#perhaps it'll end with my own hand

[anyu-blue]

~

It was worse today, oddly. I got through. Convinced myself that using the 2 hours of protected time I have saved wasn’t worth using to go in later. Better to just work the whole day and get the pay. Normally the next day is better. I don’t feel as bad because I’ve slept and ebbed some of the pain away and it’s helped some part of my brain be okay too... but it wasn’t better. It was so hard to get through and I’m honestly surprised at how hard. My coworkers definitely could tell something was off and kept bugging me with mundane stuff just to talk and have me talk back. It was kind and I am grateful for their care in whatever capacity they can spare it. I used my earbuds and music to get my mind away as much as I could too... and still by the end of the day it wasn’t enough. I was in so much agony I refused to keep pushing to do the last two boxes where normally I would have tried. I took pain meds. I took extra kinds too and extra measures to avoid as much backlash as I could in all areas... still not enough. I’m a little worried that whatever that thing I had for so long that kept me going when I hit rock bottom is gone now. Cuz I’d fall so very, very far... lose all faith and hope.. and then suddenly I was ANGRY and then HAPPY because SPITE appeared out of nowhere and I had a new vigor and lease on life. .. I’m worried that won’t happen again... after my sister took everything out of me when we moved and with this tiredness only appearing to grow and grow... I don’t know that it’ll come to save me.. or if I’ll come to my own rescue like that again or whatever it is. I know leaving would hurt them.. those who claim to love me. I know. But, as ever... that little voice in the back of my head keeps telling me all the ways they took me for granted when I COULD provide their lives with something and they would absolutely be 100% fine without me. 99% of the people in my life don’t reach out first. They don’t reach out at all but are happy to tell me they’re disappointed I don’t reach out more... when I do and then am ignored, given the minimum of small talk, or am (rightfully) told they don’t have the time to be friendly at the moment. Life’s too busy for friends... especially strange ones that can’t seem to succeed in life like they have or are trying to. I have no interest in classes. I have no interest in memberships. I have very little interest in even going out especially because I’m much more comfortable wearing a mask wherever I go. I know a big part of that disinterest is because, well.. my health. Classes and gym memberships are supposed to be great to help with stuff like that... but when I get stressed in the right ways (or overdo it especially on accident from unexpected life stuff) my internals overwork and start attacking themselves, making it difficult to attend classes or make the memberships worth the cost if I can’t go/am glued to the porcelain throne and a diet not meant to help anything but get by- bare minimum for ease on system. It’s easier to not want to do it than deal with the struggles and the shame of not being able to show up... everyone everywhere gets tired of it eventually. I am trying to do what I can at home. I’m not just sitting on my ass... I still practice what Physical therapy I remember/have the sheets for... I got a small pedal bike to replace my big one I can no longer use thanks to the space issues (I’m playing with it under my desk as I type)... I like yoga when I have the energy for it. And walks. And I have invited people to go with me to the park (I don’t feel right being an adult going on my own so every ‘no’ makes me very sad, sadly).. I broke down and bought myself $160 shoes (I’m still freaking out.. TOO MUCH MONEY) to try and help with the pain so maybe I CAN just go and be on my feet on my own more outside of work... I know what foods to avoid and keep on hand to help myself, by myself... *sigh* ... but it’s just not good enough. It’s NEVER going to be good enough for anyone else. I’m told as long as it’s good enough for me that’s what matters... but I am already so alone... and I also know how bad that is. Loneliness can kill. And that not a soul does what I did for them for so long... not one of them sees how unfair it is that I HAVE to be the one to reach out/ask (legit told by my adopted parents that if I desire a relationship with them or my siblings at all *I* must be the one to reach out to them and plan events and work around their lives... I told them then and there that it works both ways. I will do it when I can... but if it is not returned, it will obviously stop. I am more a mirror now that I ever was. I give what I get. I do not have the energy to do it all anymore.... and I’m not given any by others to then give back to them).. and they never will first. It’s my fault... I had the energy at one point. I did it all. Worked multiple jobs so I could. Attended events, planned, got people together, tried and tried and tried and tried so hard for so many years to be heard and understood and to understand and I succeeded in understanding!! .... but I failed in being understood...and then I collapsed in on myself... I failed to have the energy to keep going... everyone tells me that even asking a fraction of what I did out of the kindness of my heart back is asking way too much. Not a soul can reciprocate. Not even remembering my favorite color... or date of birth... not even saving it in their phones. Well... they don’t have that energy for me. I see them doing it for others. People they love and enjoy the company of (and some they don’t but have reasons to want to impress or stay in good graces of)... and that’s where all their energy goes. Nothing left for weird ‘ol me. Because I’m too weird (and for some odd reason many believe horrid things my sister spewed to them that weren’t true then and haven’t been true since I was a literal child that didn’t know well enough. Or when she purposefully aggravated me into a state of distress so severe I was distraught... (and did they believe me when I told them she did it on purpose? That she liked doing it? Absolutely not. They still think I’m the one trying to manipulate the story/her when I made her tell them what she told me she was doing.) They can’t move past it... and nothing I’ve tried or done over the years has changed any of that because they likely think I have some sinister motive or a bomb waiting just under the surface of my skin. They literally won’t look at me. ... Honestly... this is actually reminding me of why I shouldn’t trust my sister at all. I’ve been the best I can be to her even after all the shit she’s done to me... but I don’t think I should relax and trust her. .. what an awful thing to say. And yet what kind of person does that? ... Someone who does and has fully admitted to hating every single part of me...) ... This too is a great example of why people can’t stand me. I can’t be short and sweet. Take up too much space and time- especially with words... especially with words they think has one meaning, but I know and use with another (dictionary definition- my special interest in words/what they mean)... why would people want to spare their energy if they think I’ll take up more than they want to give? And it seems, to me, that I only have anything interesting to say when life, well, sucks... because my hobbies are boring or confusing to them. My interests too niche. And who has time for things they can’t bond with people over? ... usually for them it’s TV shows, Video Games, Books, or Movies I can’t touch.... because they’re too violent and unpleasant for me. I try... and hate it and just get scoffed at for not liking it- never mind I’m happy they like it and I’m happy to listen... but, again... who has the energy to then turn around and listen to someone talk about something they have no idea of or any interest in? ... Life, for me... is filled with a lot of unfair imbalances. I do something for them... but never, EVER should I EVER ask them to do the same for me... (oh but I have to ask them to do it anyway or I’m the bad guy for not trying to engage them at all. I need to give them the chance to say ‘no’.. oh but also I can’t KEEP asking them to listen or reciprocate behaviors more than once per situation or topic because that’s just being an irritating pest) I’m preeetty convinced at this point every single one of them thinks one of the others will say ‘yes’ to me... or give back what I’ve given in some way, even if small, and that their contribution is not actually needed because someone else has got it... not realizing.. ALL of them are doing the same things... unknowingly... “someone else has the time/patience/desire to sit with Meek. Otherwise they wouldn’t be doing so well!! Someone else surely must have someone to listen to them and be kind!! Cuz I sure don’t/can’t!! And that’s okay!!”  (My sister SAYS she does it for me.. and she claims to do it WAY TOO MUCH... but in reality.. it’s once in maaaaybe 6 months at this point... and she lies and lies and lies. Blows it up to make me seem ungrateful. It’s awful to see her messages to people.) No... no I don’t... no one... but me... and it’s weighing on me so hard... because they ALL... all of them... has more than one other someone doing things for them.. remembering them... being kind... returning their favors. Friends AND family... not even one or the other.  Beautiful birthday and lesser holiday gifts and arrangements... Well wishes. Check-ins... invites... many from yours truly.. that I only include my sisters in because they feel bad for forgetting and/or don’t want to look bad... all the Holiday and Christmas gifts of last year... hundreds and hundreds of dollars (I went all out for Easter and I fought HARD for Halloween when they all PROMISED they’d plan it.. and didn’t), sure, but also thoughtful, personalized cards.. thinking of every single forgotten person I could... ALL OF THEM. Were from ME. Me ALONE. This year.... so far All the birthday gifts... Easter... everything.... save for Mother’s day for one person. ONE of the MANY who were kind to my sister!! She thought of (and spoiled) ONE. I fought to match the same for her husband for fathers day... I’m... I’m so tired. Not everyone like gifts, and I know that. Everyone has a different love language... I’ve learned SO MANY. .... not one wants to learn mine. Passes it off to the ‘next person (who also isn’t there)’... and I’ve gotten nothing back once I stopped providing all I could.. once, in their eyes, I suppose I stopped ‘earning’ my place in their lives. I have one friend who tries her best... I do. She does. But she also has an extremely hard life too. That she makes an effort is not lost on me. Not at all. I owe her my life in so many ways. I do everything every chance I get for her. She knows of my plight and my pain because I have asked, many, many times if feeling weird about a response or situation with context from both sides is wrong of me. She has never failed to be honest and, like.. SUUUUPER blunt with me. I’ve been in the wrong a few times... but for the most part... I have not been wrong for feeling so god damn IGNORED and taken for granted and... lonely. One person does not loneliness or abandonment cure, as kind as they may be when they can be. Especially if compared to literally every other person these people make these damn efforts for EXCEPT me.. aaaaand the people they’re happy to tell me all about how much they hate so they won’t do stuff for even if that person is ‘playing nice’.... I don’t think people realize how much they actually just.. don’t care for me or my presence.. if they don’t outright hate me. I haven’t always been pleasant.. I know I’m not being pleasant NOW. .. and that this is what is here for everyone to see... But I tried. So hard. For so long. To appear to be doing well. I tried to redirect my thoughts and entire being to being content and happy and fulfilled and I tried to share that with everyone. Not even in hopes of them sharing my joy, but in hopes of not dragging them down. and still... for all that effort... call me ungrateful. Go right ahead. Call me expectant. Call me selfish... Not one whom I devoted all that they asked of me to... gave anything back. I’ve said before I’ve devoted my time to the wrong people... obviously I have. They’re who is here. They’ve asked me to.. told me to sometimes as well. And still... to whom CAN I devote it all to and be treated like a worthy being in return?  My father has asked it of him... and yet I know that isn’t going to go a good direction either because I can’t stand his religion or his idea that well... I’m not trying hard enough. He fully believes I am capable of holding down a full time job, doing my hobbies, going to outings, being as ever helpful as I am, and making it entirely on my own just as he did..... when no matter how I try to tell him and show him I am not capable of that.. That I am currently at my absolute limit and pushing it every day... he will not listen. I am autistic... with autoimmune conditions... severe trauma and depression... in a climate that is demanding way too much of people. *snorts* actually... I think that’s many peoples’ problem with me right there. All these invisible issues... They see a perfectly healthy person standing before them and can’t fathom why I say I’m struggling when I also only ‘have’ to work 3 days a week... they don’t see the pain.. and I can’t actually show them the damage... and if I show any symptoms at all.. well I must be doing it for attention because I was ‘just fine before’. ... instead of realizing just how good I got at hiding it... or even just how used to the complaining and their own simple irritation at it if I ‘wasn’t going to do jack-shit about it’... when I was.. and they did nothing to help. (I also wonder how many are hiding behind their ignorance to avoid guilt. cuz I SUFFERED.. and was literally beaten for being in pain... while my siblings were brought to doctors and specialists and given everything to make sure they were okay).. I got the diagnosis on my own... multiple times over... I’ve had the x-rays and ultrasounds and antibiotics and medications and at one point I shared every. single. one. of. them. Publicly. To PROVE I’m not... not... unworthy. Faking... vying for something I don’t deserve. And.. it changes nothing... to them.. all of them.. I’m unworthy. ..eheh... I can’t tell you how many of them would spew vile and venom at me for using that word... planting that definition on their actions. But it is literally what they show me every. single. time.

[rosaeh]

my jason todd's headcanons | II

biter with sharp canines !! like this man has fangs and it's both cute and hot.

wavy hair, but he doesnt define his curls much, he doesnt have time for that. and he has is helmet on almost all the time, so his hair end up flat sometimes lmao which makes the curls worse.

not that his hair isn't pretty but it could be better, you know ?

however he lets you define his curls when you both lay together, and your hands find their way in his hair —like it always does when your together. even lets you buy curls products. his hair is way better since you guys are together.

thoughts on tattoo and piercing : i saw someone saying it's like personalizing your character. but i feel like jason doesn't feel like he owns his body anymore. so it could both be a way to try and reconquer his body, or he wouldnt do it because there's no point.

either way i like sleeves tattoo probably (he would so let you color it). and i like tattoo that cover/follow the line of his autopsy scar like the all caste tattoo.

and piercing i like a few ones on the ears. and now that i think of it, a tongue piercing would be REAL hot. perhaps one on the brow too.

private but not secret relationship with jason todd.

jason with a picture of reader in his wallet. he is old fashioned like that.

and while on patrol, he tends to keep a picture of you in the pocket inside his jacket, near his heart. he claims it protect him. (he would definitely sit somewhere after a patrol, all beaten up, and he'd take out your picture, whispering a thanks for keeping me safe as if you were his own personal godess)

«I'm not a religious person, but I do sometimes think God made you for me.» - Normal People. (one of my fav quote !!)

like, come on, this man literally greet his bed, of course he speaks to a picture of you.

bonus point if you write a note at the back of the picture. makes this grown man melt.

and you do actually keep him safe, because every night he has to make sure he comes back to you.

speaking of ! he would literally crawl into bed with you. he'd discard his helmet and gear, letting them fall on the floor — he'll take care of it in the morning, all he wants for now is to hold you. if he's not too tired he'll take a quick shower before crawling into bed with you.

temple kisses, so that he can smell your shampoo. but honestly he just turns his head when holding you and reach to kiss without really carrying where it lands — you mouth, your hair...he loves it all anyway.

im 100% sure he gives you a little "trinket" to use as a keychain, and you like just have to press it if you're having trouble, and it'll send him your location. he'll be there in less than a minute top.

[emptymasks]

They're done! I really want to try and make prints again as it's been years and I've never felt like I was very good at making whole posters. Dipping my toe back in with these silly chibis of each Papa with every Ghoul they've had. Perhaps they can also work as a guide for those wanting to learn all the characters? I added in a fair amount of little references with the Ghoul's poses so it'll be interesting to see what you guys figure out and notice!

The prints are on pre-order and won't ship out until November. I've put up 25 of each to start with but if they get low on stock I'll keep adding more until I have them printed and then it'll be a set amount in stock.

Also a reminder about the stickers of every Ghost Papa and Ghoul that I made earlier this year that are also available as customisable badges! Thank you so much to everyone who already bought them and got Etsy to list them as a 'bestseller' for a while. They're still up and in stock.

EDIT: someone informed me Delta was not in Secondo's era so sorry little water ghoul but he got edited out of that drawing.

Characters featured on the prints and are also available on stickers and badges: Papa Emeritus I / Primo, Papa Emeritus II / Secondo, Papa Emerirus III / Terzo, Papa Emeritus IV / Cardinal Copia, Aether, Air, Alpha / Fire, Aurora, Chain / Water, Cirrus, Cowbell, Cumulus, Delta, Dewdrop / Sodo, Earth, Ifrit, Ivy, Lake, Mist, Mountain, Omega / Quintessence, Pebble, Phantom, Phil / Special Ghoul, Rain, Sunshine, Swiss, Zephy.

I can’t link to my Etsy without risking Tumblr hiding the post from tag search results, but the link is in my pinned post, my carrd, I’m emptymasks on Etsy. Reblogs help support artists more than likes ❤️

[ID: Four landscape drawings, one for each of Ghost's Papas and the Ghouls that were in the band with them while they were the lead singer. Each Papa is in the center with each of their ghouls standings to their sides. Every character has their name written above or below them, on brightly coloured backgrounds for each Papa's robe colour. Also, individual pixel art chibi drawings of 69 characters from various European musicals (listed above) that are available as stickers. These drawings are also available as badges where they are placed inside circles to show what they will look like as physical button badges, some of them with plain colour backgrounds and some with 1-3 different pride flags as examples of how you can customise the backgrounds.]

For those who want to know what the little references in the prints are and don't want to guess, they're under the cut:

Omega can be a stompy boy when he's playing guitar, Alpha likes to throw up peace signs, Air is very found of the rock horns hand symbol, there's one close-up photo of Lake out there where you can clearly see his black sclera contacts and he's doing double 'horns' hand symbol, Mountain infamously takes his shoes off when playing the drums and leaves them on the stage at the site of his drumkit, Dewdrop likes to like.. most things including his guitar and his picks and sometimes his own hand, Pebble liked to hand out his drumsticks at the end of shows by dropkicking them into the crowd, Omega wore a flower tucked into his guitar strap during one show and Terzo constantly flirts with him more than other ghouls, Delta is suspected to be the ghoul that attempted to kick an audience member off stage when they climbed onstage and attempted to kiss Terzo, Zephyr was the only band member and only keyboardist who sat down while playing, the special ghoul played by Tobias wore a nametag 'Phil' in an interview, Swiss constantly is showing all his teethies with his smiles and always wiggling and moving around, Aether and Dewdrop often interact with Dew teasing/bothering Aether, Dew and Rain also often interact with Dew constantly reaching to grab his neck and attempt to kiss him, aaaand I think that's everything I intentionally included other than just generally tried to get the poses and expressions to match the personality we've seen from each ghoul.

[nnight-dances]

PICTURE YOU

PAIRING: karina x fem!reader (reader has periods)

GENRE: fluff, smut (explicit, but not too much?)

TROPES: karina comes back home with a bob and you go crazy essentially. also yeah this is the same universe as CASUAL

LISTEN TO: picture you by chappell roan

NOTE: lol not me breaking the hiatus with this karina fic on a random friday... but come on you can't blame: just look at her!!! actually lost my mind when i saw the new hair reveal like???? have u considered my feelings??? also yea i guess i just associate my karina fics with chappell roan songs now sorry. also also i have been in a crisis once again trying to figure out if i'm bi or just a lesbian so perhaps that is where this fic came from maybe perhaps! anway, pls enjoy <3

in your defence, you were on your period. and you'd been burnt out after the past few weeks straight from hell at college. you'd lost sleep almost every single night and you didn't remember the last time you'd felt the rush of anxiety not be there in your veins. all that to say, you were in a specially fragile mental state when karina came home with a bob. 

at first you didn't even recognize her. you'd looked up from your phone where you'd been mindlessly scrolling to take your mind off the stress and then back down, thinking it was weird that a random chick had entered your room. you'd pinned it to be one of karina's friends but as soon as you said karina's name in your head, your neck snapped back up to look at her: "karina?" 

the girl burst into laughter at your shocked exclamation, the ends of her hair hitting her neck. "yes, it's me, jagiya. did you not recognize me?" she's still laughing but you feel something like a fainting spell coming on, with the way your vision blurs and your heartbeat threatens to explode. 

"jagiya?" karina's voice is speckled with doubt now, crossing your shared room to stand closer to your bedside where you lay. her cold fingertips greeted your bare shoulder, "do you not like it?" 

you can't speak for the longest time, just staring back at your girlfriend in utter shock. karina is starting to interpret your silent shock as horror when you finally break the stillness, hand on her jaw bringing her lips to your hungry ones. you devour her, lips overpowering hers as you slip your tongue into her mouth with the kind of force that has karina gasping. 

it is her hand at your chest that stops the kiss, her eyes wide with flustered amusement. "i'm guessing that means you like it?" 

"rina," your voice is a whisper, so drenched in longing that it surprises your own ears, "you're divine. i don't i can handle this." you feel weak all of a sudden, falling to your pillow with a huff, but eyes never leaving karina.

"i'm sorry i didn't think a haircut would get you this worked up," karina laughs, climbing up your bed, shuffling into the space between your legs. "but i'm not complaining. you've never kissed me like a starving woman before."

you groan, "don't tease me. i'm just– look, you're already like the hottest person on this campus and if that wasn't enough of a nightmare, you've gone and gotten yourself a bob. now i'm gonna have to fight off the bitches who didn't know you were gay!" 

"did you just say nightmare–"

"yes. i have to live knowing that i've outdone myself with my very first college girlfriend. i'll never reach these heights again."

karina runs a hand through your hair with a smile, "who says you won't always have me?"

you give her an incredulous look, "really? with this bob, it'll only be hours before there's a line of lesbians outside our door begging for your number."

"well, that's too bad," her hand's found its way up your shirt somehow, "i'm taken."

you hum an acknowledgement. then, you sit up to face her, cupping her face in your hands. slowly, you kiss her. longingly. fiercely. 

you pull away to rest your forehead against her, your hand busy exploring the new form of her hair. it's thrilling, the way you can access her neck so much easier. your fingertips rest at her strong shoulder and your lips trail their path, lingering at the valley between her jaw and her throat. you place a soft kiss there and then feeling the tremble of her nervous breath, you go in with more bite, leaving a mark. 

you feel karina's hand clutching at the material of your shirt, the squeezing a pleasant reminder of the way you were making her feel. "i might just be the luckiest girl to exist," you mumble, making your way down to her collarbones. karina's response is a guttural moan, her hand against your waist pushing you closer to her chest now. 

"mhm, there's one way to shoo your fangirls away," you chuckle, admiring the patchwork of blooming bruises on karina's neck. she's flushed, and even better, speechless. 

"you're killing me, y/n," karina whines, clawing at your shirt to take it off. you shake your head, stopping her movements. 

"no, you're the one that's killing me," you complain, lifting karina's tank top before she can protest. "let me at least show you how you make me feel." 

you really do devour karina that afternoon: her toned body spread over your sheets like a dream that you couldn't afford. but it was real. you know because you took your time with her, touching and feeling every inch of her warm body flush against yours: the little hairs on her skin dancing against your hot touch, and the veins running hot to greet your touch. 

you've just traversed the landscape of her abdomen when she sits up, eyes blown out with pleasure. "y/n, i think i'm gonna pass out if you keep at it." 

you look up from between her legs with a grin, "really? then you've just started to understand how i feel–" 

before you can continue your adminstrations, she tugs you up, lips beckoning yours. "let me eat you out," she pleads softly as she pulls away from the kiss. and you relish in the sound of her begging you to let her please you, the actual goddess in between your arms. 

"as much as i'd love that," you peck her nose, "'m on my period, babe."

"you know i don't care," she starts and then shivers when your hands find the hem of her panties. 

"don't worry 'bout me, rina," you assure her, "let me make you feel good today, 'kay?" she nods, coming apart so easily while you talk her through it, showering her with praises like there was no end to it. and you'd do it for the rest of your life. watching karina's skin pulse under your touch and the way her eyes were hooded by her short hair, in the end it was always worth it. 

[emmiesoverthemoon]

emergency kitty babysitter's club

pairing: platonic ot8 x reader

word count: 7.1k

summary: you have to head out of town and you can't leave your precious cat alone, so you decide to call in a favour from your favourite 8 friends.

tags: fluff. cat nonsense. established friendship. skz being skz

You don't anticipate chaos. Not at first at least.

In fact, you expect this to go quite smoothly. After all, the request is simple, the time commitment minimal, and your companions—though chaotic—are all capable adults. Mostly. You tell yourself that a cat-sitting arrangement with your friend group is no different from asking anyone else. Perhaps it will even be charming. Domestic. Bonding.

You should have known better.

The group chat has barely been appropriately renamed to “emergency kitty babysitter's club🐾” when panic begins to unfold.

channie: wait is something wrong why is it named that???

hyunjin: if this is a real emergency i’m going to cry

seungmin: i bet it’s something ridiculous like ‘her plant looked sad’

you: wow okay rude. it is NOT a plant this time thank you.

you: i need someone to watch my daughter, princess murder volcano for the weekend pls pls pls😼

A long pause follows. A virtual silence, if you will. Then—

han: i’m sorry her name is WHAT...

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Princess. Murder. Volcano,” you repeat aloud, as if saying it in your own voice might lend it dignity. As if verbal confirmation would translate through to the men when the conversation was indeed, online. The cat in question is peacefully purring in your lap, snoozing and occasionally huffing or twitching, as if she is in the peak of dreamland.

you: i didn't name her that

you: she chose it herself

jeongin: what kind of cat chooses her own name ???

minho: the dangerous kind. i remember her. she scratched my thigh and then stole my snack.

you: that was one time! she's just a baby

hyunjin: she stared straight into my damn soul. don’t get me started on MY SHIRT. i still have nightmares abt it. she knows things we don't

you: okay....dramatic... no daughter of mine has been raised to behave in such a way

you: anyway listen. i’ll be gone for three days for my cousin’s wedding. i just need you guys to check in, feed her, play with her a bit ! nothing wild. she mostly just sleeps and runs up and down the hallway.... pleaseeee !! i'll treat you when i come back

felix: i’ll do it!! 🥺 i love cats

binnie: me too! this’ll be fun 🤩🤩

minho: you are all fools. she is not a cat. she is a small, elegant war criminal.

seungmin: sounds like your type hyung

You close your eyes and count to ten.

They do, in the end, agree. Through passive-aggressive commentary, chaotic enthusiasm, and mild dread, they do accept the mission. You feel something close to warmth bloom in your chest. Relief, maybe. Gratitude.

Foolish, foolish you.

Because no amount of love or loyalty can prepare a group of overworked idols for one deceptively fluffy, emotionally manipulative, semi-feral feline with the spiteful intelligence of a Victorian widow plotting the downfall of every man who ever wronged her. You're sure that it will be okay—she is not one to misbehave for you!

On the day of your departure, you smile and you wave goodbye to the boys. You leave your precious, sweet, innocent daughter, Princess Murder Volcano in their hands.

And so it begins.

You have yet to even reach the airport security line before your phone begins vibrating incessantly in your bag.

The group chat has transformed into a war room.

channie: she’s glaring at me

felix: nooo she’s just curious ���🥺 she’s probably getting used to you

minho: she’s plotting his downfall.

seungmin: if we just don't leave the back door open it'll be fine

You resist the urge to laugh aloud. Instead, you open the chat and peek at the latest photo: Princess Murder Volcano perched on top of your fridge, fluffed out like a disapproving cloud, eyes narrowed at the mere concept of human interaction, let alone with a man. Her ears are slightly tilted outward and back, and her boofy tail curls and uncurls like a fuse.

you: she can be people shy at first! it's fine i promise☺️gtg, i’m at security!

You really should know better.

Day One's debacles begin with Chan, who has shown up with a clipboard.

There are bullet points, color-coded sticky tabs, and a hydration log. He has scheduled enrichment time, litter scooping, feeding windows with optional treat intervals. He has printed out an actual feeding plan and is now consulting it while crouching near her pink food bowl.

“She gets fourteen grams in the morning and ten in the evening, right? Split into two intervals to match her natural hunting cycle?”

“Sure,” Seungmin says, already bored. “Why not teach her to file taxes while you’re at it?”

Princess Murder Volcano sniffs the food and walks away, choosing instead to stare unblinking at Chan from several steps away, paws tucked neatly beneath her body like a loaf of bread with grievances.

He attempts to coax her closer with a laser pointer. She does not even blink.

“Enrichment prevents behaviour problems,” Chan mutters, turning the dot in desperate, swirling patterns across the hardwood flooring. “Keeps their brains active. Lowers stress hormones.”

After an embarrassingly long time, Princess does move, albeit not for the laser pointer; instead she leaps onto the kitchen counter and reaches one paw out. Slowly, with deep intent, she knocks his full water bottle off the island. The metal hits the floor with a loud thud.

Chan stares, stunned by her audacity. She blinks unapologetically and returns to her loafing position.

“Well. Okay.”

Minho, predictably, arrives with armour. Not literal armour—but there is a cautiousness to him that screams veteran of previous battles.

“She remembers me,” he mutters, standing stiffly just inside the door. “I know she does.”

“She’s a cat, hyung,” Jeongin says, watching from the safety of the hallway.

“Exactly. She remembers.”

Minho kneels slowly, cautiously. He extends a small stuffed mouse toy attached to a string. She sniffs it once, then lashes out with surgical precision. A single clawed swipe—nothing dramatic, just enough to leave a faint raised red line trailing down his knuckles.

Minho retracts his hand like he has touched a stovetop.

“She’s gentle,” Felix offers, concerned.

“She’s vengeful,” Minho replies, moving to the kitchen and muttering something about boundary-training and spiritual warfare. He proceeds to scatter cucumber slices across the floor in a perfect circle and perches behind the couch to observe.

“She won’t cross it,” he says grimly.

She immediately does, as if spite itself fuelled her small being.

Hyunjin arrives like he is walking onto a battlefield dressed for the Met Gala.

Hair messy but in the most perfect way, rings meticulously stacked on his fingers, scarf flowing behind him like a war banner. He steps inside and freezes, locking eyes with the cat perched atop your windowsill like a queen guarding her castle.

“Ah,” he says softly. “It’s you.”

The others barely glance up. This is normal for Hyunjin.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he continues, toeing off his shoes. “That day you stole my heart... and then shredded it.”

“She sat in your laundry basket,” Han deadpanned from the couch.

“She clawed my silk shirt,” Hyunjin corrects, voice laced with betrayal. “She knew it was silk I swear.”

Princess Murder Volcano yawns.

He drops his bag with theatrical flair and strides forward slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“You and I,” he says, his voice low, “have unfinished business.”

The cat does not move.

Hyunjin crouches, level with her gaze. “Do you yield?”

Her tail twitches, as if challenging him.

A slow, intense silence descends upon the room. Felix stops mid-sentence. Jeongin holds his breath. Even Minho peeks over the back of the couch like a drama-hungry spectator.

And then—lightning fast—she leaps down from the sill and brushes against Hyunjin’s legs on her way to the food bowl. Not submissive. Not friendly. Just... dismissive.

Hyunjin stands there, stunned.

“She... walked past me.”

“She’s over it,” Seungmin says, “You should be too.”

“No,” Hyunjin breathes. “She won. She chose kibble over me.”

He drops onto the arm of the couch like a spurned lover, eyes dark with tragic reflection.

“She’s more powerful than I imagined.”

Changbin enters the space with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever at a birthday party.

“PRINCESS!” he bellows, holding out a treat with both hands. “WHO’S A LITTLE DANGER? WHO’S GOT TINY MURDER IN HER PAWS?”

Princess drawls out a long meow in reply.

The room stills.

“She—she talked to me,” Changbin whispers.

“No, she warned you,” Minho says without looking up from his cucumber circle.

Changbin sits cross-legged, letting her sniff his hand. She headbutts his palm once—then immediately darts to the other side of the room as fast as possible like nothing significant had ever happened.

“She’s playing mind games,” Seungmin notes.

“She’s mysterious,” Changbin defends, completely smitten.

Han, meanwhile, is documenting everything.

There’s a ring light set up in the hallway. He films in whispered tones like he’s in a nature documentary. From behind the bookshelf, you can hear him narrating.

“This is day one,” he says solemnly. “She’s taken the high ground. Morale is fracturing. Chan has retreated to the kitchen. We’ve lost Minho to paranoia and Hyunjin to drama school delusions.”

He zooms in on the cat as she licks her paw like she owns the place.

“She shows no sign of fear. No remorse. Only mild boredom. I think she’s toying with us.”

“She is,” Jeongin says flatly.

Felix brings a level of sincerity no one else can match.

He sits near the coffee table, legs criss-cross on the floor, hands cupped and eyes full of stars.

“Hi, baby,” he coos gently. “You don't have to come over if you don't want to. I'm just happy to share your space with you. I come in peace...”

Princess blinks and lets her eyes bore into Felix.

He gently places a treat in front of him and looks away, nonthreatening. She creeps forward, her tiny white paws creating dainty steps. She swiftly munches up the treat, making loud chewing noises as she looks up to him.

And then, like a miracle, she pads forward, climbs into his lap, and curls up into a small spherical ball of cream fur.

“She chose me,” Felix breathes.

She stretches one paw and knocks his phone off of his thigh to the floor with a soft thud.

He beams nonetheless.

Seungmin does not volunteer to help with the cat. He simply shows up—hood up, earbuds in, sipping a coffee—and looks around like he already regrets it.

“She’s not going to eat you, she’s actually really nice!” Felix assures him.

“That is not what I’m worried about,” Seungmin replies blandly, “I’m more concerned that I will become emotionally attached and she will ruin me.”

The cat blinks at him from atop your bookshelf.

He blinks back.

A beat passes.

Seungmin sighs and takes a seat on your sofa, pulling out his laptop like he is prepared to work from within enemy territory. He does not try to pet her. He does not speak in high-pitched tones. He simply exists near her, radiating mild disdain and infinite patience.

Oddly… she seems intrigued.

He catches her watching him, head tilted ever so slightly. When he slides his iced coffee onto the side table, she’s down in a flash, silently stalking over.

“Boundaries,” Seungmin warns, not even looking up.

She presses her nose to the condensation on his cup. He shifts the cup a small distance away. She shifts closer. They lock eyes.

“This is not a power struggle,” he mutters. “You will not win.”

She flops dramatically onto the table and begins licking her paw.

Seungmin exhales through his nose. “You’re ridiculous.”

But—he adjusts the cup. Just slightly. So she will not get brain freeze.

“Softie,” Han teases, watching from across the room.

“I will sue you,” Seungmin replies calmly.

When she curls up next to him twenty minutes later, back pressed against his leg like a smug little heater, he pretends not to notice.

He scrolls through his phone at low volume.

She purrs, sending vibrations of a healing frequency through his leg.

He glances down. “You’re manipulative.”

She yawns and stretches, her paw stretching out to push against his thigh.

“…Fine. You are a little cute.”

And finally, Jeongin, youngest, least experienced, attempts to contribute by making popcorn for everyone. But alas, the microwave begins to smoke.

“I can feel her staring at the microwave like she wants to set it on fire with her mind,” he reports, waving a dish towel near the smoke detector.

In attempt to clear some of the smoke from the popcorn bowl, he slides the glass door which leads to the backyard open for exactly twelve seconds.

A breeze slips in. A white blur streaks across the living room floor.

“Wait,” Jeongin says, eyes widening. “Where’s the cat?”

Everyone becomes quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Not earned. Just that too still sort of hush that lands like a dropped pin in a ticking bomb room.

Felix’s head whips around. His whole body jerks upright, like his soul has left his body and come crashing back all at once.

“She was just on the couch,” he says, eyes already scanning the room. “Right here. Right here—where is she?”

No answer.

Only the soft creak of the barely ajar screen door, further nudged open by a lazy gust of wind.

Minho reacts first.

No sound. No warning. Just pure instinct—he vaults over the arm of the couch and lunges for the door like a SWAT officer. He throws it wide, scanning the yard in one sweeping glance, already halfway onto the porch.

“She’s out,” he confirms darkly. “Backyard perimeter compromised.”

“What?!” Chan bolts upright from the kitchen island, eyes wide and already haunted. “How did she—”

“The door,” Seungmin mutters from under his breath, standing with stiff annoyance. “The one I said not to leave open?”

“Technically it was closed,” Han says, following behind with his arms full of cat toys and very little shame. “Just… lightly. Emotionally closed.”

“She’s a cat,” Hyunjin says, appearing in the doorway in a billowing cardigan. “Not a ghost.”

Jeongin is peering out the window, pupils blown like saucers. “She’s in the garden beds. I see her. She’s rolling in the dirt like she belongs there. She's gonna be all dirty!”

And she is.

Princess Murder Volcano—tail flicking, eyes glowing in the sun like two shards of vengeful turquoise—sits proudly among the petunias like a warlord surveying her domain.

“Do not spook her,” Minho warns, raising one hand. “Don't even think about calling her name.”

“She’s already seen us,” Felix whispers, pressing his forehead to the glass. “She’s watching. She knows. She knows everything.”

“She’s licking her paw,” Changbin says, breathless. “Is that... a threat?”

“It’s worse,” Hyunjin replies solemnly. “It’s mockery.”

The mission unfolds in chaotic fragments.

Chan is pacing the kitchen, pulling together what he calls an “extraction strategy.” Of course, no one listens.

Jeongin is already outside with a blanket, tiptoeing through the grass like a nervous cartoon thief. She turns her head slowly, tracking his every step.

“I'm just visiting,” he says softly. “Just a simple gardener. I mean no harm. I'm benevolent—”

She hisses, a sound like a kettle left to scream too long. Jeongin flinches so hard he nearly topples backward into the bush of roses.

“She’s not playing,” he yelps, scampering back toward the house. “She is not playing!”

Felix crouches at the back door, treats in one hand, heartbreak in the other. “Sweetheart,” he calls gently. “You remember me, right? I gave you a treat. You let me boop your nose. That meant something to me.”

She blinks, then turns away nonchalantly.

“Cold,” Hyunjin murmurs from inside. “She’s colder than an ex.”

“She knows we’re panicking,” Seungmin says, rubbing at his temples. “She’s feeding off it.”

“Okay,” Han says, now back with what appears to be a laser pointer strapped to a stick. “New tactic. Diversion and distraction. We blind her with red dot science, someone sneaks in from the east.”

Minho ignores him. He is moving again—silent, smooth, low to the ground.

You would almost think he had trained for this. He probably has, considering his own cats.

He rounds the edge of the deck, eyes locked, stance relaxed. The cat watches him, tail twitching like a fuse.

The moment stretches—

And explodes.

She bolts straight up the nearest tree.

Minho stops mid-step, closes his eyes briefly like he is experiencing a full system failure, then turns slowly on his heel and walks back into the house.

“She is in the oak tree,” he reports dully. “That's as far as I go.”

“She’s gone feral,” Han gasps.

“She's been feral,” Seungmin mutters.

“She’s majestic,” Felix whispers again.

Five of the boys pace aimlessly. One climbs a fence. One googles “do cats feel remorse.”

And Jeongin, still in his socks, saves the day.

He kneels near the garden path—no fanfare, no grand speeches—and opens a pouch of tuna, the stinky kind, the kind you only use in emergencies or emotional blackmail.

The snap of the foil seal is the only sound in the yard.

And slowly, like a queen descending from her throne, Princess Murder Volcano pads down the tree.

She does not run. She saunters. She stops three times to clean her paw. She makes eye contact with everyone.

Then she walks right into the kitchen, brushes the length of her body against Felix’s leg affectionately, and curls up on the floor like nothing ever happened.

Silence again. Except now, it is different. Heavier. Awestruck.

“She is chaos incarnate,” Hyunjin says finally.

“She is victory,” says Minho.

“She is unbothered,” says Jeongin, holding the empty tuna pouch like a relic from war.

“She is grounded,” says Chan, grabbing his clipboard. “Indefinitely.”

The cat yawns and knocks the treat jar off the counter.

Day Two begins with hope. Dangerous, foolish, hubristic hope.

The morning is bright. Birds are chirping. The cat is purring, curled at the foot of Chan’s bed like a cherub who has never committed a single crime.

“You know,” Chan says, sipping coffee and watching her fondly, “I think we’re getting the hang of this.”

Seungmin looks up from his phone. “Did you just say that out loud?”

“I’m just saying she seems… relaxed. Peaceful. Like she trusts us.”

Hyunjin pokes his head into the kitchen, blinking sleepily. “What are we talking about?”

“The cat,” says Felix, feeding her another treat with the reverence of a man giving communion. “She’s mellow today.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin says, yawning. “So we’re jinxing it early. Cool.”

The idea comes from Minho.

Which is important, because it means no one can argue.

“She’s filthy,” he says bluntly, arms crossed. “She smells like mulch and attitude. She's got patches of green and brown all over her, her fur was white when we arrived.”

“She rolled in the flowerbed and played in the grass,” Jeongin adds from the couch, nose wrinkled. “Like, rolled. Fully. I watched.”

“She looks happy,” Han says, filming a slow zoom of her face. “This is the look of a woman who’s done crimes and will do more.”

“Right,” Minho continues, ignoring them all. “Which is why we’re bathing her.”

Silence.

Then seven people speak at once:

“You what—”

“No no no—”

“Do you want to die—”

“Minho, I care about you—”

“She’s going to eat us,” says Seungmin, entirely serious.

“She is literally purring right now,” Minho replies. “It’s the perfect time.”

“That’s a trap,” Chan says.

“She’s coiled,” adds Han. “Like a spring. Or a snake. Or a regret.”

Felix looks pale. “Do we have a will? Like… a shared one?”

Despite every sign from the universe, the decision is made.

The bathtub is filled—warm, shallow, with a drizzle of cat-safe soap.

Hyunjin lights a candle “for peace.”

Han plays gentle jazz “to soothe the mood.”

Jeongin Googles “feline CPR” just in case.

Felix brings in a towel he warmed in the dryer. “Because if we’re going to die,” he says quietly, “we should do it softly.”

Then: the lift.

Minho picks her up—gently, firmly, reverently—and she allows it.

Allows it.

The calm before the storm.

He lowers her into the water.

And hell opens its eyes.

She does not scream. She screeches.

A blood-curdling, feral wail that hits octaves human ears were not built for.

In one fluid motion, she launches from Minho’s arms, scrambles up his shoulder, over the curtain rod, and disappears between the ajar bathroom door and the wall.

“WE LOST VISUAL,” Han yells, diving for his camera like a war correspondent.

“HOW IS SHE WET AND DRY AT THE SAME TIME,” Seungmin shouts, slipping on a towel and crashing into the doorframe.

Felix is on his knees, arms out. “It’s okay, baby. We’re sorry. We respect your boundaries. Please—”

“I SAW MY LIFE FLASH BEFORE MY EYES,” Chan wheezes from the hallway floor, clutching his ribs.

Water is everywhere—on the ceiling, in the walls, soaked into the very foundation of the house. Someone is crying. It might be Jeongin.

Minho stands in the center, drenched and bleeding from a scratch across his cheekbone, eyes distant.

“…She drew blood,” he says faintly.

“You drew her wrath,” Hyunjin corrects, holding an ice pack to his forearm.

“She did this with her eyes open,” Han says, holding up footage that looks like a scene from a horror film.

Jeongin is curled in a towel cocoon, whispering, “She looked at me and I felt… judged.”

Thirty minutes later, the bathroom is destroyed, the cat is mysteriously pristine, and no one knows how the towel rack got bent like that.

She is lounging again. Dry. Groomed. Purring.

Minho walks past her like a man just out of war.

“She let you think you were in control,” Chan murmurs.

“She let me live,” Minho replies.

“Was the bath worth it?” Seungmin asks.

Minho does not answer. He just opens a can of tuna, places it before her like a tithe to an ancient god, and leaves the room in silence.

Later, evening sweeps through the house. A sweet, domestic dream. One full of good intentions and garlic bread.

“We’ll make dinner,” Chan had said, sleeves rolled up and optimism shining in his eyes. “Something simple. Cozy. Homemade.”

Jeongin had nodded eagerly, already pulling out mixing bowls. “Like a family.”

“We are a family,” Felix had smiled, clutching a whisk like it meant something.

In the background, Minho had narrowed his eyes. “What are you all plotting?”

“Love,” Han replied, unconvincingly.

The house fills with delicious smells. Onion sizzling in olive oil. Dough rising on the counter. Tomato sauce simmering in a pot that Felix insists on stirring with one hand while cuddling a dish towel with the other.

“You stir it so lovingly,” Jeongin observes.

Felix beams. “You have to respect the sauce.”

Hyunjin floats in from the hallway, sleeves rolled, lip gloss shimmering, “I've come to taste.”

“You've come to steal bites,” Minho corrects, slapping his hand away from the tray of garlic bread.

“She’s watching us,” Jeongin whispers suddenly.

All heads turn.

Princess Murder Volcano sits atop the fridge like a gargoyle in judgment, pupils blown wide. Tail twitching. Back hunched.

Chan narrows his eyes. “She’s got the zoomies.”

“No,” Hyunjin murmurs. “She’s got plans.”

It happens all at once.

One moment, Felix is piping filling into ziti shells, Han is singing into a ladle, and Jeongin is kneading dough with flour on his nose.

The next, there is a thud, a growl, and a blur of white fury tearing across the countertop like a tiny demonic tornado.

“NO—” Chan lunges for the sauce pot. Too late. The spoon flips. The tomato sauce arcs in the air like a slow-motion crime.

“THE SAUCE—!” Felix cries out, reaching with both hands.

It lands on Jeongin’s hoodie.

She leaps again—onto the drying rack, which collapses under her wrath. Metal clatters. A bowl crashes to the floor and shatters like a scream.

“She’s climbing the spice rack!” Minho shouts.

“She’s in the spice rack,” Han corrects. “She’s wearing the cinnamon like war paint!”

The cat zips past, yowling—a streak of fur and chaos. She skids across the freshly mopped tiles, slams into the pantry door, then bounces back with renewed energy.

“I feel the adrenaline,” Hyunjin gasps, flattened against the fridge. “She’s faster than light. She’s broken the sound barrier. She’s a myth.”

“She’s going to knock over the—”

CRASH.

Flour. Everywhere. A puff of white explodes like someone’s summoned a baking ghost.

Felix vanishes inside the cloud.

“Are you alive?!” Jeongin coughs, blinking through flour tears.

A flour-covered hand emerges, waving weakly. “Tell the sauce… I loved it.”

They try to corner her. They try.

Minho leads the charge, wielding a laundry basket like a net. “Block the exits. Coordinate. Outthink her.”

“She has no thoughts,” Han yells. “She’s pure instinct!”

“She’s in the cupboard!” Jeongin shouts, peeking inside and immediately slamming it shut. “She stared into me. She knows my sins.”

Meanwhile, Chan stands silently in the center of the room, hands on hips, face unreadable.

“She has chosen violence,” he says simply. “And seasoning.”

Eventually, the chaos fades. The sauce is salvaged. The ziti somehow managed to survive.

Princess Murder Volcano re-emerges covered in flour, a single noodle stuck to her side, and promptly curls up in the sink to nap like nothing happened.

Jeongin leans against the counter, breathing hard. “She broke three things.”

“She broke my sense of peace,” Hyunjin murmurs.

“She broke the laws of physics,” says Han.

Felix just stares into space. “The filling. It… it flew.”

Minho tosses a towel onto the counter and sighs. “Next time, we order pizza.”

“She’d still attack the box,” Seungmin says from the doorway, sipping water like he has seen this all before.

Chan places the last clean dish on the rack, closes his eyes, and whispers, “I miss when we were in charge.”

There is a night time rotation schedule taped to the fridge. A real one. On paper. Color-coded.

“For our sanity,” Chan had declared, waving a highlighter like a sword. “For survival,” Seungmin added, darkly.

Because she does not sleep alone.

Oh no.

She selects her human—a new one each night, like royalty distributing favour—and curls up precisely where they had hoped to stretch their legs.

She is warm. She is heavy. She is a little loaf of tyranny.

Tonight, the duty falls to Han.

He approaches the bedroom like a man entering war.

Blanket: comfortable. Pillow: fluffed. Water: on the nightstand. Notebook: ready, just in case inspiration strikes.

He is calm. Composed. Hopeful.

“She’s already in there,” Felix warns from the hallway, whispering like it is cursed knowledge. “Claimed the center of the bed.”

Han squares his shoulders. “This is fine. I’m flexible.”

“She sleeps diagonally,” Jeongin says, walking past with the empty cat food dish. “No remorse.”

“Love requires sacrifice,” Han mutters, and enters.

The light is soft. The sheets are warm. She is… watching.

Perched on his pillow. Eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Tail curled, neat and smug.

Han smiles with gentle dread. “Hey, queen. Mind if I…?”

He lifts the blanket. Slips in.

She does not move.

The seconds tick by.

He turns slightly. She adjusts her weight—to press directly against his ribs.

“…Cool,” he exhales. “This is fine.”

12:38 a.m.

He receives a text.

you: hey!! just checking in! is my daughter being good? 🐱apparently you have the night shift💤

Han types back with one thumb beneath the blanket, moving as little as possible.

han: define good

han: i’m not allowed to roll over and she has full custody of the blanket

you: lmaoo she does that 🫣 just don’t breathe too loud

you: i can't lie to you she's not amazing to sleep with when you're a new person... something about unfamiliarity or wtvr

han: great to know💀

2:17 a.m.

Han is awoken to a pressure on his ribs. He slowly opens his eyes to see Princess Murder Volcano sat upright, directly on his body, her tail slapping lightly against stomach.

“Can I help you,” he whispers.

She steps forward, kneels gently… and places one paw on his mouth. Astonished, he slowly reaches for his phone and texts the group chat.

han: her FOOT is on my MOUTH.

felix: do not resist. accept her.

binnie: you must be on the left side. she likes the left side of the bed. your mistake.

seungmin: sleep is a concept. not a right.

channie: stay strong😫😫

hyunjin: do you have any idea how many tiny teeth she has. do not make her use them.

3:03 a.m.

Another message from you causes Han's phone to chime.

you: also she sometimes sleepwalks. so like if she gets up and stares at the wall… do not engage

He reads it and gazes to where Princess Murder Volcano is situated.

She is already sitting at the corner of the bed, staring into the corner of the room, her tail occasionally twitching.

Han tosses the blanket over his own face.

3:49 a.m.

Han dares to shift by one inch. Which subsequently causes the white furball to let out a low growl. A warning, if you will.

He texts the group chat once again.

han: i made eye contact. she knows i thought about moving. i am not safe

felix: if she headbutts you, congrats. that means she’s claimed your soul

seungmin: stop being dramatic. she’s like 4kg

han: 4kg of fury and emotional manipulation. she blinked and i felt shame for existing

5:10 a.m.

You receive a photo from Han. A close-up of his arm, pinned beneath her white little loaf-shaped body. Her head rests between his elbow and ribs. One eye open. Watching.

han: my arm is asleep but she is not. i have not moved in hours

You find yourself cooing at your screen. Your cat is typically not one to cuddle up so comfortably with strangers.

you: omg she likes you 🥹 this is such a good sign!!

Han does not respond. Instead, he stares at the ceiling, a man transformed. Broken. Blessed. He is vibrating with exhaustion, fear, and the slightest sense of pride.

“She picked me,” he says aloud to the dark room. “I was chosen.”

She promptly moves to sneeze on his neck and falls back to sleep.

7:00 a.m.

The sun rises, leaking golden warmth through the once dark room. The serene morning silence is interrupted by the bedroom door creaking open. Chan peeks inside.

“You alive?” he whispers.

Han stares at the ceiling with hollow eyes. “She took my soul and the entire blanket.”

“She does that,” Chan nods.

“I think she forgave me for existing,” Han mutters.

Princess Murder Volcano is curled on Han’s chest, peaceful as can be, one paw flopped over his heart like she owns it.

Maybe she does.

The rest of Day Three began with an unsettling silence. Not the cosy, purring kind that hinted at nap time, but a stretched, suspicious quiet that crept beneath doorways and settled behind bookshelves. No zoomies. No morning murder-screech. No judging loaf formation in the hallway. Just… stillness.

Felix, already on edge after surviving her 8 a.m. biscuit-serving ritual on his spine, narrowed his eyes as he passed the laundry room.

“Where is she?” he muttered, peering around the corner with all the suspicion of a nature documentary narrator about to witness a predator strike.

Then he saw her. Striding slowly across the hall, tail lowered, ears relaxed, but with a strange hesitance in her step—as though she was deep in feline contemplation. She paused just outside the laundry room door, glanced around as if checking for witnesses, and slinked inside. Felix followed at a careful distance, peeking around the doorframe with theatrical stealth.

She sat in the litter box. Still. Unmoving. For twenty long seconds.

And then—without scratching, burying, or doing anything at all—she stood, turned around, and walked away.

Felix's jaw dropped. “She did nothing.”

He pulled out his phone, thumb flying across the screen as he typed into the group chat.

felix: she entered the litter box room.

felix: stood there. did NOTHING.

felix: then LEFT.

felix: with PURPOSE.

The replies came quickly.

jeongin: maybe she just forgot what she was doing

minho: or maybe she's smarter than all of us and doing psychological warfare

But Felix had already descended into veterinary message boards. In the next ten minutes, he had read five conflicting articles, started a pros-and-cons list of emergency vet clinics within driving distance, and built himself a surveillance pillow fort near the hallway with granola bars and a water bottle, determined to document her every move.

She reappeared eventually, strolling past him like he was a coat rack. She leapt up onto the back of the couch, sneezed so hard her whiskers twitched, then dramatically flopped onto her side in a sunny patch like an overworked heiress.

Felix gasped audibly. “Oh my god, she fainted,” he breathed, frantically texting the group.

felix: SHE FELL

felix: I THINK SHE FAINTED

felix: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY

By the time Chan arrived in the room, Felix had both hands in his hair and a cold rag on his own forehead. “She’s sick. She didn’t go. She looked at the box and left.”

Chan blinked. “Felix, she’s literally sunbathing.”

“She sneezed, Chris. That is how it starts. I’ve been researching. She could be hiding a bladder infection. Or worse—emotional constipation.”

Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before unlocking his phone. “Alright. Time to bring in the expert.”

You were just finishing lunch when your phone rang—FaceTime from Chan. You accepted with a smile, instantly greeted by Felix’s frazzled face and the distant sound of your cat dramatically licking her paw.

“Is she dying?” he asked before even greeting you.

You blinked. “What? No? What’s going on?”

Felix spun the camera dramatically, showing your cat flopped halfway off the couch cushion, tail twitching like a lazy metronome. “She went into the litterbox. Did nothing. Came out. Sneezed. Collapsed. Collapsed.”

“She does that,” you laughed at their turmoil around a bite of your meal. “It’s her post-zoomie burnout pose. Very theatrical.”

Chan appeared on screen beside him, eyes squinting. “Would she… fake something like this?”

You nodded immediately. “Yes. Absolutely. One time she limped for a full afternoon because I didn’t give her a bite of my toasted sandwich. The limp vanished the second she saw me grabbing treats.”

Felix’s entire soul left his body in that moment. “She’s too powerful. I believed her.”

“I always do too, it's okay,” you said fondly, watching her slowly roll over and bite the couch cushion for no reason at all.

“She trusts you,” Chan offered Felix quietly after a moment, smiling as he looked down at her now curled into a lazy pretzel. “She doesn’t act like this around all of us.”

“She's showing Felix her weirdest sides,” you confirmed. “That’s like… soulmate trust. I think she's selected her favourite.”

Felix looked into the distance, visibly moved.

Later that afternoon, she returned to the litter box, did her business without fanfare, then strutted out like she had not just sent a grown man into an existential spiral. She leapt into Felix’s lap without warning, turned exactly one circle, and settled.

He did not move for the rest of the night.

“She forgave me,” he whispered, one hand resting on her back like she might disappear if he exhaled too quickly.

Seungmin glanced over, unimpressed. “She just stole your seat.”

“Same thing,” Felix sighed, blissful.

By the time the third and final day of the babysitting debacle had come to a close, all eight of your friends were waiting by the door before you even stepped inside.

The moment your car pulled up, the house shifted into high alert. Shoes half-on, limbs frozen mid-motion, the boys gathered like war survivors at the threshold of sanctuary, a desperate hush falling over the living room.

“She’s here,” Chan muttered, peering through the front blinds. “Everyone act normal.”

Hyunjin tossed the feather toy behind the couch like it was a weapon. Jeongin kicked a half-chewed slipper under the rug. Felix, wild-eyed and exhausted, stood silently clutching a lint roller in one hand and an empty treat bag in the other. Han wordlessly pointed at a scratch across his thigh, his expression haunted.

And then… the front door opened.

You stepped inside with a bright smile and a suitcase sat behind you, immediately greeted by a chorus of overlapping chaos.

“She is not normal,” Seungmin declared, pointing accusingly toward the armchair.

“She bullied Jeongin out of his beanbag,” Minho added flatly.

“She licked a power outlet,” Changbin said, somewhere between awe and concern.

“She gaslit me,” Felix whispered, eyes unfocused.

But before you could react, a blur of fur bolted across the hardwood floors—and suddenly she was there.

Your cat.

Your sweet, precious baby girl, appearing like a cherub descending from above. She meowed softly, nuzzling your shin with gentle affection before curling herself around your ankles like a silk ribbon.

You leaned down immediately, scooping her up into your arms, cooing with all the love in the world. “Hi, my love! Did you miss me? You were a good girl, weren’t you?”

Felix made a noise like he had just been stabbed. “GOOD GIRL?”

“She’s an agent of chaos,” Jeongin protested, watching as your cat blinked up at you with pure, wide-eyed innocence, a slow blink that screamed loyalty and purity and complete, unprovable deceit.

You looked between them all, frowning. “What are you talking about? She’s perfect.”

“She knocked over a plant on purpose,” Minho insisted. “Made eye contact and everything.”

“She scaled the bookshelf,” Chan added, crossing his arms. “Like, the entire thing. And sat on top like she owned it.”

“She stole my hoodie,” Han muttered. “Dragged it under the table. Growled when I tried to get it back.”

“She has mood swings,” Seungmin said, pointing again. “I saw her smack Hyunjin in the face. Twice. For breathing too loud.”

You blinked at them, brow creased in disbelief, while your cat snuggled into your chest in your embrace, already purring loud enough to be heard across the room.

“She’s literally purring,” you said gently. “You guys must’ve imagined it. She’s my baby.”

“She’s playing you,” Hyunjin whispered. “She’s been training for this moment for all three days.”

As if on cue, she looked toward the rest of the group from the safety of your arms, eyes glinting, tongue just slightly poking out in a silent mockery of their pain. Then she nestled her head into your shoulder, curling her fuzzy tail around your wrist with practiced sweetness.

You kissed her head. “Aw. She’s tired. You guys must’ve worn her out from playing so much.”

Eight boys stood in varying stages of psychological collapse. Felix actually sat down.

“She’s gaslighting you in real time,” Chan said quietly.

“I think I have to go lie down,” Jeongin whispered.

“Is this what defeat feels like?” Han asked no one.

You only smiled, oblivious, heading toward the hallway with her still in your arms. “C’mon, baby, let’s go to your room.”

Your cat peeked over your shoulder at the others as you left the room, her face calm, smug, and victorious.

Hyunjin pointed a trembling finger. “Did you see that? She winked. I SWEAR—”

The door shut gently behind you.

Silence hung heavy over those remaining in the room.

Then Felix collapsed backwards onto the couch. “She won.”

By the time night settled in, the house had mostly recovered. Mostly. Chan was nursing a scratch on his bicep with a glass of wine he insisted was “purely medicinal.” Seungmin was researching feline behavioural psychology. Felix had fallen asleep mid-rant while laying on your sofa, with his legs tossed carelessly over your lap.

You sat nestled on the couch beside beneath your shared blanket and a cup of tea, your troublemaking child curled in your lap—technically on Felix's shins—like she had never once wronged a soul. She blinked slowly, innocently, while you gently stroked her back.

The TV screen flashed on.

“Alright,” Han said as he stepped into the room like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. “Enough lies. Enough manipulation. The truth... needs to be witnessed.”

You turned toward him with a raised brow. “What is this?”

“A documentary,” Han said, remote in hand, pride in his stance. “Or rather... a document of war.”

The screen lit up with an opening title:

“Emergency Kitty Babysitter's Club: A House Held Hostage” Directed by Han Jisung. Edited by Han Jisung. Victims: All of Us.

It began with hidden cam footage—timestamped clips from every chaos moment of the week. Your cat skidding across the hardwood at 3 a.m. like a possessed banshee. Knocking over a cup of coffee with surgical precision while Minho gasped in the background. Standing on the kitchen counter, face inside the butter dish, as Felix whispered, “Not again…” from behind the camera.

Cue dramatic music. Zoom-ins. Slow-motion replays. Commentary snippets from the boys layered over the clips like it was some kind of crime series.

“She stared at me and shoved my AirPods off the table,” Chan’s voice narrated solemnly as the clip played. “She knew.”

“She stole a sausage right off my fork,” Jeongin said during a cutaway interview, looking dead inside.

It was ridiculous. It was over-the-top.

It was brilliant.

And yet, as the footage continued to play, you gently scratched behind her ears. “Princess... this isn’t you, is it?”

She yawned, long and slow, and nestled deeper into your lap—unbothered. Unmoved.

“She is literally in the footage,” Hyunjin said, exasperated. “She bit me in 4K.”

“She’s misunderstood,” you murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Han hit pause and turned to you, devastated. “You’re choosing her over us.”

“She’s soft,” you said, petting her side. “And pink. And perfect.”

"Pink doesn't even make sense!"

“She screamed at the mailman like he owed her money,” Changbin snapped.

But you just smiled down at her. “My little angel.”

The credits rolled. The final clip played without sound: your cat perched regally atop the fridge while Felix cried in the corner, holding a can of tuna she had rejected minutes earlier.

A masterpiece. A warning. A call for justice.

And completely ineffective.

Because by the time the lights came back on, you were already dozing off on the couch, her purring against your chest, the embodiment of peace and domestic bliss.

She opened one eye, glared at Han, and flicked her tail once like a queen dismissing her critics.

The boys would never recover.

But you? You were exactly where you belonged.

inspired by my beautiful sweet innocent daughter dior

everyone say hello

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[pannman]

What's on your mind

Alastor x telepathic reader

Tw: dark thoughts, mentions of violence, depressed thoughts, angst, overstimulation

You knew it was a bit risky to show up to a new place hoping for salvation. But in Hell you were given a secret gift... it was more like a curse. You heard people's thoughts. Whether you wanted to or not. And being surrounded by all the worst kinds of people and hearing the horrible and nasty things that plagued their minds had turned you antisocial. You rarely exited your apartment.

The plants were your only friends. But one eviction notice from your pervy landlord and you were out on the streets again. He had tripled your rent almost overnight after you rejected him. You trailed through the busy street hearing all the the unholy thoughts of others and you began to get overstimulated. The voices of a thousand sinners filled your head with their dark thoughts and you covered your ears in instinct even though you knew it would do no good

*I want to kill that bastard with his own car*

*I'll slip something skimpy on and while he's cock drunk I'll steal his wallet and then slice his throat*

*I hate myself. I cannot keep doing this. I'm a monster. I deserve to be here. I need to find some drugs. I can't deal with this sober. Fuck my life! I wish death was really the end*

*Steal. Steal. Steal. I want that. I need that! I'll just wait until that guy leaves his store and I'll break the window and take it. I'll stab anyone who gets in my way. I must have it! Steal! STEAL!*

Suddenly you were brought out of your emotional spiral by the tv in the window next to you. "And there you have it. The new and improved Hazbin Hotel is now officially open for business! The princess of hell is now again accepting patrons for her little pet project she calls redemption. I don't know about any of you. But I think she's wasting her fucking time. But she did save hell and her precious daddy gave us a lot of money so here you go. Check out the Hazbin Hotel and check in to start your journey to the gates of Heaven today! Is that good enough? What do you mean the cameras are still on?"

Even though you weren't 100% sure you believed it was possible, the idea of getting out of hell was far too tempting. And you needed somewhere to stay anyway. You rang the doorbell expecting the princess of hell to answer only to see the door opened by a tall well dressed but creepy looking gentleman. You recognized him quickly. He was an overlord named Alastor or also known as the Radio Demon. You didn't know he was going to be there but you tried to pretend like you weren't in shock

"Hello, my name is y/n. I'm here to-" suddenly Alastor swept you away and guided you inside with a hand on your lower back. "Of course my dear! I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you quite a pleasure! Do come in" His thoughts peirced into your brain with a sharp pain and a sound of static

*yet another fool seeking redemption. Or perhaps a sinner with some ulterior motive. I'm sure they won't last long. But it'll be such fun playing with them*

You were unsettled by his thoughts and proceeded to grow more uncomfortable with his touch. You were beginning to change your mind when the hostess of the hotel, the princess herself finally showed. "Oh my gosh! Are you here to join the hotel?" She looked so excited that she looked as if she'd explode any minute

*I hope Alastor doesn't scare this one away as well. He can be so intimidating. I just wanna help them but they never stick around.*

Realizing the princess had genuine intentions unlike anyone you've encountered here, you felt more inclined to stay. The tension in your shoulders began to relax. "Yeah, I'd like to give it a try at least" You answered. "That's great! I'm Charlie! Of course you've met Alastor..."

Once again you were mentally attacked by Alastors thoughts for some reason. You've never felt actual pain from your telepathy before

*Another sucker here to try and fail like the others. This will be fun to watch*

Charlie seemed to notice your distress. "Are you ok?" She asked. You rubbed your temples and tried to drown out the pain. "Yeah, I... I just get headaches sometimes. It's nothing to worry about" you lied.

Charlie introduced you to the rest of the hotel who seemed much less enthusiastic about your arrival. It was very clear they weren't too confident in you sticking around. Their thoughts gave away their true situation. People must have been coming and going ever since they reopened. But still, it was a place to stay. For free. And at least one nice person was there. You liked Charlie. It was a breath of fresh air to hear thoughts that 1. Weren't horrible and 2. Matched the energy and vibe of the person. She was kind and real. That made you believe it couldn't be all bad

But then Alastor of all people offered to show you to your room. You glanced a look of worry at Charlie who was completely distracted and oblivious while talking away to her girlfriend about how excited she was about a new sinner entering the hotel

He chatted away with you the entire way. "So tell me, what makes you so interested in this place? I am rather curious"

*What are their true motivations?*

You responded. "I lost my apartment and I was at a low place. I saw an advertisement on TV and figured what else have I got to loose" you weren't exactly lying. Just leaving out the fact that you can read minds or more that they read themselves to you without your consent. "Oh trust me you still have plenty. You've got your soul and your life. Those things have at least SOME value. Either way, there is no place quite as beautiful and desperate as rock bottom. Yes?"

*I wonder if they can get any lower?*

You were beginning to become better at hiding the migraines Alastor's thoughts were giving you but you were growing exhausted from fighting it. It was like being around him drained you. You grew more tired by the minute. "Yeah I guess so..."

"You must've had a long day. I imagine it's been overwhelming for you. But do not worry. Our beds are quite comfy" he reassured you.

*Comfier than a coffin of course*

You laughed...

"What is so funny?" He asked tilting his head in curiosity as the two of you stopped at your room door. "Uhh. Nothing I just remembered something funny" you lied. "Oh do tell!" He replied. Shit...

"it was really dumb you wouldn't like it" you tried to lie your way out of this. "Oh and you think you know me so well already?" He responded

*I don't know what's up with this sinner but they are definitely hiding something*

Oh no... quick think of something funny. "So I saw this... guy and he... fell out of a window... into... a coffin! And... he fell asleep in it... I don't know why, I just thought it was funny" You felt your heart racing in you chest. Alastor stared at you with scrutiny before smiling wide. "You're right that is quite dumb. But I suppose everyone's humor is different. Anyway, here is your room. Please let me know if there's any way I could make your stay more comfortable." He bought it?

"Yeah... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you" you began to close the door. "One more thing..." He said as you stopped. "Yes?" His thoughts peirced your mind louder than ever before as if he was speaking to you on purpose. The static now making his voice sound straight up demonic. You clutched your head barely being able to withstand the pain

*How long have you been able to read my mind?*

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the lunch break

buttercup, chapter thirteen

a/n: to quote scarlet envy, simply to get the pot boiling for how this chapter ends: is it me? am I the drama? I don’t think I’m the drama… maybe I am... am I the villain? I don’t think I’m the villain ;)

summary: “…how long did you say it’d be till the others get back?”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, semi-public sex, office sex, matt being a bit of a perv but we love that about him, kissing, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, masturbation, handjob, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms, pov shift, ends on a cliffhanger (will not clarify any further or it'll spoil the drama hehe)

word count: 2374

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

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“Hello!” you sang as you swung the door to Nelson and Murdock closed behind you, “I come bearing lunch,” you leaned the loosely closed and dripping umbrella up against the nearby wall before you cast your glance around the office. Shifting the bag of sandwiches from the bakery into your other hand, you then spotted Matt behind his desk and noticed how he was the only one currently there.

“Oh,” he swiftly rose from his seat at the sound of your arrival and beamed, “you’re a goddess, thank you.”

“Thought perhaps you guys didn’t wanna venture out into this weather,” your wet hair still dribbled gently as you entered his office, “luckily I like the rain, don’t mind a walk in it,” you smiled as you reached his desk before you then leaned over it to plant a swift peck upon Matthew’s cheek, “where are Fog and Karen?”

“Down at the precinct, talking to a client who got arrested this morning,” his touch briefly floated up to brush against your elbow, “but they should be back soon.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded as you planted the bag down upon his desk, next to a stack of files, “I guess that means you get first dibs on what sandwich you want,” before you opened it up and glanced inside, “let’s see, I brought–”

But since Matt could already smell the choices you’d brought with you, he instead cut you off and said, “oh, the avocado one, for sure.”

“I will never get used to you doing that…” you laughed softly before plucking the wrapped up sandwich he wanted out of the bag and placing down upon the stack of files alongside a few napkins, “wait, can you like–, I mean, you probably can, but if you’re in your apartment, and I’m in mine, can you then, for example, smell whatever I’m cooking?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled gently as he picked up the bundle, a smirk stretching across his lips, “that’s not the only thing I can smell…”

Sucking in a breath as your eyes fluttered up to glance at him, “right…” a faint giggle then bubbled in your throat as heat rose in your cheeks.

“You know,” he then sat down his lunch again, “it was incredibly hard to walk out the door this morning and go to work instead of just breaking down your door to give you a hand,” he uttered in a low timbre as he slowly leaned a tad closer.

Your face then promptly fell as he made you recall the way you’d made yourself cream around your own fingers before you’d mustered the courage to roll out of bed, “y-you–… oh my god… you could–”

“Smell you? Hear you?” he tilted even closer to where you stood, “yeah,” the gap between you steadily shrank, “which is extremely distracting, to say the least.”

“Wait,” you blinked, “so does that mean that every time I’ve touched myself while you’ve been right next door, you’ve known?”

Tilting his head slightly, it took him a second to murmur, “I–… plead the fifth…” although the smirk on his lips continued to beam back at you.

“Oh my god!” you gasped as the corners of your lips slowly twisted upwards, “every single time?”

“Well…” he struggled to decipher how transparent he ought to be.

“Oh my god, Matthew…” you uttered softly as you now noticed the throbbing between your thighs, “I don’t think I’ve ever been as jealous about your funky senses as I am right now,” you murmured, making him laugh before you stole a brief kiss, “…how long did you say it’d be till the others get back?”

“Uh…” a breathless chuckle escaped him and caressed your flaming cheeks as he caught onto what you were saying, “hopefully long enough,” he prayed before he then scooped you with him as he sank back in his chair, planting you in his lap as he tilted your features back down for your lips to collide with his own.

Making out, your hips shamelessly grinded down against his rapidly growing hardness, quenching some of the thirst for what you longed for him to give you. Although, your needy rocking didn’t continue much longer as Matt soon grabbed a hold of your bottom and scooped you up so high that you landed on the messy desk before him.

“Off, off, off,” he muttered through his grin as he ripped both your boots and pants off, catching your underwear as well, and tossing them all to the floor before he seized your thighs, scooted you dangerously close to the edge, and dove in like a man starved. And as he ate you out, your eyes rolling in your skull as he messily made out with your cunt, a few words left his lips and vibrated against your puffy clit, “what were you thinking about?”

Breathlessly, you blinked down at him as his tongue parted your petals, “huh?”

Letting go of your little pearl with a lewd pop, he uttered, “this morning, when you made yourself cum. What were you thinking about to draw out all those pretty noises you made?”

“I–, well,” a gasp then expanded your lungs as you felt him fill you up with two of his fingers, “you already know everything else, so don’t you know that as well?”

“I can’t read your mind, sweetheart, as fun as that’d be,” his chuckle tickled your core and caused you to squirm against his lips.

“Well, if you must know,” your chest heaved, “it was you. I was thinking about you,” your gaze fluttered down to his head, stubborn between your trembling thighs.

“Oh, come on, you gotta give me more than that,” he purred between teasing licks, “what were you imagining me doing?”

“It was nothing special, really,” you chuckled lightly before your teeth caught your bottom lip, “I was just thinking back to last weekend,” your legs trembled on either side of his face as he pushed you closer to the edge, “when you came over for dinner,” each zealous caress his tongue lapped against you, and the silky rocks his digits offered you, shoved you closer and closer to that overwhelming high, “and then we almost burned the food because you sank down onto your knees and dis–, dis–…”

“I, what?” he smirked as he tilted away and let his free hand take over his talented mouth’s job, feverously rubbing your clit, “what did I do, huh?”

And as you then tumbled over the edge, it wasn’t till you were panting afterwards that the remainder of your sentence seeped through your moans, “distracted me.”

“Oh right, I do have a bad habit of doing that, don’t I?” he chuckled as his fingers withdrew from your dripping pussy, before he then tilted back in to press a peck upon your overly sensitive clit, your entire frame jumping at the jolt as his lips brushed against your puffy pearl, “see? Here I am, doing it again. Haven’t learned my lesson one bit.”

Balancing your feet on his chair, on either side of his hips, you bent down to shut him up with a kiss.

Although, it wasn’t till the peck faded that you noticed how at some point while he had been making out with your cunt, he’d freed his cock and begun to touch himself to the taste of you.

Reaching down, you enveloped your fingers around his girth, and a low groan flowed from his lungs and tickled your heated cheeks.

“Just for the record,” your face stayed close to his own as you began to stroke his throbbing length, his touch swiftly sweeping up to squeeze your tits through your shirt, “I may not be the best person if you’re trying to receive discipline for your actions, since I happily condone the majority of your so-called bad habits. Just as long as they don’t burn any of my food.”

One of his palms floated up to your jaw before his thumb curved towards your lips, brushing against them before they parted for him, welcoming his digits inside to feel your silky tongue, “right, of course, those priorities make total sense,” he teased, making you giggle around his finger, “as long as dinner’s safe, god forbid anything happens to that.”

“Oh, shut up, you,” you laughed before pushing yourself off of the table and sliding down onto your knees, under the desk and between his thick thighs.

Tracing one of the prominent veins that decorated his cock, your tongue lapped up the side of him before you took him into your mouth.

And as your head began to bob, Matthew’s fingers floated down to gently cup the sides of your face and shadowed your movements as your hot mouth made his moans echo throughout the small office.

One of your hands even slipped down between your own legs to quell the buzzing that had swiftly picked back up.

Although, when your fingers had rubbed your clit raw and as the moan you let out at your high muffled against his dick in your mouth, he swiftly twitching against your tongue.

But as you swallowed his hot load and grinned up at him in bliss, the sound of the front door to the office suddenly ripping open caused you to bump your head against the underside of the table as you scurried to get up and scramble for your clothes.

And as you clumsily pulled your pants back on, you recognised the voices of his colleagues before you then hissed, “seriously, Matt? Did you not hear that they were literally right around the corner? What if they had been just two seconds faster? You should have stopped me as soon as you knew instead of prioritising getting your fucking rocks off!” you grumbled in a hushed tone, though your words weren’t as serious as your half-hearted tone made it seem, since you frankly couldn’t blame him in the slightest.

As you cleaned the bakery’s kitchen, scrubbing and wiping all of the surfaces, a soft hum vibrated in your throat as you purred along with the song that emanated from the small Bluetooth speaker that always rested on the windowsill. The alleyway on the other side of the glass had grown dim as you were now the only one left in the establishment.

A rustle then suddenly found your ears, cutting through the music from somewhere behind you. Although, as you twisted around to investigate, there was nothing to see.

The noise even repeated once again soon there after, however as you this time too couldn’t spot the source, you instead chalked it up to either perhaps being just a sound from the busy city right outside that had seeped into the bakery, or even just your imagination getting the better of your sleepy senses.

But as you then scrubbed a handful of utensils clean, elbow deep in soapy water as your thoughts longingly drifted to your neighbour’s soft bed and his warm arms you so yearned to curl into as soon as you let yourself in to his abode, from out of nowhere, a palm then suddenly clambered down over your mouth and muffled the scream that swiftly crawled its way out of your lungs.

Acting quickly, as fear promptly began to prickle your periphery, you jabbed your elbow back into the stomach of the stranger looming behind you, thrusting it hard enough to send the man stumbling back a step and release you just enough to grant you the chance to escape.

Spinning around, your wide eyes finally landed upon two unrecognisable figures, both in dark suits and slicked-back hair, taking up the space in the kitchen and blocking off every one of the exits, cornering you in.

But then, you slipped one of your dripping hands back into the soapy sink behind you and grabbed the first thing your fingertips grazed. Bubbles accompanied the water that splashed in an arc as you then swung the metal ladle against the closest one’s head.

The desperate attempt, however, only managed to stun the guy for but a moment, before his partner then swooped in as you tried to slip past, snatching you up and covering your mouth back up as you continued to shout.

And though you tried with all of your might as the both of them got their hands on you, kicking and punching to get out of their overpowering hold, you just couldn’t wiggle free.

Tears streamed down your face as they swiftly kicked the back door open and tossed you into a dark van that was parked in the shadows of the alleyway right outside.

Matt’s POV

“Hello?”

“Matthew? Hey, it’s Howard, Y/n’s uncle,” Matt heard emanate from his phone, “sorry to call you like this, but we just wanted to check and see if Y/n by chance is with you?”

“Oh, uhm, no, she’s not,” he uttered with a furrowed brow as his heartbeat began to pick up, “is everything alright?”

“I think so, she’s just not picking up her phone, and when we arrived at the bakery this morning, it was a complete mess, nothing was pack away in the fridge, things weren’t cleaned,” Howard uttered, “so we just assumed that maybe you had stopped by and–, you know…”

While the baker’s voice was buzzing through the phone, Matt’s feet shifted to swiftly exit his apartment and enter your own, even though he could already hear through the walls that you weren’t in there.

“Uhm…” Matthew’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly as he shut his own door behind him once again, “…you know what, I’ll call you back, alright? Leave it to me, I’ll find her, I promise.”

As he then hung up the phone, his feet stayed rooted a moment as he sucked in a breath and felt as if the walls might collapse down around him. But after merely a second had passed, his frame then snapped into action, marching across his apartment as his fingers began to tear at the buttons of his shirt before he ripped open the closet beneath the staircase that led up towards the roof, and yanked out the trunk that hid inside.

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ryemiffie]

I don't think a lot of people realise that Jason would not have just forgiven Bruce, moved on, and been happy to rejoin the family if Batman had killed the Joker during the whole Red Hood monologue thing.

Because then the problem wouldn't be "Why didn't you avenge me?" It would become "Why did I have to ask you to?" There would have still been so many problems they would've had to work through, and I don't think Jason's anger and resentment would've just melted away if Bruce had killed Joker then. It wouldn't have mattered, Jason wanted to be avenged by the loving dad he thought he had, he didn't want to have to beg to feel cared about.

It wasn't just about the action of killing Joker, it's what killing Joker would have meant. If Batman had killed Joker after Jason's death, it would have meant something, it would have meant "you took my son from me and that's a pain I'll die with, so it's a pain you'll die with too." It would have meant he couldn't handle the idea of any other fathers losing their son to such a man, any other parent, any other friend, any other colleague, any other person suffering such a fate. But he didn't do it then. If he killed Joker after Jason had to yell that Joker's death is what he wanted, it wouldn't have met the same thing. The meaning would become, "You're dying today to satiate the anger of the Red Hood, you're death is a bargaining chip, you're death is just to comfort a dead man."

Do I believe Jason would have a moment of relief if Batman had killed Joker in that moment? Yes, but I don't think the relief would be because he believes that Bruce did this because he loves him, and I don't think the relief would last. Not long enough.

After Batman kills Joker in that moment, a smile would spread across Jason's face, a satisfaction, but then that satisfaction would leave him and so would his smile, it would all melt away and he'd be once again stuck with his anger, but now he wouldn't know what to do to fix it, he'd be scared, terrified that nothing could fix him, that nothing could fix the anger and pain of a dead boy, even revenge, even a father's supposed love. He'd cry, the tears would come slow at first, he doesn't know why they're there at first, he doesn't even feel them in the beginning, he thinks perhaps they are happy tears. But then Bruce says his name, not Batman, Bruce, "Jason?" He says, and he sounds scared too, like he doesn't know what to do, not just with Jason but with himself.

Jason realises what he's made his father do, and now he realises it doesn't matter, he feels no different, he doesn't feel loved and cared for, he still feels like a corpse, when Joker's heart stopped Jason's didn't resume. And Jason didn't know why. He had read so many fairytales, when he was young he'd sit in the library for hours devouring books, and when he was in the league he read so much to Damian. All those fairytales, they all said the same thing, to break the curse, to wake the forgotten love, right the wrong, put things how they were meant to be. Why didn't that work? The wrong had been righted, the Joker was dead by the Batman's hand at his son's order, why didn't he feel better than? Because this wasn't a fairytale, this was gotham, this was the curse of loving a man like Batman, he'll never love you back, and if he does? It'll always be too late.

Jason cries, it's ugly, it's painful, it's neverending. And Batman hugs him, he clings to his son's body, holds him as close as possible in the hope it'll save the both of them from the darkness that spills from their souls, but Bruce knows it won't, and Jason now does too. Nothing could fix Jason, nothing could comfort him, nothing could stop the violent anger that burned within him, and now he had condemned his father to the same fate. As he sobbed he yelled, "Why didn't you kill him all those years ago?! Why did I have to claw my way out of my own grave to get you to care?! Why did I have to beg you to end the pain?!" He was mad, so mad, and it didn't go away when the Joker died, it just went deeper, rooted itself further into him, tore its way through his soul till the thing was rotten in pieces with grief. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, this should have fixed things, this should have made things better, but it didn't, it wasn't fair. Quietly, no longer yelling, he whispers into his father's impenetrable suit of armour, "Why does it still hurt?" There's no answer, he doesn't expect one.

Soon he will break out of Bruce's hold, he will run and never look back, he will hide and he will cry for days, he will pray Bruce doesn't come looking, because if he has to see his father now, after what's happened, he may just die again.

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter nine - Poker face

Pairing: pre poly! Chain x reader, Wind & reader

Rating: T

Summary: When plans are interrupted you find yourself with some skulltulas. Thankfully you reunite with the chain, unfortunately the reunion dosen’t last as long as you want.

(Aka: Spooky meets the chain and Warriors wouldn't let me give him a gentle realization... also Sky is have a Bad time at the end (off screen but you'll see why)

Warnings: Spiders, cursing, Canon typical violence, minor injury, water

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

Previous Masterlist Next

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Dark sits in the shadows with his darling lamb, watching excitedly as Onyx's plan takes effect. He watches wave after wave of increasingly difficult monsters swarm the damnable heroes.

"What do you think, my dearest viper?" Onyx asks as they lean their head onto his shoulder.

Dark gives a vicious grin that's far more like a shark than a hylian. "Your cruelty is unmatched."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Onyx purrs in a voice like honey covered blades.

Dark chuckles, pressing a kiss to their forehead.

There's the sound of a scream from a monster and a few curses.

"Perhaps a few more lynels?" Onyx muses to themselves.

"Why not draw it out?" Dark suggests.

"Oh, I am."

There's a ripple of light magic that reeks of Hylia. A shift in the world as a portal opens.

Dark growls lowly, "I sent them away!"

Onyx frowns, looking up at him. "What?"

"The Golden Bitch herself sent (Y/n) here."

"No," Onyx hisses.

"Would I lie to you?"

Onyx mutters darkly and pulls on their magic to call off the other waves. Of course Hylia is able ruin everything. She's very good at it.

Dark is quick to pull at his own magic to try to get the more dangerous monsters away for the moment.

There's urgency neither wants to examine. They don't have time for it anyway.

Stupid Hylia, always ruining their fun.

"Demise curse it," Onyx sneers.

There's an urgency to it that neither wants to examine. It's not any personalized attachment it's just buissness.

The monsters that were practically queuing up are sent to other times without a thought.

"I really hate geozards," Wind groans from his fight.

Onyx snickers, "Good."

Dark sighs, "If only this wasn't interrupted."

"Come on, we should get out of here before they finish these off," Onyx sighs.

They both stand, and Dark snags his darling lamb's hand with a grin.

Onyx lets him drag them away, running after him as they keep their fingers lacing together. They aren't looking to be separated again.

"You got those skulltulas, right?" Onyx asks.

"Maybe!" Dark calls as he sinks them through the shadows and into a place far enough away to not see the heroes.

He's had enough of their faces.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Onyx says, mostly to assure themselves.

-------

You don't sleep well the night after you go through the portal alone. Spooky is a reassurance, but making camp by yourself in a strange place is... not your favorite.

Morning comes to chase away the dreams of a past you aren't ready to fully delve into yet. Phantom touches almost linger, but they are easy to brush aside.

Knowing for sure that you are the Hero's Soulmate is strange. Soulmates are such a strange concept, at least to you.

How can you be that lucky? To have a perfect match every lifetime?

Knowing you've lived multiple lives in this world is even stranger.

It explains a lot, though.

Is the fact that you're both Link's soulmate and someone who's lived a dozen or more lives in Hyrule account for you being so heavily drawn to the Legend of Zelda?

Does it make your fascination forgivable?

You can't say.

You aren't sure it matters...

But now that you accept the truth, you are remembering more and more. To the point you are ready to go shake your past lives because who is that far gone on some man? (You are, apparently.)

Breakfast isn't anything fancy, just a little bit of the rations you got from older Wind. It's enough to keep you going though, and that is always a plus.

("Breakfast is important, Sunshine!" An older teen with sandy hair defends as he presses your favorite meal into your hands because he knows you've been so busy you are forgetting to eat sometimes.)

After you eat, you start walking again, following Spooky.

Spooky seems to have a destination in mind, moving around confidently.

Every once in a while, they pounce on a leaf or make a low chitter sound at a bird they can't reach.

It's adorable in the 'kitty!' sense.

(Who knew ambush predators could be so sweet? Oh, that's right, every cat person ever.)

Walking alone where you have no idea where you are and the knowledge monsters could be anywhere is awful. You think you prefer the tension that the boys have going on. At least they also provide security and extra swords.

There's a deep empathy for each of your ... the ... your boys. (They are your boys, though, aren't they?)

Each of them have been alone like this, especially Wild, Sky, and Hyrule.

Spooky rubs against you as if sensing that you need to come out of your mind to focus on your surroundings.

It's probably a mile or two in that you hear hissing and clicking.

Oh shit.

That can't be a skulltula... right?

You turn to the right and catch sight of a good five skulltulas. Two in the trees and one on the ground.

Great.

You know what's worse than one giant evil spider?

Five.

Five giant evil spiders are worse.

These are so much more terrifying in person.

"Well... fuck," You groan.

Is running an option?

You hesitate too long.

The spiders are already almost to you.

Fuck.

("Skulltulas are the worst," an older teen bemoans to you as you comb your fingers through his hair. "Getting them off walls is still in my nightmares.")

How are you even supposed to flip these things to get to their weak spot?

You step back a little to create some more space and grab your sword.

Spooky growls low and long, tail swishing as they stand at your side.

The fight is a blur. Half instinct and half clumsy inexperience leads to what is probably a weird show.

Dodge.

Kick.

Strike.

Deflect.

Pain laces through your leg at a branch ripping into the skin.

Blood.

Spooky flips a skulltula with a growl.

You plunge your sword into the beasts weak spot.

It dissapears in a shrieking hiss and puff of dark magic.

"Good kitty!" You call.

The fight goes on like this.

You keep the attention, dodging and sometimes stumbling, while Spooky waits to ambush and flip them over.

You finish off the last skulltula with a victorious cry.

As soon as you finish the last spider off, you look to Spooky.

"Good kitty!" You declare again.

Spooky sits down and starts panther bath time.

Which is probably a good plan.

You put your sword and shield back where they go before taking stock of your own injuries.

There's the cut on your shin, shallow but painful and bleeding.

There's quite a few bruises.

Wincing, you press your fingers to a sore spot on your bicep. The bruise there isn't any fun but you'll live.

You could use potion from Legend, but you don't want to waste it on something like this. There's something in your mind that says you need to save it for something worse.

("If we're ever separated and you're low on supplies, you should try to conserve potions and faries, firefly," a man says gently as he wraps you in his arms. "I hate to say it, but still...")

These half memories are driving you up a wall, and they don't even have a license to drive. It feels like there should be commercials for a class action lawsuit.

You sigh, reaching into your pack for your water and some bandages.

You'll have to clean it better later, but for now, clean water to rinse and sterile bandages is better than leaving it open to the elements.

You rinse the cut and wrap bandages around it. You tie off the bandages before putting everything else away.

By the time you're ready to move more, Spooky is sniffing the air. They sniff the air the way that cats do when they smell something they want.

Oh?

Spooky starts walking into the trees before they stop and look back to you.

Well, who are you to ignore them?

You follow them into the trees.

Spooky leads you through the forest with insistent looks and lashing tail. They seem antsy about moving to wherever they are leading you, and after the ambush of skulltulas, you are eager to follow.

Stupid spiders.

"Where are you bringing me?" You ask as you duck under a branch.

Spooky stops, tossing you a look as their tail lashes a little faster.

"Oh, come on, Spooky, I'm exhausted. I hate those stupid spiders."

Spooky lets out a crooning sound and levels you a look.

You laugh, reaching the panther and scratching behind Spooky's ear. "Thank you for saving me, pumpkin."

Spooky rubs up into your palm before they stand and start walking again.

They walk a little slower this time, leading you until you are just before a clearing and you can hear voices.

Oh...

Did Spooky just bring you back to the boys?

Bad kitty!

(You don't mean that Spooky is an angel.)

Well, if this is how things are going to be... at least you won't be the only one with a sword now.

(And if you are honest... it's sort of a nice idea to stay with your boys and get to know them again.)

Spooky sits in the treeline, waiting for you.

You huff, breaking through the trees, "Really? This is what you wanted me to see?"

The entire chain has stopped what they're doing to look over.

Several go still.

At least six pairs of eyes go wide.

Wind gasps, calling your name excitedly.

You wave, "Hey, sailor."

Epona neighs happily before trotting away from where Twilight is brushing her and over to you.

Spooky sits just behind the treeline, watching.

You gasp, hugging Epona happily when she reaches you. "Sweetheart!"

Epona huffs affectionately, bumping her muzzle along your shoulder.

You happily fish out an apple to pass to the mare. You hear the youngest snicker at the sight.

"What are you doing here?" Wind asks as he joins you and Epona. "What happened to your leg?"

"Spooky lead me here after some skulltulas got the drop on us." You wave off, stepping to the side but still petting Epona.

You don't want to come off as weak or childish... and really... there are worse monsters.

("Don't downplay your feelings just because others might have it worse. Your experiences matter, my love," a man with a green headband and mossy eyes says as he presses a kiss to your cheek.)

"Skulltulas?" Legend asks tightly. "Are you okay?"

"Spooky?" Wind asks.

"Yes, I'm fine - oh!" You glance around realizing that Spooky hasn't come out. Well, now, that is just rude. You call out, "Spooky, here kitty kitty kitty!"

"A cat?" Twilight perks up.

Wild and Hyrule also seem curious.

Spooky stalks out and runs themselves to you on the side opposite of Epona before going to sniff Wind.

"That is not a cat!" Legend tenses immediately, eyes wide.

"Get that - thing 'way from Epona!" Twilight hisses, rushing towards his horse.

"Wind get back here." Warriors says sharply.

Wind laughs, letting Spooky sniff him. The boy seems fairly unbothered and almost seems to feel a rush of delight.

Twilight grabs Epona's reigns and tries to tug the mare away only to be met with an unwilling to move horse.

"Hey now, Spooky is a good kitty." You say, reaching out to pet the panther.

"That's not a cat!" Twilight manages.

Several others make sounds of agreement.

Time looks like he's silently praying.

Sky looks ready to laugh or cry.

Four is not looking at you, fists clenching so tightly his knuckles are white.

Legend still hasn't let his muscles relax.

Spooky rubs along Wind happily before circling around to sniff Epona.

Twilight gets between Spooky and Epona, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Hey! You hurt my cat, and I have to break your legs." You say sharply, genral animal love over riding any dislike for conflict you may have.

"If yer- pet hurts Epona-" Twilight grits out.

"Spooky won't."

"That thing -"

Spooky slips by Twilight and weaves between Epona's legs, purring as they rub up on the mare.

"What in blazes?" Twilight gapes.

"Good kitty!" You clap.

Spooky weaves around to you again, sitting at your side. Their tail lashes as if daring the chain to comment further.

"Where'd you find Spooky?" Wind asks with bright eyes.

"Spooky found me, walked right up to me in town while I was sitting outside. They like napping on me."

"D'ya have some sorta magic over animals?" Twilight wonders

"No?"

"Let me get this straight," Sky says slowly, his voice tight as he walks over. "Some stray panther came up to you in the middle of a town, and you- let it nap on you now?"

The wood carver looks like you could push him over by blowing on him.

"Yes. You can't move a sleeping cat," you say as if this is obvious.

Really thought that's just one of the rules of being a cat lover.

"That is a panther!" Legend calls with a straining voice.

"Big cat." You shrug.

"Predator!" Warriors groans.

"Hylia, help us," Four manages weakly.

You wave them off. "Spooky is a good kitty. They helped me kill giant evil spiders."

Spooky preens as if they understand that they're being praised.

"You're my hero." Wind informs you breathlessly.

"What? Why?"

"I want a pet panther."

"I think I'm Spooky's pet." You laugh.

Spooky just starts purring.

Wind laughs, too.

"Wind no one is getting you a panther," Warriors grits out lowly.

Wild is creeping over now, staring at Spooky with bright eyes.

Ah, yes, champion of the wilds... of course, he wants to meet the big cat.

He's always so good with animals.

("That is a bear - why are you trying to register a bear at my stable?" A man demands as someone with a bow on their back grins down at him.)

Spooky looks to Wild and yawns.

"We are not keeping a panther," Time says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

You frown immediately, "Why not? Spooky's a good kitty."

"We don't keep wild animals as pets," Time sighs.

"He's right," Twilight agrees immediately.

Warriors crosses his arms, "Panthers are dangerous."

"You guys keep Wolfie," You protest on instinct despite knowing the wolf in question is really just Twilight.

It's maybe a little underhanded, but you really want to keep Spooky!

Also, it's probably easier for everyone if you aren't separated since Spooky dosen’t like that.

Stretching the truth still feels a little weird...

You've committed, though.

"That's different," Twilight defends quickly.

To be fair to him, it is different.

"Spooky is friendly! They kill monsters, they hunt their own food, they're a good gaurd cat," You reason.

Warriors just stares at you with the most deadpan look to date. "That is a wild animal."

"Preadators are horrible pets," Legend grits out.

"Still think I might be Spooky's pet," you shrug.

Hyrule bites his lip before he mutters something to himself. Looking somewhere between amusement and disappointment.

"Not better," Four manages finally.

Wind rolls his eyes, "Spooky seems fun!"

"We can't just keep a panther," Four says as he stares at the panther in question.

"Counter point," Hyrule pipes up, "How are you going to get rid of a panther that's adopted someone?"

The others all fall silent, trying to take this question in. It's a good question.

How do you separate a panther from their person?

Wild manages to kneel by Spooky and begins petting them. A soft, wondrous smile spreads on his face.

You smile softly, "See? Spooky's sweet! Isn't that right, pumpkin?"

Spooky gives a low rumble.

"Farore on a stick," Legend groans, earning himself several dirty looks.

"Spooky's a good kitty. They helped me kill skulltulas! And you saw that they like Epona!" You coax, repeating several earlier points.

Spooky is purring now, happy to lean into Wild's hands.

Twilight just stares at you with a face that a mix between resignment, fondness, grief, and exhaustion.

"If this goes poorly we get rid of Spooky," Time sighs.

Sky, Legend, and Four look distinctly sea sick.

Warriors looks like he might scream.

"Yes!" Wind beams.

You smile at the kid, trying to ignore the fact that you know his future. That's a weird thought.

At least you know he lives through this.

"Yer sure Spooky is friendly?" Twilight asks, something weighty in the words.

"To us? Absolutely!" You say firmly.

Twilight frowns but he steps closer.

He steps close enough to hold a hand out to Spooky.

Oh!

Oh yeah!

Twilight is a cat person.

("The barn cat had kittens today 'n they're cuter than a bug in a rug, darlin'!" A man grins at you as he takes your hand, alreadytuggingyou towards the barn.)

Spooky sniffs the hand and then nudges it with their nose.

Twilight steps closer again and starts petting their face gin slow and cautious movement.

A smile starts to creep up on his face. Something deep in your soul soothes at the image. He has a nice smile.

(You miss it.)

You glance around the others while Twilight, Wild, and Wind love on Spooky.

Warriors and Time stand together now, discussing something in tight tones.

Legend and Hyrule sit together and keep eyeing Spooky. Hyrule seems curious, but Legend looks ready to run.

Sky and Four are also eying Spooky, but Sky seems curious in addition to weary.

You frown.

Legend looks ready to absolutely bolt, and Four doesn't look much better.

Oh.

Right.

Minish and rabbits are technically prey.

Fairies are hit or miss...

Four won't look at you.

It makes your heart writhe and flail miserably, but it's obvious enough. Four doesn't want anything to do with you just now.

It hurts to know he dosen’t want to speak with you, but that's his right.

You move away from Spooky and the three males who are loving the panther up and start towards Legend and Hyrule.

Legend looks to you with wide eyes when you stop before him and Hyrule.

"Are you two okay?" You ask.

"Uh- fine!" Hyrule says way too fast.

"Just... not a fan of wild animals..." Legend manages faintly.

You smile softly, fondness you aren't ready to examine the origin of seeping into your being. "It's going to be okay. Spooky won't attack, and if for whatever reason they do, I'll stop them."

Legend swallows hard, "Don't do that. It's fine..."

"Hey, it's going to be okay, I pro-" You start only for Hyrule to interrupt.

"No promises!" Hyrule yelps as he grips his tunic in both hands tightly.

"Okay?" You manage, more confusion than anything.

Oh.

Promises.

Like in the dream.

("Honeybee, you have to be very, very careful when you interact with the Fae," an older teen says as he holds your hand in both of his. "You can't make Promises with a fairie. That's so dangerous... even if it's me.")

"Just... I don't like Promises." Hyrule says softer, looking away.

"Okay, that's okay. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. It will be okay, though. Spooks is a sweetheart."

"I- Jesus jumped up christ," Legend laughs shakily, "Who gets adopted by a panther?"

You shrug a little, "Me, apparently. Maybe I'll befriend a rabbit next."

The rabbit comment is a spur of the moment joke out of your mouth before you register it.

Legend's ears dust pink at the tips, his eyes are wider yet. He almost squeaks when he asks, "Rabbit?"

"You never know," you say.

Legend just nods dumbly.

"Is your leg okay?" Hyrule asks, bringing the injury up again.

"There's a dull ache, but I'm fine it's not too bad."

Legend looks you over, hand twitching as if he wants to touch you and is holding himself back.

Apparently accepting that you're their soulmate allows your memories and intuition to start surfacing more.

It's... strange and sort of nice to know the chain so much better... but you already know them, even before.

This makes your head hurt.

"I could heal it?" Hyrule's offers.

You shake your head, "No thanks. Save your magic, I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Hyrule frowns.

"I'm sure," you say.

Your words don't seem to reassure either man much, but they seem to drop it.

"Well, it's good the skulltulas didn't win," Legend manages faintly.

Hyrule elbows his predecessor sharply.

You snort. "I'm glad about it too."

Legend gives a weak smile.

"You should go get Spooky before Twilight tries to pick them up," Hyrule says with a soft laugh as he points to the scene behind you.

That's probably a good idea.

You offer your most reassuring smile, "Spooks will love you, trust me."

You turn to go save Twilight's spine from his apparent need to lift a panther.

"We should keep moving soon," Time calls out.

-------

Warriors watches you, Wind, and Legend. The captain notes how Sky is in front of you walking with Four. nearby but far enough away for you not to pull him into the conversation.

You're snickering as Wind flits about you and Spooky.

Warriors still can't believe you have a panther.

His Dove would never bring a panther to the group.

Wait.

Fuck.

His Dove would absolutely do that.

He gives a slow, heavy sigh that does nothing to diminish the aching fondness.

Warriors shouldn't think you bringing home a random panther is adorable. He really, really shouldn't.

He does anyway.

He finds himself tuning into your conversation.

"Keep your panther on the other side of you," Legend groans when Spooky tries to sniff him again.

You snort, gently pushing Spooky away. "Be nice, pumpkin."

Legend just sighs, "I can't believe you're calling that predator something so sweet."

"What can I say? It fits," You laugh, scratching Spooky's face.

Wind glares at Legend. "Are you giving them shit about the best cat ever?"

Warriors agrees with the groan Legend gives.

"Wind," you sigh.

"All I'm saying is that hearing a predator get called 'pumpkin' is strange," Legend says easily.

"That's ridiculous," Wind scoffs.

"Okay, well, Ledge has a point," you shrug.

"Ledge?" Wind snickers.

Legend just sighs heavily, with far more token exhaustion than anything. "Just shut up, sailor."

"What, you don't mind being called Ledge?" Wind grins.

"I won't call you that if you don't want me to?" You offer.

Warriors can barely stand this conversation, and he isn't even in it.

"It's fine," Legend says with only a little panic. You know the normal amount of panic.

"You sure?"

"It's fine," Legend waves off.

"Oh, that bridge dosen’t look steady," Hyrule says from ahead.

That last bit feel ominous...

The group gathers around Time a few feet from the bridge.

"Maybe one at a time?" Warriors suggests.

There's a few rounds of agreement, and then there's the debate of who goes first.

Wild and Time go first.

Then Hyrule and Sky

Then Wind and Twilight go.

Four goes after that with Legend.

Your turn comes, and you cross it, with Warriors, making it halfway before the bridge breaks, and you both fall.

There's a heart-stopping stillness and cracking sounds.

Warriors manages to make panicking eye contact with Time as the old man grabs Legend and Sky to stop them from running at you two.

The bridge gives out, and all Warriors can hear is screaming and air.

There's screaming of both of your names and Warriors has just enough sense to reach out and grab your wrist.

His hand closes around your wrist just before you both plunge into the river.

All sense of direction is lost in the current.

Water rushes around him, pressure changing.

He tightens his grip on your wrist.

Light is visible.

Warriors feels you try to get to the light, so he kicks his feet to try and help, still holding your wrist.

There's pressure and then -

Warriors breaks the surface in time to see you.

You give shuttering, wheezing coughs.

He hopes this is the worst of your problems.

-------

Next

Taglist: @danyzta @vrsin @silver-the-pendejo @tulip-does-stuff @justanotherweeb666 @yourlocaltreesimp @blueberrysungie @victoryssong23 @shu-leepy @sleepifonlyigoti @sour-patch-delight @phlying-squirrel @pumpkincitrus @krys0210 @theregoeskittykat @fuckingfaraway @doodle-with-rhy @luxreader

[fixated-cookies]

need me some wildberry non con please 😔💔

(thank you for your time!)

oooohh wildberry, yummm. I really need to start progressing into the game more because I'm still on world 8 of crispea, and haven't even gotten to Beast Yeast yet ughhhh I'm missing out!

Forgive me if he seems horrible and out of character, I had to research about him and watch videos to grasp his character. He's so honorable and brooding!! I will rub my dirty hands all over him

WARNING- YANDERE, non/dubcon,

For him to do such a thing he would have needed to snap, but the signs would hard to notice, remember, he's Hollyberry's personal bodyguard, he has a strong duty to perform, and he will deliver.

Wildberry Cookie’s most desperate point would come when his two greatest priorities—his sworn duty to Hollyberry Cookie and his overwhelming obsession with you are at odds. He is a Cookie of unshakable loyalty, built on discipline and devotion.

He is duty-bound to protect the queen, but he needs the reader. The idea of leaving either one alone haunts him, and the pressure builds until something breaks. With his loyalty to the queen, you can expect him to start to neglect you out of fear of either rejection or guilt. In fact, because of this, you may end up growing closer to another cookie anyway, one that has time for you and is attentive to you

If another Cookie begins taking up too much of your time, jealousy and self-doubt fester inside him. his love would manifest in agonizing restraint, because if he fails in his duty to Hollyberry Cookie, he is nothing. But if he lets you slip away… what is he living for?

Lets say you decide to announce to him that you were planning on leaving the kingdom, perhaps the pure vanilla kingdom is more of your style, or maybe you want to go travelling and explore throughout crispea. oh no.

"Please." His head dips, pink bangs falling over his eyes. His massive, battle-worn hands tremble at his sides, torn between holding you and letting go.

"I...I just wanted to see the world, y'know" you laughed nervously under his intense gaze and silence...

"You can’t. You—" His breath stutters, something visibly breaking inside of him. A part of him you have never seen before...

A mistake. A lapse. A moment of weakness.

Before you can react, he surges forward. His lips crush against yours—rough, desperate, pained. He holds your face so carefully, reverently, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from shattering completely.

You'll push away completely breathless, confused, and wondering why he's behaving this way. You can grab onto his shoulders all you want to create distance, but it'll be futile anyway. He's much taller and stronger than you'll ever be.

"No-" you gasped out only to be suffocated once again under his endless devotion. He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting the both of you

"It's because of them, is it not?" He saw it. Them. Stepping in when he wasn’t there. Placing a hand on you. As if they had any right.He breathes in sharply, as if trying to calm himself. "Tell me." His voice is quieter now, more dangerous. "Have they been watching over you? Every second? Every breath? Have they bled for you?"

His fingers brush against your wrist—light, hesitant, as if afraid he might break you. But you both know the truth. He is the one who’s breaking. You can struggle all you want but has something to prove.

"Let me show you what I’m good for."

the next you'll be seeing is the ceiling as suddenly you're on your back with him hunched over you. He's not a barbarian, he still does have some sense within him. He'll be so gentle, he promises. Through your own cries and protest he can be so gentle, just let him take care of you, to show you just how deep his devotion goes.

He'll lick at your bits for hours, savoring the taste of his love. His large hands will keep you still, to cease all your squirming. A large hand will find their way to your warm tummy, and keep you pinned while the other lifts your legs up to give him more access to you.

He's not one to do things half-assed, he will be getting multiple orgasms out of you just by oral alone. And once you're too blissed out to do fight back, he can take the opportunity to feel you from the inside. And yes, the carpet does match the drapes. He's thick, which isn't surprising based on how meaty he is, the moment he enters you, you'll hear his deep and rumbling groan ring through the room.

He struggles to keep himself contained from just taking you and fucking you into the mattress. But he kept his promise of being gentle, so gentle you'll wish he was rough. he'll lean into the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent as he ruts into you.

He doesn't even need to restrain you with anything as his size alone is enough to keep you flushed between the mattress and him. He groans are power and deep, yet almost whiny, like he's so blissed out from finally able to show his devotion. He just need it, just need you to give him that extra push

[doumadono]

hey! I'd like a mango cone with lots of sprinkles and maple syrup!

Characters Bakugo and Dabi (Touya) separately pls

-👾☠️

MY HERO ACADEMIA M.LIST - 3

Bakugo

Bakugo initially approaches you with a gruff demeanor, clearly trying to hide his concern. Bakugo's eyes dart to where you're sitting, trying to hide the wince of pain every time you move. "Oi, you idiot. What the hell were you thinking? Can't even protect yourself properly?"

Despite his harsh words, his hands will be surprisingly gentle as he examines your injuries. "Tsk, what a mess. Just sit still and let me handle it."

He brings over a first aid kit, slamming it down next to you. Bakugo awkwardly fumbles with the bandages. "Oi, who knew you'd be so clumsy on the battlefield." After a moment, he grumbles again, "Hold still, idiot," while wrapping your wound carefully.

You and Bakugo have been friends for years since meeting at UA, but you struggle to recall seeing him act like that ever before because he always kept you at arm's length. But now? Despite trying to maintain a gruff and cold facade, he's surprisingly affectionate towards you.

As he tends to your wounds, he grumbles under his breath about how you always manage to get hurt. "You're such a pain in the ass, dammit. Do you enjoy making me worry?"

When you flinch from the pain, he'll clench his jaw, trying to hide his own frustration after causing you more pain. "Stop moving, dammit! I'm trying to help you here."

He keeps on grumbling about how annoying it is to have to take care of you, but still, he makes sure you have everything you need to feel better.

If you thank him for his help, he'll quickly brush it off, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Hmph. Don't get used to it! I just can't stand seeing you in such a pathetic state."

He pats your head roughly in the end, "Just… don't get hurt again, okay, nerd?"

But when he thinks you're not looking, you'll catch a rare glimpse of concern in his eyes before he quickly looks away, muttering something about you being annoying, again.

Dabi

Dabi's turquoise eyes narrow as he sees you being carried in by Twice, clearly hurt from the battle. "Took you both long enough to get back," he mutters, though his eyes betray his concern.

As Twice gently sets you down, Dabi can't help but hover close, trying to assess your injuries without making it obvious. "You look like shit," he says gruffly, but there's a tenderness to his tone that wasn't there before.

When you glance up at him after he lingers a bit too long checking your injuries, and your eyes meet, he gruffly murmurs, "I'm just making sure you're not completely useless to our cause."

You've never been involved romantically, but when he's tending to your wounds, he becomes incredibly protective. He keeps other League of Villains members at bay, and if he could, he'd shield you with his own body.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind that perhaps, just perhaps, Dabi feels something more than camaraderie towards you…

When you wince from pain as he treats your wounds, he immediately scolds you, "Don't move too much, Y/N."

As he applies a healing salve or wraps your wounds, he avoids eye contact, focusing intently on his task.

If anyone of the League comments on his sudden caring attitude, he snaps, "Shut up, maniac! It's just because she's gonna be troublesome otherwise."

After taking care of you, he mumbles, "Just rest now, Y/N, and better appreciate this. I don't go around playing nursemaid for just anyone."

As he heads away, he casts one last look back at you, a rare gentleness in his eyes before he exits the common room to attend to his own duties.

Rest assured, anyone who dared to harm you in that battle will meet their demise very soon, and Dabi will ensure they suffer for it. It'll be a head for every wound you got.

[idliketobeatree]

having a lot of messy catwin thoughts, may i?

the tale of edwin and the cat king is cautionary, but it's a hopeful one and i'll die on this hill. i would narrow it down to a simple "play with your food for too long and it'll bite you",

and also, "there's a difference between freedom of body and emancipation of soul, but both come from a place of confinement."

it works in both ways. like all spells, flexibility comes with a price to pay. the cat king discovers first-hand that too much pleasure can kill you; by letting himself enjoy edwin's presence, he grows a sense of affection he was not prepared for when giving out the task.

what's more interesting, he never even planned to win by making edwin stay in port townsend. the cat king essentialy sets himself up for failure by giving a brilliant and meticulous boy– a goddamn detective– a riddle which he can easily solve. it takes edwin what, a few days to get close to the exact number?

of course, he expected that. eventually.

what he's really willing to bet on is the time spent with edwin, hoping he'll warm up to him by sheer proximity. the amount of stolen moments depended on his luck, if the boy turned out to be extra clever, maybe he'd have two or three days. maybe a week or more. from his experience, perhaps enough to break the uptight tease's composure.

but typically it ricochets, because he's the one getting hopelessly and romantically attached by the end.

with the events unfolding, the cat king gets progressively more trapped within the bounds he set himself. some of them he can't escape and it's fine, like his kingdom, an enclosure as much as a reluctant playground.

(credits to the king, making sure they are on equal grouds for this game at least— with the caging bracelet, edwin also cannot escape.)

the point is, it's been a power exchange since the beginning, and with the exception for the very first meeting, each little rendezvous ends with edwin reaffirming his agency.

edwin's body is physically unmovable from the town's area, but his mind's eye toys with the budding attraction for the cat king almost out of his control. so you have a ghost who can hop to anywhere in the world– who's brilliant brain expands to the edges of human reasoning, ever evolving, never stilling– who has a best friend at his side, and he's still so. terribly. lonely.

and you have a trickster who's rightful place comes with the job title– who can get anything he wants and be whoever he needs– who after three or four regenerations and probably hundreds of years still hasn't learned how to let people in without bleeding out in the process.

and look: that's the point. they have to hurt each other. it purifies them. the confusion, the baring of teeth and cheeks, the knowing naked looks. they need each other like dark soil needs essential nutrients.

edwin experiences an epiphany: apparently, being cornered can lead to a greater understanding of yourself. and also, desires have a mind of their own? who'd have guessed? they're capable of manifesting through his ghost body and only by facing them upfront— by having a facsimile of a honest conversation with the cat king— edwin can make peace with what he wants, and who he is. for edwin, the trickster represents forbidden and not easily accessible freedom of a physical body, with all its needs and peculiarities.

but for the cat king, oh my. edwin represents the true freedom of soul.

i mean, look at what hell dragged in. took a little over a week for this white lily to bloom, confident and devastating in its beauty, when it should be charred black or wilting.

but you like his secret parts, don't you? are you even aware of yours? if he asks, will you let him dig in?

[bewitchedfeathers]

Hitching - Jay/ce Snz Fic

For the lovely anon that requested Jayce desperately hitching with a stuck sneeze. I hope this satisfies! Included Viktor inducing him with a tissue.

--------

“Oh mby god..”

“Jayce, are you alright?”

“I’mb finde I juh--just…hhh’Hhh…Sndf ndeed to sndeeze…SDnffff”

“And it is stuck?”

“Yeah, I keh-heeep…hih-hitching…”

Viktor came over to his side, letting a hand settle on Jayce’s shoulder and gently massaging at the muscle beneath his delicate fingers.

“That sounds frustrating,” he said with a small frown. He looked over Jayce and he looked no worse than he had this morning, nose slightly pink but otherwise energetic. His voice had a slight rasp to it and he’d been drinking tea all that morning but Jayce had assured him that it was a mild cold and it would pass on it’s own. 

“I cah-cadn’t get anything done. I just..hhh’Hihhh…Hih? SNDFF snffsnf keep doing that.” 

Viktor gave a sympathetic hum. Gaze turning thoughtful as he considered the problem. 

“I’m too hhh…distracted to work on eh-equations and I definitely can’t…hhh…can’t work on hh-huh anything phy-Hiihhhh…Hh’Huhhh’HUH…..nghh physical. Sdnff.”

He looked up at Viktor with pleading watery eyes.

“Perhaps-” Jayce interrupted him with a heaving breath in, eyes falling shut again and a tear slipping down one cheek as he hitched wildly for a moment but it again came to nothing.

“This is hh..ridiculous. Sndff,” He grumbled stuffily. 

“Perhaps, if we force you to sneeze it will give you some relief.”

“Force mbe? Huh-how do I make myself sndeeze?”

“Are you allergic to anything?”

Jayce immediately shook his head at the suggestion, a vague look of horror in his eyes as he imagined inducing with an allergen right now. “I definitely sdnff don’t want to…ahh-add allergies on top of…of…Hohh’hhh…Huhhh..of this.”

“Reasonable. Then perhaps something slightly more invasive.”

“More invasive?” Jayce said with a panicked expression, “I don’t like thuhh-the sound of that, Vik.”

“No, no, nothing harmful. I just meant perhaps inserting something into your nose might induce a strong enough reaction to cause you to sneeze.”

“You thih-think Hhhh…Hiiihh’HIH!...hnn. Hoh…my god. Okay. I’ll try anything…”

“Give me a moment,” Viktor stepped away to search through his bag for an appropriate tool. Jayce rubbed irritably at his nose, which twitched under his touch leading to another round of wavering breaths that lead nowhere.

“Ah, there we are,” Viktor murmured and pulled a packet of tissues from his bag he kept in case of emergency. Both Jayce and Viktor usually carried a handkerchief, and Jayce had brought in a few this morning, setting them on a side table in preparation for a work day with a head cold. But today his tissues would be used in a different way than a kerchief.

Viktor returned to Jayce's side and tugged a stool over to sit next to him. He pulled out the tissues and began rolling one into a long point. Jayce watched curiously as he dabbed his nose with his usual red hankie. 

“Now this will be inserted into one of your nostrils, preferably the one most sensitive, until we hit a spot that triggers a sneeze,” he outlined his method casually.

“And you thuh…huh..thought this up just now?”

“No, I've done it to myself once or twice before, for a similar reason.”

“Huh. Okay, so I just stick it hihh..hh… up there.”

“I would insert it going slowly and twisting it as you go and then gently pressing it to the back of your nose. I can do it for you, if you'd prefer?”

“You don't thihhh-hihh…think that's weird?”

“We work with the strange and unexplainable everyday, this is really very mundane, don't you think?”

“I guess… Then um let's hahh-ve you do it. If Sdnff you don't mind.”

“I said I don’t,” he offered mildly, “Now move your chair closer so I can reach more easily.”

Jayce pauses in his movement. “Wait, if this w-works I'll end up hh…huh?.. sneezing on you”

“Nonsense you will hold your handkerchief at the ready and catch any sneezes in it. It'll be fine.”

Jayce bit his lip mulling it over, “Okay. Okay, lets go ah-head and do it then.”

“Good. Now sit and tilt your head up slightly,” he directed gentle but firm.

Jayce tilted his head back and his breath hitched, flaring his nostrils wide before they relaxed again as his breathing leveled out. 

“Very good,” Viktor praised distractedly. Jayce's cheeks flushing lightly in response.

Viktor inserted the tip of the rolled up tissue just past the edge of one nostril. But as soon as it brushed the inner rim Jason flinched back on instinct. His nostrils flared wide as he heaved in a few gasping breaths, and then huffed out a discontent sigh.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, sniffling congestedly.

“It's alright, Jayce. Lets try again.” This time Viktor took a hold of Jayce's chin to help keep him still. He inserted the tissue into Jayce's nose and ignored the way Jayce's breath hitched and wavered at the least provocation. He twisted it slowly as he pushed it farther up and Jayce's hands balled into fists where they clenched along the edges of his handkerchief. 

“I can..hahh..feel it…hh-huhh. Hoh god it tih-hihhh…HIHHH…”

Viktor felt the tissue nudge against the back of Jayce's sinuses and his chest heaved, brow crumpling and eyes slamming shut. Viktor didn't let up, twirling the tissue between his fingers while keeping it there. 

“HIIHHH..HIH..HUHHHHHHH!?” He hovered for a moment on the precipice and Viktor nudged the tissue up.

“EERRRRUSHHOOO…HH’EEIISSHHHHOO…HH’HEH’EIISHHHHUHH…”

The first two sneezes caught Victor's hand before he could pull the tissue away. Jayce's head ducking down to aim towards his lap and the handkerchief still held halfway to his face. He managed to mostly capture the third in the loose folds of the kerchief.

“HEHGZSSHHuhh…Heh’DJSHOO…huhh…I cah-cad’t hhhhh’IGZSSHHuhh stop hh’huh-HEH’SHOO…”

“Try blowing your nose when you can, Jayce,” Viktor offered with soft concern.

“Hh’hh’EISSHHuhh…hhh’EDJSHHOO…” he managed to blow his nose, only pausing to sneeze once, before managing to get some relief. His handkerchief was a mess and he flushed keeping it pressed to his nose.

“Jesus, excuse me,” he offered bashfully.

“Bless you, Jayce,” Viktor murmured with a soft sympathetic look. “Feeling any better?”

Jayce sniffled, considering the answer, but he gave a tired smile when his breathing remained slow and even. “Yeah, actually. Thank you, Viktor.”

“It was nothing,” he responded, waving off Jayce's gratitude. “Now what is it you were working on?” He asked curiously. 

Jayce eagerly launched into an explanation only pausing for the occasional cough or sneeze. Both of them happy to focus on the science they loved. And if Viktor made tea and brought him tissues while insisting he wasn't fussing over him, Jayce chose not to call him on it.

----

Let me know if you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated and motivating! <3

[Snz Fic Masterlist]

[mrmeowski]

˚✧𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒✧˚

Synopsis: It only happens once a year and the Seven Rulers of Hell wanted it to be perfect for you. You're the one who mended their relationships, if you weren't born then perhaps their situation with be a lot more different. They hoped they made this day memorable for you.

CW: Lesson 6 [Beel] & 16 [Belphie] spoilers, suggestive, angst

A/N: So yeah today's my birthday aaaand I wanted to treat myself and those who read this on their birthdays💝

Word Count: 2.3k

🧡༻✧ Lucifer [305] 💜༻✧ Mammon [401] 🧡༻✧ Leviathan [254] 💜༻✧ Satan [273] 🧡༻✧ Asmodeus [401] 💜༻✧ Beelzebub [337] 🧡༻✧ Belphegor [398]

⋇⊰LUCIFER⊱⋇

You should expect the most grandest and highest-class celebration you've ever seen. He never disappoints!

Although normally, Lucifer isn't a morning demon, today he's got noticeable energy early in the morning, it's your special day after all!

He's the first person to call you at midnight because he stayed up for you he's still up doing paperwork. Ah but don't worry, he won't be doing any more work all throughout the day. His focus is all on you!

You won't even know what's coming up, he leaves out a few hints here and there but you cannot fathom the entirety of the things he prepared for you. It felt like a crime to accept his high-quality and most probably expensive gifts. Yes, gifts, not just one but multiple.

When everything has ended, you're going straight to his room much to his brothers' dismay. You'll be stuck with him all night, sitting in his lap as he toyed with your hair, his mind deep in thought.

The impact that you made on his brothers—the impact you made on him—is far bigger than you could imagine. And that fact scares him.

Each year you get older... weaker. Days like this remind him of your mortality, that you cannot stay with them forever. What would he do when you leave him and he can't do anything to stop it? It make his chest tighten every time it crosses his mind but he refuses to let it ruin the sweet moments he gets to spend with you. He'll make sure every second counts.

You'll never know how grateful he is that he has you in his life, in his brothers' lives. He may be a bit stubborn at times and doesn't admit it. But there is one way where he can show you how grateful he is...

⋇⊰MAMMON⊱⋇

It'll be one of a day when you're with this guy! That's for sure. Just get ready to have the best birthday ever with no one other than the Great Mammon! You should be grateful he's putting all his effort into this!

Wanted to be the first to tell you since he was your first! ...But he fell asleep and immediately felt bad. You swear he was about to cry there and then when he repeatedly apologizes to you.

Somehow he's still a tsundere through the day even if he's the most excitedly of the brothers. For he has his little crows give you trinkets such as bracelets, sweat, and love letters from him. When you question him about this he reasons out that they have a mind of their own and he's totally not telling them to send them to you 'cause he can't do it himself! Do you think that low of him!?

He snuck you off during the party and finally handed out to you his present personally. Honestly, he feels a bit overwhelmed when his brothers have all their eyes on them, and this place... this kitchen... it holds a special memory for the both of you. It may be a bit odd for something that's supposed to be grand and formal but this is when you made a pact with him... when he began to stir something for you.

The gift is not as expensive as Lucifer's not because he is selfish or whatnot, instead, he focuses more on the effort he put into the gift. The meaning it holds. That's what he cared about the most.

Prays that you don't hate it and when you didn't and even told him you loved it. He teared up. Hugging you and twirling you around the room. Definitely kiss you as well right after it.

He may be a bit excited and emotional than you but he just really appreciates and loves you, so he hopes you don't mind him. You're not just important to him but his brothers as well and today's the day you were brought into the world, the reason why he's family's whole again, why he's able to look forward to something every time he wakes up. You've made a change in everyone's life, not just his brothers, but people like the angels and the Demon Prince, and he has to say thanks somehow.

⋇⊰LEVIATHAN⊱⋇

Just another day where he spends it all in his room playing games and watching TSL. He's just constantly looking at the time because... a new season is about to come up! Not because he's waiting to call you by midnight and wants to be the first to say happy birthday!

Levi doesn't know how he's going to celebrate your birthday, he hasn't been this stressed about something so not otaku-like in decades. He's worried that he'll ruin your big day and it'll be memorable for the wrong reason. What if he gets you something that you dislike and they you began hating him!?

This day is making him more nervous than he would like to admit but he can't help it! You're his best friend, an actual physical person that he can confidently talk with to his heart's contents without being judged or laughed at, someone he's fortunate enough to know and love—if only he could tell you that without running off or words just falling off his mouth.

His gift was something limited addition from a show or game that you adored. He tried so hard to find it just for you so he really really hopes you loved it! Even if it's the last one he doesn't mind giving it to you.

It's the least he can do for how much you helped him, how much you meant to him, and even though he still struggles saying how he truly feels, he promises that he'll do his best for you.

⋇⊰SATAN⊱⋇

The day before... or more accurately, a week before your birthday, he already has a very detailed list of things to do today. He wanted it to be perfect for you! It's what you deserved after all.

You went to all your favorite places and did all the activities he knows you enjoy, along with new journeys that fit your liking. He only listed out all the things you loved since seeing you smile is more than enough for him.

Satan put a lot of thought into his gift, he doesn't want to just give anything, it needs a meaning to it! Plus, he needs to one-up Lucifer and this was the perfect chance. His gift should show you how much you've changed him; the new feelings you made him experience; and that even if he lost control of his anger, you still love and accept him for what he is.

He poured his heart onto this gift and he won't lie, he was a bit worried he'll disappoint you but you didn't! He breathed out a sigh of relief one he wasn't aware he was holding. Seeing you so enthusiastic opening his present, the shine in your eyes when you finally see it, he'll keep that memory in his mind.

Just like the eldest, he's reminded of your mortality but this is not the day to ponder about that plus there's one more thing yet to be checked in his list! That is staying the night in his room. Just you and him... the books and cats... and the growing desire he has been holding back ever since the clock chimed midnight.

⋇⊰ASMODEUS⊱⋇

He's always a big talk when it comes to his beauty sleep but when it comes to you, he'll drop that in a heart bit. Your reaction is worth more and he wants bragging rights to say that he told you happy birthday first.

Today is your big day after all! It's the day you were brought into this world to be down here with him—and his brothers of course! He wants all the attention to you, you deserve it after what you've done for them... to him especially.

Expect him to be your designated fashion designer. He doesn't want you to look bad on your birthday! So all your outfits should be not just outstanding but they have to be iconic! He'll make sure you're the hot topic in Devilgram.

Of course, he's gifts have style in them! Everything fits your taste and he's confident you'll fall in love with them like he did with you. He has always had a keen eye for what you love, storing all the knowledge until this day.

All throughout the celebration, he'll take pictures with every move you make. For once, he isn't the main model. He wants to show you off, to show these demons how beautiful you are and how lucky he is that he has you in his arms!

Asmo insisted on staying with him after the party so you and he could do his nightly routine. Just basking in your glow and enjoying your presence. No sharing, no interruptions, just you and him having a moment.

You were the few who see him as a person, for his capabilities and feelings. Not someone of his sin, not someone who only admires him for his beauty. At first, he was a bit iffy that you were charmed but that only built a genuine relationship between the two of you.

Back then, he thought he could never love someone as he loves himself, it was impossible... and if he did it never lasts. His feelings die off and he'll find a new. But you... you made the Avatar of Lust head over heels for you and you will succumb to the consequences.

You should've expected it... bathing with someone who has feelings for you leads to a pleasurable ending. Don't back off now, you did this, you made him fall and he'll show you how deep his love can go.

⋇⊰BEELZEBUB⊱⋇

He's soooo excited and takes today very seriously. If somebody messes up it up, he'd be so upset especially if that fool is not one of his brothers. Nobody will ruin your day on his watch!

Oh, and Beel will make sure you'll eat so good today, so much so that little tummy of yours won't be able to handle it all. As soon as he gets the chance, you'll be dragged to every restaurant, and by every he meant. Already full? Well, make room 'cause it ain't done yet!

But you see, that isn't his gift, his gift is a dish he personally made for you. Every flavor is to your liking... he personally tasted it just to be double—triple sure.

Food makes him happy and so he got you so much because he also wanted you to feel the joy he gets from eating! It makes him warm and fuzzy inside whenever you're eating with him, sometimes he doesn't even want to eat the dishes because what he wants is... you.

He's well aware food is his thing and it bothers him. All he wants—actually, sometimes he doesn't even want to but his body just needs to eat and eat; he never feels full and he can't stop. That's what it had been ever since he fell but you changed him... the slightest. He still eats, a lot, but now he enjoys it what he loves most is spending time with you even if you doing absolutely nothing. Those moments make him full but with bliss.

These are his simple ways to show his gratitude to the changes you made not just to him, but his brothers as well. You had a big impact on them. Heck, you reunited him with his twin; you listened to him rant about his nightmares of Lilith; and you poured effort into mending their relationship.

All of his brothers, especially him, love and adore you. He hopes you can see it through their actions, words, and gifts.

⋇⊰BELPHEGOR⊱⋇

He tried to stay up, key word tried, but he succumbed to his sin and fell asleep midway. He has an entire day to tell you happy birthday tomorrow so why should he bother staying up? For the bragging rights? Belphie knows you'll be cuddling with him by the end of the day whether he's first to not.

Even with his nonchalant attitude—which his brothers were a little bit peeved about—he already had something in his sleeve. You know him so much at this point that you can see that he's also as excited as his brothers, he just doesn't show it very well.

Right after the party, he snuck you away to the balcony, which gave you a clear view of the Devildom skies. You've always done this with him but even still, you can't help but be in awe. Tonight was different though, instead of the stars shifting into different animals or scenarios of his brothers, it instead spelled out words: "Happy Birthday [Name]," then there were stars imitating fireworks exploding.

All throughout his eyes were only on you, seeing how your eyes shone filled him with much joy. He snuggled deep into the crook of your neck as you giggled. This felt like he was back in the Celestial Realm... then he remembered the scummy things he had done.

He had been awful to you: he had said many sarcastic things that sometimes hurt you; he'd been treating situations like they were not a big deal; then... the most infamous thing, killing you in that forsaken attic after you helped him escape. He expected you to hate him, to not bother talking to him—you did, for like a few days but after that, you were willing to forgive him and to start over.

You're the reason that he's out of the attic and reunited with his twin, the reason to be with his family again and not isolated. He knows he still has issues to fix but with your help, he knows he'll take the right step. Sometimes in his sleep, he dreams of a world without you, if you didn't listen to him back then or didn't forgive him. He'd be lost, forever stuck in that cage, out of touch with his twin.

He owes you so much and he swears he'll make you happy and safe. He promises you that...

A Special Day 2025 [Twisted-Wonderland]» [WIP] Request» Masterlist»

[avocado-writing]

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

*eats your words*

no but seriously, your writing has me kicking my feet when I’m supposed to be typing an essay 😞‼️ I was wondering if you could do some headcanons for the companions x monk! Tav who, when being confessed to, Tav responds with “it’ll pass”?

basically fleabag inspired 😍‼️ please and thank you! stay safe n warm 🔫

OH GOD HEARTBREAKING i tried to make it have a happy ending tho!!! enjoy! and I'm so glad that you enjoy my writing! (mild nsfw mentions)

writing as if you're saying this because you think you wouldn't be the best option for their future, one way or another, and want to try and soften the blow for them by replying like this. you only want them to be happy and you're scared it can't be with you.

Astarion

you cup his face, and the look in your eyes is so, so sad.

you think perhaps your simple nomadic lifestyle will not be enough for him. you love him, you do, but he needs someone more modern. more cosmopolitan.

when you tell him it will pass you see a myriad of expressions cross his face: sadness, confusion, anger... but finally, resolve.

he takes your hand in his, firmly.

"my heart. I know when things will pass, and when they won't. my love for you is not some trifle, a fashion to be abandoned like it would go out of style. I mean it. I can make my own decisions, and I have decided where I want to be. It's with you."

he reaches out to embrace you. you're surprised, but let him do it anyway, and you bury your face into his neck to hide your emotions.

maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

you hold him tighter than ever that night.

Gale

you're worried he is too smart for you. that he will get bored of you, and the idea breaks your heart.

you tell him "it'll pass" when he confesses because you're scared.

seems actually offended that you'd tell him his love for you might be fleeting.

"there are things which will span the ages. stories, gods, heroes. my love for you is one of them. I do not confess that lightly. you are a beacon of hope in my life, love... and that will never fade."

goes on for some time afterwards about how committed he is and how much he loves you, until eventually you accept that he's not going anywhere.

bloody wizards, so good with their words...

fall asleep that night after having the most intimate lovemaking session, all about feeling each other's breath and heartbeats.

he is here to stay, forever.

Wyll

wyll deserves someone amazing. someone who could handle his life if he became duke, and you're scared you'll let him down.

when you tell him 'it'll pass' he is hurt, and leaves the conversation for a moment. you think perhaps it is for the best. you don't need this to cause any more pain.

but later he comes to find you and asks if he can have a private moment. you find out he wasn't hiding from you but preparing: he has a little intimate picnic set up where you can sit and be alone.

when you're comfortable he tells you about how deep his love is, how fate has thrown you together.

"there is nothing about how i feel about you that could pass. nothing."

to prove his point, he slips to his knee, and that is when he proposes.

you're overcome with emotion. you have to accept how committed to you he is, and work out if you deserve something as fierce as his love.

there are tears in your eyes when you accept. you never think his love will pass again.

Karlach

probably the hardest one to say this too. together, your future is so uncertain. it will be easier to break it off here rather than maim both of you.

gets angry. in fact, goes into a rage. tears up the surroundings, and for a moment you're taken aback--

but then she turns and she's sobbing, stuck at the midpoint between being apoplectic and brokenhearted.

"you don't get to decide that for me! you don't! you're the first person i've loved... I've touched... I've felt anything for, for a fucking decade! when i feel this, it doesn't fade! how dare you think about yourself like that? as if you're some sort of phase?"

eventually she calms down enough but bursts into tears instead. you go to hold her and she embraces you so tightly that the wind is knocked from your body.

"i love you. i won't leave you. don't leave me." her voice is tiny.

how could you ever say no? how could you ever doubt her?

when the two of you are in Avernus, you're reminded of this moment, and so glad she fought against it. you'd trade this away for nothing.

Lae'zel

would she want someone like you? long term? she's so brave, so fierce. what if you're not good enough? what if your relationship develops only for you to let her down?

she gets angry too, but quieter.

is furious that you would question her affection.

"githyanki do not give their devotion lightly. the fact that you think my love for you could pass makes me wonder how well you know me."

it turns into an argument where you try and explain your side, and she's angry at you for thinking this way.

eventually it descends into angrily making out. some fierce lovemaking. her saying how much she loves you, possesses you, between every bite and kiss.

you lie in the afterglow. she says she will not leave, and pretty much tells you that you won't either. you agree, and tangle your hand with hers.

Shadowheart

tries to hide how hurt she is.

yes, Shar is the lady of loss, but the idea of losing you... of not having you in her life? unthinkable.

you only tried to tell her it will pass so that, if she wishes to become a dark justiciar, she will have no lingering attachment to you after.

and yet...

it is blasphemy for her, but she refuses to let you go.

"no. i won't allow it. i can't believe this will fade between us. you are the most precious thing to me. stay."

you're weak for her, end up tumbling into bed, reconfirming your love for each other.

you never quite believe that this is forever until she changes her hair, embraces selune. then your heart is full of joy. and it is full of Shadowheart.

[the-kr8tor]

happy anniversary!!! i really love your work so heres a potion request!!!

flax seeds for hobie with lots of ❣️ where reader is a performer at a saloon or bar that hobie visits frequently and y’know😋😋

Cowboy! Hobie my beloved ❤️ thank you for requesting!

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, cw alcohol mention, wild west au, established relationship, singer! Reader, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff!

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One year celebration 🎉

The familiar angelic voice immediately eases Hobie's tired bones the second he steps inside the saloon. Your voice is saccharine, and yet sultry enough to get all the usual rowdy cowboys to sit still and stand to a halt as if you're announcing the recent winners of a horse race.

Not even Hobie is immune to your voice, he has grown fond of it over the years of visiting the local watering hole. As he sits on a stool beside the bar, not even the bartender himself could ignore your singing. You're like a siren to them, singing them over to their watery graves, and they all let it happen, hands nursing their respective drinks, long forgotten to listen to you with sober ears.

But Hobie knows you beyond just being a singer, he knows your voice when you're chatting about some nonsensical thing that you're fixated about, and yet he listens intently like you're retelling an epic. Under the night sky, a campfire illuminating your pretty features, he sings to you, and you're the audience this time around— eyes glued to him, savouring his singing as if you've never heard anything better than him when he knows it's the opposite. And yet you stay through the night, eating canned peaches and beef jerky while the two of you talk until the sun rises and it's back to the ranch for him and the saloon for you.

All those times being around you, and all those stolen glances from the bar towards the tiny stage you see as your very own theatre stage, he found affection for you that's sweeter than your tone. And perhaps he thinks you have too when your eyes are gazing at him and him only the second his boots hit the floor of the saloon. It's as if you're attuned to him, always seeking him out within the audience. And with him magnetized to your being, he always seems to know whenever you're on stage. Without a doubt, he's smitten.

As you end your haunting song, a round of applause rises inside the saloon, patrons tossing their bills into a bowler hat you always carry around. You've always said that once the bowler hat is filled to the brim, it's a good day for you. And without fail, you pay for his drink and yours whenever it's one of those days. He knows you've always dreamed of something more than this, a life in the spotlight where people can properly admire you and your singing just like how he has. But with the life you've been given, it's a mere dream for you. Hobie's willing to change that now that he has saved enough money specifically for you to go to the city and hopefully into the spotlight. It's all underneath his floorboards, hidden inside a pickle jar, coins clinking and bills filled by hard work. His calloused dry hands are a testament to that, but it'll be worth it once he sees you on the big stage like you always deserved to be on.

“Hi, handsome.” You say with a smile, eyes twinkling as you sit beside him. “What's your poison?”

“You payin’?”

“Hmm, let me consult my accountant.” You dig your hand inside the hat, counting your coins and sparse bills. Sucking in your teeth, it doesn't look like it's one of those days. “I can manage some gin for you?”

“What ‘bout you then?” Hobie taps his boot against your own.

“It might be for a good reason, liquor ruins my voice.” You flag the bartender down and order him his drink.

Smiling, his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You didn't say that last night when we drank a whole bottle of wine.”

Poking his chest, you giggle. “It was a celebration! You sold your twentieth cow, of course I'm going to drink my fill.”

The drink arrives, and he takes it, sliding it towards you smoothly. “Well, Bessie wouldn't celebrate much.”

“I've seen the Morgan farm, Hobie, Bessie is lucky to have that place.” Pushing the drink over to him with a raised brow, you laugh when he slides it back to you, playing tug of war with the cheap liquor.

His hand pauses on the glass, “you've seen their farm? Lovie, that's across town. And you don't have a horse.”

You shrug, thumb reaching towards the knit of his brows to smoothen his worry. “I walked, I like walking. And I was late in paying my rent so I helped with mending their fence and tilling their soil. Mr. Morgan and his wife were nice enough to give me a ride home anyway.”

Grabbing your hand gently, his fingers run along the new rough calluses on your palm. “Love—”

“It's fine!” You shrug again with a strained smile. “And they gave me a big loaf of bread as an extra.”

“You could've told me you needed money, I would've—”

“I don't want to owe you anything.” Leaning closer, elbows on your knees, you look at him in his green eyes. “Besides, you've done a lot for me already.”

His hand sews around your own. “I was ‘bout to say that I would've dropped you off, and picked you up.”

Smiling, you take the glass and take a sip before handing it to him as he takes a drink. “I didn't want to bother you.”

“Fuckin' bother me, love, wake me up in the arse crack of dawn and I wouldn't bloody care, next time you ask me, yeah? There are some people out there that aren't as nice as our locals.”

You nod, kissing his knuckles as you gaze at him softly. His heart lurches. “I will, next time I will, Hobie.”

“You don't deserve that kind of work anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you take another drink. “There we go—”

“‘m not sayin' you can't or shouldn't, but you deserve better than fixin’ fences.” You deserve better than this meager life.

“Like what?” You ask, voice solemn as you clutch at his hand. “We both know that leaving town is impossible with the savings I have.”

“With mine you could.” Hobie whispers, finishing the drink and tipping the glass upside down on the counter. “You could go to the city, and with your voice alone you could be famous. Get bloody rich.”

Your eyes soften. “Hypothetically, you have this kind of money?”

“Hypothetically, it's under my bed.” He shrugs, rough knuckles brushing along the curve of your jaw as his emerald eyes glimmer under the gas lamp lights. “You could get away from ‘ere, live your life.”

“You're breaking my heart, Hobie.” You choke on a sob as he flinches back, this wasn't the reaction he thought you'd have. “Without you? That's not a life worth living then.”

His breathing staggers. “Love—”

“I haven't told you about my life before this,” you swallow thickly. “I had that exact life you were talking about… a girl on her own, without a family to call her own, singing her heart out in front of a hundred souls in a big theatre. It wasn't all glitter and gold, Hobie. I ran away from them when the same people who promised me a good life turned it into my personal hell. I'd rather stay here with the people I've come to know, and the same town that took me in when I could barely stand on my feet. It's a meager life, but it's my own. And you're here, willing to give me everything just because you think I deserve it all, I say that's a life worth living. If you could have me that is.”

“Love.” Hobie inhales deeply, still reeling from your words. “You're alright with jus’ this? We'd be living in my ranch, and it'll be jus’ that.” No spotlight, no frills, it's nothing like the life he envisioned for you to have, but if it's the one you want, then he'll grant it to you when his love for you far reaches beyond the west and further across the glades and the sea.

“It's not just that. It's everything I dreamed of back then and even now. It's perfect.” You take his cheek, ducking to meet with his eyes. “If that wasn't blunt enough, I love you, Hobie Brown.”

“And I was ‘bout to offer you a bed up in the hayloft.” A smile slowly spreads across his face, and you mirror his beaming expression, laughing softly. “You'll have this life jus’ as it is?”

“If it's with you, yes.” You resist the urge to kiss him as you gently tug at his collar. He brushes his nose against your own, inhaling as you press your forehead atop his.

“When are you movin' in then?”