of cookies she spent all night making. She sees him too. 

Your older sister goes to Adrienne and touches her shoulder. The youngest lifts her head and peers up as all attention aims at the arched doorway. Barnes fills it easily. He looks around. His suit seems blacker than usual. 

It isn’t a surprise. He’s the boss. He’s expected to see his men off. He nods at you, then your sisters. You go to them, standing with Kitty behind the sofa as she keeps her hand on Adrienne. 

“Please,” Barnes waves your younger sister from standing. “Stay. I’m sure it’s been a long day. I’ve only come to pay my respects.” 

He looks between you all then sidesteps the couch. He goes to the mantle and considers the wedding photo. He bows his head and reaches into his jacket. He sets a silver coin in front of the frame. It’s an old tradition. Back in the 30s, people would leave pennies on the church altar to help pay for the burial. 

He takes a deep breath and backs up. He turns to face the room. The people in it might be familiar but they are just as much strangers to you as someone on the street. They don’t care about you, they don’t even care about your father. They’re only there because that’s what you do. 

“Thank you all for coming. You may go,” Barnes says. 

There’s a moment of hesitation. Then, the men in suits and their wives, shuffle out obediently. Kitty grabs her hand and squeezes Adrienne’s shoulder. You watch the man they call the king. 

When the room is empty, he goes to shut the front door. He returns and stands just inside the archway. He peers around again. 

“Your father died as one of mine, that means you’re all under my protection. Consider the casket paid for,” he says. 

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” Kitty says. “That’s very generous.” 

“I do it for all my men. I try not to lose too many,” he replies grimly. “I want you girls to tell me if you need anything. Got it?” 

Adrienne smothers a sob and nods frantically. Kitty hushes her and leans in to pet her head. You stand staunchly beside them, staring at him. His eyes cling to you. 

“Catch your breath, doll,” Barnes says. “Calm her down.” He points at Kitty then you, “Your daddy got a gun safe?” 

You look at your sisters. You can see the glisten in Kitty’s eyes. She’s good at taking care of people. You’re not. Adrienne needs her. You did this. You gotta deal with it. 

“Yeah, upstairs,” you answer as you step around the couch. 

Barnes waits until you’re level with him before he turns. He lets you lead him out and follows you to the second floor. You take him to your father’s bedroom and push the door open. You can’t go inside. You were never allowed. Not unless you wanted a taste of your father’s belt. 

“I don’t know the code,” you say. 

“That’s fine. Just needa know it’s here. I’ll have my men sort that out,” he rocks on his feet. “We needa talk.” 

You nod. 

“Privately,” he glances over at the staircase. 

You look at your father’s door and take a step back, “not in there.” 

“Right, wherever you like,” he shows his palm indifferently. 

You turn and guide him to your room. You pause before you let him inside. You’re embarrassed as he enters. Your basket of laundry is overflowing and your makeup is still strewn all over from your erratic morning. 

He paces around your bed and you shut the door. He’s quiet. So are you. The tension is enough to make you squirm. You just want him to come out and say it. 

“It’s me. I owe you. Not my sisters--” 

He raises his index finger. “You do.” He stops and faces you. “And so did your daddy. He had his hands in my pockets. Deep. I coulda had him done for that. Coulda done it myself. Then I thought about it. I do that, I brand him a thief, and what does that mean for his girls?” 

You stare at him, chest aching as your heart pounds. 

“The house and what he actually brought in, it isn’t close to even with what he took,” he crosses his arms, setting his feet flat. He lifts his chin. “I really shoulda done it myself but you wanna know why I didn’t?” 

You can’t talk. He’s toying with you. You look down at the floor as if you might see your sisters through the boards. 

“Ah, eyes up here,” he comes closer until he’s right in front of you. Your eyes flick up and wet with tears. Finally. “I wanted to know if you would do what needs to be done. If when the hammer comes down, that you won’t crack.” His eyes flick up and down and he sucks his teeth. “You didn't. You didn’t fucking flinch either.” 

“He deserved it,” you whisper, voice wobbling. 

“I know he did, doll. And I know you deserved to do that,” he says. “And what I saw that night, I never seen that before. That’s a woman with steel in her gut. The kinda woman a man like me needs.” 

Your forehead creases in confusion. You don’t know what he means. 

“You want me to... take over for my dad? I can’t--” 

“Ha, no, no,” he startles you as he brings his hand up. You flinch and he keeps his hand aloft. His eyes spark and he tilts his palm, gently caressing your cheek as if coaxing a street cat. “This isn’t woman’s work. No, doll, all I want, is you.” 

Your eyes round and you shiver against his touch. He smirks. 

“And I know, just like in that warehouse, you’re going to do exactly what needs to be done,” his thumb strokes your cheekbone. “For your sisters.” 

[ladyredmoon13]

DCXDP prompt

During a rouge attack(your choice) a local graveyard in Gotham was damaged. Afterward, some local corrupted businessmen decided that clearing out the land and moving the graves was a great idea.

Not soon after the "clean up" began a gray-skinned teen with flaming blue hair showed up, and boy was she angry. She began yelling, screaming at the people the workers for digging up her grave.

When she was only met with patronizing responses she used her guitar to destroy some of their equipment. She was only the beginning though. Soon a equally gray looking biker guy and his green girlfriend showed up and started chasing people off.

Even some angry blue guy showed up one morning yelling about how ' they would pay for braking open his box.' (Braking his casket) wasn’t till they accidentally damaged a statue of one of Gothams most famous wardens that it really hit the fan.

The Bats call in Justice League Dark for help with this issue and no matter what they were thinking was going to happen. No matter what hoops they thought they would have to go through to resolve this. They did not expect Constantine to call a fourteen year old for back up.

- So in canon Ember died in a house fire. I could totally see that happening as a result of a rouge attack.(Like Firefly or the Joker, maybe)

Johnny and Kitty died in a motorcycle accident. So maybe they were trying to out run the police? Run from people they had gambling debts with?

The Box Ghost was a warehouse accident. Probably as an example the Mob wanted to make to the warehouse owner after not wanting to pay for protection. Or perhaps he was a whistle-blower?

Walker died in a prison riot, and seeing how Gotham is the place to find violent criminals. Would it be that much of a stretch to say it was Gotham penitentiary? I think not.

[minimomoe]

Love Never Dies

Tags: MDNI, Zombie! Toji, talks of death, suggestive content

wrd ct: 686

song inspo: After Hours- Mr. Kitty

A/N: gonna drop some halloween drabbles here and there. also, choso will get a short vampire story. let's have fun this kinktober!!!

You thought you had said your goodbyes to Toji just a few weeks ago. You held a funeral for him and everything. You identified his body at the morgue, watched his casket get lowered in the ground, tossed the first handful of dirt to solidify the beginning of the end, yet you still had this lingering feeling of uneasiness.

Toji Fushiguro was dead...........................right?

Toji's presence never really left your side even when you had (try) to sleep on your own the first night without him after the funeral. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you were sure you could still feel his hands on the small of your waist, or hear his voice from other parts of the house. God, maybe you are finally losing it.

You almost screamed your head off when you visited his grave and saw that it had been dug up. The full moon hung low in the air, lighting up the grave at which you wanted to see your late husband. The only thing that prevented you from calling the police right then and there was that there was something strange about the whole thing. Maybe it was too late to save you from your mind because the grave looked broken from the inside out...

Zombie! Toji who reached out to you carefully because he knows this entire thing is like a nightmare come true. You nearly jump out of your skin when his hand touches your shoulder, your eyes full of fear, then wonder, then unbelievable sorrow. He left you alone for too long, you had to deal with everything by yourself. You didn't pull away when his hand cupped your cheek. It was as cold as ice, proof that he was dead, had been dead, but was also standing right in front of you. The why or how didn't matter to you, all you knew is that you got your husband back.

Zombie! Toji who wasn’t sure on how he got here either. All he knows is that he woke up with the burning need to get back to you, no matter what it took. Despite everything that has happened in his life, he always had an unconventional stroke of luck every once in a while. The old tale of Halloween lifting the veil between the living and the dead was actually fucking true and he used it to his advantage

Zombie! Toji who laughed against your lips. He knew that he was always going to be yours. Your tears spilled into his mouth, salting his lips and tongue, but it only made him kiss you harder. His love for you spat in the face of the grim reaper. Taking you on top of the headstone was not how he thought he would reunite with you, but it was fitting. You welcomed him into your body like he had never left, and in the heat of climax he renewed his vows. For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, "but never will death do us part."

Zombie! Toji who did not know how much time he had so he spent every second with you like it was his last. There wasn't a single inch of your skin untouched by him. In the end, you laid in his arms inside of the casket, recounting all the moments you fell in love with each other until the sky began to lighten to start a new day. He cursed the sun for rising for stealing away his joy. You assured him that you were okay now, that one more night was all you needed. You were putting on a brave face for him, but it was needed. This time you two could say goodbye on your own terms.

Zombie! Toji who promised to come back for you next Halloween. This was a temporary setback, but in the year between he will find a way to be reunited with you forever. There was nobody else for you, so you held onto his promise like a lifeline. It will keep you going until you meet again. 

thanksss for reading! lemme know who you want to see next!!

Kinktober m.list || Ao3 || Twitter|| Ko-fi

[icariusdexx]

Another dose of silly incorrect bad batch quotes #2

Crosshair: Tech! I thought you were dead!

Tech: No, just in deep cover.

Crosshair: ...But it was an open casket.

Tech: It was very deep.

Crosshair: You’re giving me a sticker?

Omega: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Crosshair: I’m not a preschooler.

Omega: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Crosshair: I earned this, back off!

Tech: Do you have a self-care routine?

Crosshair: "Keep going bitch" said to myself in different accents.

Tech: Sometimes I'll start a sentence and I don't even know where it's going. I just hope I find it along the way.

Crosshair, taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child.

Tech, entering the room with a small cut on their ankle: Who the f-

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

" i'm going to put that mouth of yours to good use. " with Alva is so dreamy, it's not a request it's just a good prompt with him honestly!!

Talking to a friend about CoA!Alva and this line fits him and kitty!alva lol

Rated: Explicit | Warnings: fear, dubcon

A live band recording plays in the background, the stage lights are bright as they are focused on the center of the stage, and the bar is dimly lit. You are crawling backward as light footsteps approach the stage, the fallen microphone stand on the stage floor is moving the side as the tendril of the abyss follows its new master, light shallowed by shadows as they approach you. “Mr. Lorenz?” When the man who was not too long ago watching you practiced your performance and clapped when it was appropriate. How polite… You stare up in disbelief as he towers over you with the gentle smile of the man you loved before his… Death.

Luca said he died, there was a funeralーThough there was nobody in the casket. It hurt, hurt for many years, you had made plenty of songs expressing your pain and confessing feelings you wished to have told him.

“My starlight,” You were up against the stage curtains that cover the brick wall behind it, “Your voice still as angelic as ever.” His hand pets your done-up hair for tonight, your skin sparkles from the makeup done to give a glow effect as you perform, and he is still enchanted by you.

“H-how?” Trying to keep calm as one of the tendrils slithers up your legs and your arm, “...” You cringe as it feels cold and weird, “What are you?” Worried as what you are looking at is a shell that abyss is using to hurt you before it kills you… Like it did to him.

“I am still Alva,” Leaning down as his finger traces your jawline before using his thumb and index finger to tilt your head back, “But this not about me, my dear.” His eyes are purple, not the greyish blue you know well, “You are still human.” Fascinated as he sees not one robotic augmentation on you like all humans do to the point of losing their humanity. Your songs, your rebellion voiced and recorded to be broadcasted, you sing about the humanity lost. 

He draws back as you start struggling as the tendrils of the abyss bind you, “It is good you never changed,” Speaking as he removes his long coat, “I feared the worst when I found out you were having relations with Luca.” Sighing as you tried to explain yourself, “I understand, my love, grief, and loneliness are powerful forces. There is no fault in your actions.” Your head is forced to stay in place and you realize what he is doing when his hands go to his pants, “My apologies,” Tracing your lips, “Seeing you has reminded me of our past,” You look away, “You were not alone suffering, dreams of you kept me alive. The promise of seeing once more.” The sound of his pants being opened, “I'm going to put that mouth of yours to good use.”

The record stops playing, and the sound of the static echoes, you are unsure if to bite him or go along with it. You are afraid but this is Alva a man who would never hurt you. Even now he is gently encouraging you to open your mouth, to part those pretty lips. Though you are bound and held in place, he does not forget or selfishly make this about him; no, he makes sure you are caressed by the other tentacles between your legs and playing with your chest.

[nu-ephedrin]

[malrie]

for: @jasipereo, who told me i should what: in the burning maze, apparently they fly off together after jason dies and nothing happens at all. this is the nothing. wc: 1700

-

Piper had grown out her hair since Leo saw her last. He touched the ends of it, feeling the familiar softness between his fingers.

“Did you get taller?” she asked, voice strained from having cried so much. He didn’t see her expression; she was sitting in front of him on Festus, facing only the white sky. 

“I dunno,” he said, because he didn’t. Time was strange in that other place. To him, he’d been gone for only a moment. As if he hadn’t been lost at all.

She leaned backwards. Without having to ask, Leo let the internal heat from his body migrate to her. They were just below plane altitude, maybe four or five miles in the air. It was cold, but he wouldn’t let her be.

Had Piper not been there, Leo would have pried the casket open and crawled inside to lie beside him. He was sure of it. The instinct was nonsensical, even desperate, and still it pulled him like water down a drain. He wanted to see him again. He wanted to see him with his eyes closed, as though he were only asleep. And Jason had always been a peaceful sleeper. 

Back then, Piper’s iron grip on his forearm had anchored him. Maybe she felt the urge, too. Maybe they could have all fit inside. There, they could have dreamt as one, having found peace in a place where nothing could tear them apart. Together again.

“You did,” she replied. “Get taller, I mean. Just a little.”

*

Piper had a room in her grandpa’s ranch house that she hadn’t used since she was eleven. Leo inspected the off-white lace curtains, the stuffed animals on the bookshelves. She had a pink CD player and a Hello Kitty pillowcase. It was strange to be confronted with the idea that she had lived a life before him.

He helped her unpack what little she brought with her. Downstairs, Leo heard Coach’s booming timbre, comforting in its own way. He and Mellie would stay in the guest room with Chuck, leaving Leo to fend for himself in the den.

“What’re you gonna do now?” asked Piper, folding shirts and sorting them in a dresser.

Leo laid on her carpet, eyeing the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on the ceiling. “Calypso wants to enroll in school. I tried telling her secondary education was a shithole, but she wanted to experience it herself. As for me, I’m never going back. S’one of the conditions I made for living at the Waystation.”

Piper paused in her folding. Then she started up again on a pile of sweaters. She lingered on a blue one that read: Edgarton Day and Boarding School. 

“I’m starting Tahlequah High next week,” she said. 

“I’ll be sure to make your grad party, beauty queen.”

He figured. Piper liked school enough; he knew she never missed an assignment at Wilderness. Meanwhile, Leo turned every packet he got into paper planes, letting them ride the Nevada gust out his dormitory window.

“If you’re not finishing school,” she continued, “what’ll you do? Help Hemithea and Josephine?”

“That’s sorta the plan.” Leo rubbed his eyes. The stars were too old to hold any glow. “I guess… I guess I just want something to keep busy. Maybe teach shop for the kids for however long. After that, I don’t know. Being in one place too long… I’m not real good at that.”

“So no camp?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no camp. You?”

“No,” Piper said, then laughed along with him.

He knew she didn’t mean she hated either camp, their friends, or their community—they only needed distance, measured and in moderation. Jason was everywhere, after all. His lifeblood was camp legacy. In a way, that was what had taken him from them. The gods had owed Jason ten times over and this was how he was repaid. There was nothing for Leo there, least of all loyalty. It seemed Piper felt the same, even if only mirroring an inch of his resentment. 

They ate dinner. Tristan still had some lost pallor, but his charisma was hard to chip at, especially when his daughter needed him. Toothless Chuck gummed around a piece of squash while the rest of them ate a meal cooked by a friend of the family. People had been in and out of the house all day; their fridge was stocked for the entire week. The McLeans had roots here. They were loved and welcomed. Leo and Piper had stayed inside her room like homebodies until the visitors had all left.

While Mellie put Chuck down for bed, Tristan and Coach cleared the table and washed the dishes. Piper told Leo that they’d probably go out on the porch and smoke some of her grandad’s tobacco pipes once they were done, a vice her dad failed to keep secret from her.

Snickering, they imagined Coach hacking a lung while ambling upstairs to her grandpa’s study. Her grandfather kept books on topics that ranged from Indigenous history to psychology to science fiction. Aside from the collection, there was a desk with a swivel chair and a large claw-footed single-seater sofa in the corner of the room, just by the window.

Leo grabbed a book off the shelf just for the fun of it and plopped down on the sofa. The words swam around on the pages. Even if he could read it, he doubted he could parse analytical biochemistry jargon.

“I used to come up here when Grandpa was doing his lesson plans,” said Piper. Tom McLean was a structural biology professor. “I’d beg for him to play with me, but he’d just say, ‘My love, you cannot have what you want the instant you desire it.’ I liked that. Not even then was it easy for people to say no to me. He was the only one.”

Looking out the window, Leo saw the shine of Festus’s wings in the darkness. The dragon was hunkered down in the yard, closest to sleep as automatons could get.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Leo said. He rested his gaze on the horizon, which bled into the night. “Calypso’s waiting for me.”

“I know.” Piper came over to him, gently pulling the textbook away from his grasp. It forced him to look at her.

A beat passed. “I’m sorry, Piper. About Jason.”

She smiled wryly, placing Clinical Biochemistry: Techniques and Instrumentation onto the side table. She asked, “Why are you saying sorry to me?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. She stood over him, the moonlight from outside overlaying her skin like a filter, the image of an aching spector. Her face was unreadable, but tonight her eyes were one color. It was borrowed, and it was the color of his own heart: Electric blue, as vibrant as the sky once a storm had cleared. Jason.

Still standing, she raised a hand, placing it over his arm in an innocuous touch. “You loved him, too,” she said. Leo’s hackles rose, but it was true and—now that Jason was dead—harmless. “Leo, we weren’t together anymore. I broke up with him. After you died, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work it out. Work us out. Because without you, it was like… Like the lights had gone out.”

His hand grabbed her wrist, wanting to rip it away, but he couldn’t. “Wait. I-I don’t want to hear this,” he said.

If only she had never brought it up. Mellie had told him earlier in the day, with Chuck on her hip and wearing a worried frown. Piper and Jason had split some months ago. They never explained further than what they had told everyone.

“I thought,” she kept going, “that if you had come back, maybe Jason and I could have—with you… But we never got a chance.”

“Piper,” he said firmly, getting up from the seat to grab her shoulders. “You have to stop.”

“It isn’t fair. Don’t you think it isn’t fair?” Jason’s eyes watched him shake.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, at dawn. I’m moving to Indiana. I’ll come for birthdays, special days. We’ll see each other at reunions. I’ll Iris you—every day if you want! It’ll be good. Like we always were. Like we were before everything. Don’t do this, Piper.”

“You can’t stay,” she whispered. “I know because it happened to me, too. It hurt to be with him because you weren’t there. And I know what you see when you look at me. What color are my eyes, Leo? Whose are they? He used to see yours.”

It had to happen, just once, even if never again for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t even their first kiss, which had happened a lifetime ago, on some forgettable rooftop in a place that never loved them. He shivered a little as her hands came up to his neck. There was salt in his mouth from her tears. Piper made small noises, gasping in increments when they could bear parting. They tumbled back to a bookshelf, hard edges jutting against Leo’s spine.

It was important that he was the one to speak first. Not because he didn’t trust her not to compel him, but to prove that he knew she wouldn’t. Not for this.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” repeated Leo, thumb rolling down her jaw. “That’s hours away.”

*

Leo got up before the sun did. Oklahoma mornings were crisp and new, almost impossibly so. The fog in the distance cleared around the McLean property, grass dewing with small beads of fresh water. Standing on the porch now, Leo knew this could be a good home, one filled with love.

Tristan McLean saw him come out of Piper’s room. He didn’t react much, only telling him to be safe on his journey back. He’d also shaken his hand like a real man and said, “She’s stronger than I’d ever hoped.”

“Stronger than me,” Leo replied, smiling.

Seeing him, Festus crooned in happy creaks, shaking out his stiffness. As Leo took off, he saw the curtains in Piper’s window move, almost nothing. Just in case, he brought up his hand to wave goodbye.

[desperatelyneedcoffee]

Inspired by Pink Skies - Zach Bryan

Sad asf - death

Poolverine where they have Laura and Ellie (Wade's child in the comics). Logan is destined to die before Wade in every universe whether they find each other or not, whether they date or not, whether they start a family or not.

They moved to the countryside - as in hours from another house countryside - after Althea died. Ellie and Laura were taught many different things such as gun safety, how to hunt safely and efficiently, that it's okay to show your emotions, that being a mutant or even just different from the 'norm' wasn't bad and that everything would be okay.

Laura would come visit fairly often but the time away slowly increased. Ellie also left to try different things and like Laura, her visits became shorter and less often. It wasn't until Logan was on his deathbed that they came to visit for the first time in two and a half years.

Laura has flashbacks of her other Logan dying and has regrets of not visiting more, not staying to help him. He didn't think it would happen so soon but she was wrong and she is going to forever regret it. Ellie had heard of the stories of their world's Wolverine off her sister and the remaining X-Men; they seemed so similar yet so different, she doesn't know how to explain it.

Logan and Wade expected this. They knew it was coming - that's why they moved to the countryside, to live our their days together and away from anything that would try and stop it. They didn't know how much time they had left together but they knew it wasn't long with the way Logan's claws would lock up, his joints becoming stiff and clicky, growing tired quickly from hunting trips or chopping down trees for their fires.

They made the most of everything and loved each other more than anything.

The day of the funeral, everyone was there. The remaining X-Men, the new recruits, those who fought by his side on few missions, Vanessa, Peter, Dopinder, Ellie, Laura and Wade. The whole family was together again and those up above reunited with one another.

Logan got to see his X-Men, the ones he failed, the ones who still cared and forgave him. He also met this world's X-Men and was welcomed with open arms. Wade held his two children close to him throughout the service.

One by one, everyone said their goodbyes. Ellie went, then Laura and then Wade. They hung back to let everyone else say it first, knowing they would take the longest. Ellie thought about the times she spent with her dad, gaining the confidence to become who she is. Laura was stuck thinking about her first Logan and how she didn't know what to do now that her second dad was dead. The one who raised her to never be ashamed of her claws.

Wade thought about how he was originally annoyed and upset that he never got to meet this world's Logan but he's happy he didn't. Otherwise, he would never have met his Logan. He stared at his face in the casket, holding his hand which displayed his claws, showing that he is The Wolverine, The X-Men and is not afraid of who he is.

The Merc ran fingers through his hair, whispering, "I'll take care of them, Kitty.. Logan. They'll be safe. I'll probably be a while but still. I'll see you soon." Logan watched down as the three walked away together, feeling his heart break for them, "I know you will, Bub. I'll see you when you're ready," Wolverine said back to him.

He felt hands on his shoulders - it was Scott's. Both of them. A small smile appeared on his face and he turned away to face his friends. His family. Laura's first Logan gave him a small nod with a hint of a smile. It signalled that he was proud of him, of Laura, of what she has become because of this Logan. It helped ease a weird tension in his gut. Logan and the two Scott's walked back to the group, ready to be one large family.

[ptn-imagines]

What if - purely hypothetically - Oak Casket found a little kitty hiding out in the ruins of Romanesque and adopted it. What then.

I love stoic pet owners getting melted by their adorable critter companions. Oak Casket was perfect for this.

Oak Casket finds a kitten hiding out in the ruins of Romanesque

It’s a tiny black-and-white kitten with bright blue eyes and the fluffiest fur known to mankind. It can fit in a single one of Oak Casket’s palms.

Oak Casket has a distaste for the living; this is no secret. However, that’s primarily to do with humans, who are capable of all their self-serving philosophizing and hypocritical nonsense. Animals, like this poor little creature, run primarily off of instinct, with no capacity for such complex thoughts.

She does look around for a mother, but she can’t find one. A mortician she may be, but Oak Casket can’t just let this helpless creature die miserably – so she opts to take it in.

Oak Casket is not the most emotional pet owner, but she is certainly efficient. The little kitten’s needs are all met, and it isn’t long until the poor thing’s shivering has died down and its mews are of contentment, not distress.

Oak Casket ends up naming her – an animal specialist in Drifter Camp confirmed the kitten’s gender – Cerberus. Dudu points out that Cerberus is a dog. Oak Casket doesn’t care about that.

Despite this, Dudu is, of course, enamored with the kitten, and spends most of her free time playing with the kitten. Oak Casket doesn’t mind; though she’d taken Cerberus in, she didn’t feel much emotional attachment to her. If Dudu wasn’t so taken by her, Oak would’ve probably rehomed her once she was old enough.

But as everyone who has been chosen by the cat distribution system knows, whether you wanted the kitten or not, you’ll come to love it. Cerberus likes Dudu, but she loves Oak Casket – she’s prone to following the mortician around and meowing at the door to be let into the room with her if she’s locked out.

Oak Casket isn’t entirely sure when her mild annoyance with Cerberus’s antics turns to begrudging affection, but eventually, she finds herself giving into those adorable pleas more and more, opening the door and scooping the kitten into her arms.

More and more cat toys and accessories begin to pile up around Romanesque. At first, Oak Casket just got them to make sure Cerberus didn’t get underfoot, but it quickly became clear that she was remarkably calm and well-behaved for a kitten. The growing pile was now simply because Oak Casket wanted to spoil Cerberus. Her cold, dead heart had been warmed by this adorable tiny ball of fluff.

Cerberus had a cat bed of her own (shaped like a little coffin), but it got abandoned in time to sleep on top of Oak’s chest. A little kitten curled up there certainly did a lot to dispel the slightly unsettling aura of sleeping in a casket (to the eyes on an onlooker, anyway). It mostly just looked adorable.

Cerberus growing older doesn’t diminish the bond at all, either. In true “pets take after their owners” fashion, what little kittenish energy she had retained burned off with age, and Cerberus turned out to be quite the calm feline, preferring to quietly hang around Oak Casket over anything else. At that point, Oak could no longer imagine being without Cerberus’s company.

(Dudu has a scrapbook of adorable photos of Oak Casket and Cerberus. She’ll show it to you, for only five hundred thousand DisCoins…)