#shes a wet cat in human form

[brainbleedo]

GWENDOLYN BOUCHARD DADDY ISSUES CONFIRMED YEAAAAH

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤALIEN GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Mark Grayson x Fem Qu Reader Part 1

☆⁠ HEADCANON : He Was Just Living His Life When Put Of Nowhere An Alien Girl Cling To His Arms And Start Following Him Around...

☆⁠ NOTES : Qu is an alien species from the book All Tomorrows. You can learn more about her here. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Mark didn’t see you coming. One second, he was standing in the middle of a battlefield, panting, body aching from the fight, hands still slick with blood that wasn’t his. The next second, there you were, stepping out of the shadows like some ethereal creature, all glowing skin and impossibly long hair that cascaded over your body, shielding you like a silk curtain.

Mark thought you were scared. You looked fragile, standing there barefoot, naked yet somehow untouched by the carnage around you. He was about to ask if you were okay when you moved—graceful, slow, head tilting to the side like a curious cat.

Then, your soft fingers brushed his blood-streaked face.

You murmured something—words he couldn’t understand, a language that sounded like whispers and echoes in his ears. And then, with all the trust of a child, you leaned against his chest, pressing your face into him like he was some kind of anchor in this violent world.

Mark froze.

What the hell was happening?

And then, you clung to his arm like a koala, looking up at him with wide, fascinated eyes.

Mark had no idea what to do with you, but you weren’t giving him a choice.

You refused to let go, practically draping yourself over his arm as he stumbled his way back home. His mom nearly had a heart attack when she saw you—her reaction a mix of "Oh my god, why is there a naked girl in my house?" and "Mark, what the hell did you do?"

"Mom, I swear I don’t know what’s happening!"

You, meanwhile, just looked around the house like it was the most interesting thing in the universe. You poked at the couch, stared at the TV, then climbed onto the kitchen counter and perched there like a bird, blinking at them.

Debbie sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Mark. Explain."

He couldn’t. But after a lot of fumbling (and covering your body with his hoodie, which you hated because it felt weird), he managed to get out the basics—he had no clue who you were, where you came from, or why you were so attached to him.

You just sat there, listening, then suddenly spoke in that broken, childlike way of yours:

"You... kill. I like."

Debbie paled.

Mark choked.

"Oh my god—Mom, she doesn’t mean it like that!"

Living with you was... an experience.

For starters, you didn’t understand clothes. You hated them. Every time Mark turned around, you’d somehow gotten rid of his hoodie again, leaving you naked and unbothered.

"You need to wear something," he groaned, shoving his oversized T-shirt over your head.

You frowned, tugging at the fabric like it personally offended you.

"Feel bad. Skin... not like."

"Yeah, well, people don’t just walk around naked!"

"Why?"

"Because—it’s—!" He groaned. "Because it’s not normal!"

"...I am not human."

He blinked. Well, yeah, you had a point.

Then there was the affection.

You had zero concept of personal space.

You liked to lick him. For some godforsaken reason, you’d decided licking was a perfectly acceptable form of communication.

"STOP THAT!"

"Tastes... good."

"You don’t just—!" He wiped his face, groaning.

You also bit him. Soft little nibbles on his arm, his shoulder, his ear, like you were testing how breakable he was.

"You are... soft. Not strong."

"Gee, thanks."

And sitting? You didn’t just sit near him. No, you sat on him. On his lap, on his back, wherever you felt like. He had to physically pry you off sometimes.

And the worst part? You had no idea how attractive you were.

You were practically a walking wet dream—long, silky hair, an impossibly perfect body, and this innocent way of touching him that was definitely not innocent.

And you had no clue. None.

Amber took one look at you and decided she hated you.

And well... you hated her too.

The first time Amber put a hand on his arm, you straight-up tried to kill her.

“YOU CAN’T JUST KILL HER!”

"She touch." Your eerie, beautiful face was dead serious. "She want take. I no let."

Mark wanted to die.

"She’s my girlfriend!" he hissed.

Mark had to sit you down and explain what a girlfriend was.

You did not like it.

"Girlfriend? You Mark female?"

"Well, yeah."

You squinted. Stared at her. "…You weak."

“EXCUSE ME!?”

You nodded, completely serious. "Not strong. Not fast. Not smart. No fly. No fight. Not pretty. You ugly."

Amber shot Mark a glare. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU BRING HOME?!"

Mark dragged you away before you could start a fight.

You pouted. "She not good. She touch you."

"That’s what girlfriends do!"

"...You are mine."

Mark choked.

"No, I—No, I’m not!"

You blinked at him, looking utterly confused. "You are not... mine?"

"NO."

"...Why?"

Oh god, he needed a drink.

You’re Scary Sometimes

For all your innocence, you were still a Qu. A god-like being that viewed others as nothing more than ants.

And sometimes, it showed.

It started small.

A man touched his shoulder. Grabbed it.

Mark barely had time to register it before you lifted your hand, eyes dark and unblinking—

And the guy screamed.

His body convulsed. Twisted. His fingers elongated, skin peeling away as new, foreign muscle formed underneath. His eyes bulged, then split, spreading across his forehead like something from a horror movie.

By the time it was over, the man was not a man anymore.

He collapsed, shaking, his new limbs twitching in confusion.

Mark’s stomach dropped. "What the fuck?!"

You blinked at him, tilting your head like a confused child. "...Touch you."

"THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU TURN HIM INTO A—A—WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT IS!"

Your lips wobbled. You pouted, shoulders hunching like a scolded puppy.

Mark groaned, running a hand down his face. "Oh my God. You can’t do that to people just because they touch me."

"But... mine."

Mark felt his brain short-circuit. "...What?"

You curled up, pressing your face into his chest. "You... mate. Mine."

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Or the other time Mark found you kneeling over a man in an alley.

His body was trembling, eyes wide with horror, and you were just staring down at him, hand on his forehead, eyes blank.

"What are you doing?" Mark shouted.

You turned to him slowly. "I... fix."

"...Fix what?"

"He was... bad. I change him."

The man sobbed.

Mark dragged you away before he could find out what the hell you meant by "change."

Mark didn’t realize how much he cared about you until Amber dumped him.

He was crushed, sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like absolute shit.

Then you climbed into his lap.

He barely had time to react before your soft lips pressed against his.

He stiffened. "Wh—?"

You kissed him again, warm and slow, like you were tasting something new.

"You are sad," you whispered. "In movie, this... makes better."

He swallowed. "It’s not that simple."

You tilted your head. "I like you."

His heart stopped.

"...You do?"

You nodded, wrapping yourself around him like a living blanket.

"You are mine?"

This time, he didn’t say no.

Mark sat there, your warmth pressed against him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You looked up at him with those unreadable, almost otherworldly eyes—eyes that had seen things he couldn't even begin to imagine.

He should have pulled away. He should have.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he exhaled slowly, resting his forehead against yours. "You don’t really understand what love is, do you?"

You blinked, tilting your head in that way you always did when you were thinking. "...No."

"Then why do you like me?"

You hummed, considering, then slowly pressed a hand to his chest. "You... interesting. I watch. You fight. You... strong."

That made him snort. "You literally see me as a pet project, huh?"

You nodded. Dead serious.

He laughed. It wasn’t bitter this time, wasn’t weighed down with heartbreak. Somehow, you always had this way of distracting him, of making the world feel like something less heavy.

And then, as if you hadn’t just kissed him and staked your claim, you curled up against him, burying your face in his neck.

Mark stiffened.

"...You’re really affectionate, huh?"

You hummed. "Like... touch. Warm."

Oh, he was so screwed.

Mark thought living with you was weird before.

Now? Now it was a full-on disaster.

Because before, you were just a weird, beautiful alien girl who clung to him and had no concept of personal space. But now, you thought you were his.

Which meant you took full advantage.

You never let him sleep alone anymore. It didn’t matter where he was—his bed, the couch, even the floor—you would find him and drape yourself over him like a human-sized cat.

Clothes? Still a big no. You refused to wear anything besides his shirt. Which meant Mark spent half his time panicking whenever his mom walked into the room.

You licked him. Still. All the time. He’d be eating? Lick. Talking? Lick. Taking off his shirt after training? Lick.

"STOP THAT!"

"Taste... good."

"I AM NOT FOOD!"

But the worst part?

You still had no idea what was appropriate or not.

Like the time you walked into the shower.

Mark had never screamed so loudly in his life.

You just blinked at him, completely unbothered, and sat on the edge of the tub, staring at him with zero shame.

"You... hide body?"

"YES, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE DO!"

"...Why?"

"BECAUSE IT’S WEIRD TO BE NAKED TOGETHER!"

You stared at him like he was speaking nonsense. "We are always naked together."

His soul left his body.

"...Get out."

"No."

"GET OUT!"

Mark was pretty sure nothing in his life had been more frustrating than trying to explain dating to you.

"It’s... you know, it’s when two people like each other and decide to be together."

You nodded, fascinated. "And then... kill?"

"...No. No killing."

You frowned, disappointed.

He sighed. "It’s about love."

You blinked. "What love?"

He opened his mouth, then froze.

Holy shit, how was he supposed to define love?

"Uh... it’s... it’s when you care about someone more than anyone else," he tried, scratching the back of his head. "You want them to be happy. You want to be with them. You feel safe with them."

You considered, tilting your head. "I feel that with you."

Mark’s breath caught.

You said it so casually. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was just... obvious.

"...You do?"

You nodded, then climbed into his lap, straddling him. "So... we date?"

His brain short-circuited.

"N-No! That’s not how—!" He groaned, face burning. "You don’t just sit on someone’s lap and say that!"

You pouted. "Why not?"

"Because—it’s—!"

He gave up. There was no winning with you.

Cecil already didn’t trust you.

And then you had to go and prove why.

Mark was at GDA headquarters when Cecil’s men dragged in a criminal. A guy who’d murdered at least thirty people.

You watched him. Quiet, blank, calculating.

Then, before anyone could stop you, you walked up to him, pressed a hand to his forehead—

And changed him.

Right in front of everyone.

Mark watched it happen. Watched the man’s entire personality shift, his eyes go blank for a second before filling with something new.

When you stepped back, he fell to his knees, sobbing.

"I... I’m sorry," the man whispered, voice shaking. "I don’t—I don’t want to hurt anyone—"

Mark stared at you, horrified. "What did you do?"

You blinked. "Fix."

Cecil looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"She rewired his fucking brain," he hissed.

Mark turned to you. "You—you can’t just do that!"

"Why?"

"BECAUSE IT’S NOT—" He stopped. Struggled. "Because it’s not right!"

You just tilted your head, like a child being scolded.

He groaned.

Mark didn’t realize when it happened.

Maybe it was the way you always curled up against him, completely at ease.

Maybe it was the way you protected him without hesitation, despite seeing him as weak.

Maybe it was the way you said his name—not like you were calling him, but like you were claiming him.

Or maybe it was the way you looked at him.

Like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.

And when he finally kissed you—really kissed you—you made the softest noise, melting into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

"You are... mine?" you whispered against his lips.

He exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I’m yours."

— MASTERLIST ☆

— NEXT ☆ Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[w1ll0wray]

TOO STUBBORN TO PURR ft. jinx x fem!reader

⊹₊⟡⋆ summary: suffocated by your parents trying to protect you 24/7–especially after a zaunite criminal had nearly exploded your older sister—you find yourself accidentally meeting a violent blue-furred kitty.

⊹₊⟡⋆ warnings: jinx x female reader, minors or men dni, smut, jinx!receiving head, upset stomach, bratty!jinx, reader is a kiramman, jinx is a kitty, fem!reader giving head, nsfw, pre shimmer jinx, she drank singed’s potion, they do it in her human form, reader is too sweet.

wc. 5.3k

𐙚 note | I’d really appreciate it if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you:)

“Miss— You must go back home! It’s pouring out here.” Your assistant yelled out, following after you in the rain. 

You didn’t listen, stomping in your heels down the shops, wanting some alone time. Your assistant didn’t get the hint, following your mother’s orders. 

Ugh. You needed some space for once!

Turning in your heel, you scoffed, “Leave me alone! I’ll go home when I—“ 

Meow

Pausing, your head snapped to the little animal trying to escape the rain’s water droplets, its body quivering and pushing against the shops wall. Sensing your assistant about to speak, you held up a hand, a shine flickering through your eyes at the adorable blue kitty. 

Rushing to the cat, you bent down, dirtying your dress, “Hello there..” You smiled, stretching your hand out gently. The cat didn’t seem pleased, a frown etched on its face. When it took a step away, you squealed at the cuteness and left no room for the animal to escape. 

You scooped the kitty into your arms, ignoring the angry sounds it let out. Patting on its wet fur, you pressed its face close to your chest, humming a soft tune to shush it up. The cat had stopped resisting after a few meows, its body melting into you. 

You took that as your cue to walk back home. Once you had arrived home, dodging your mother in the halls, the kitty had fallen asleep in your arms. You gently placed the little cat on your silk bed covers. It flinched and awoke immediately, meowing loudly. 

Yelping, you tried to shush it up, “Shh, okay, okay.” The kitty stopped, curiously watching you walk across the room. Your maid soon entered the room, helping you undress. It felt satisfying removing the corset that suffocated you the whole day. 

Stripping to only your underwear, a light blue lace set, you shooed your maid away. As the door closed, you put on your navy sheer satin dressing gown. Humming a tune, you made your way back to your bed, smiling at the blue kitty cautiously watching you. 

Settling on the bed and resting your back against the pillows, you stared at the kitty still seated beside your legs, “Hm… you must be hungry.” You didn’t own cat food. 

Would the kitty like some cooked salmon?

You also needed to eat your dinner. 

You decided on sneaking into the kitchen, still trying to avoid your mother. Spotting the cooked salmon, you reheated the fish, grabbing some chocolate-chip cookies and milk for yourself. Hurrying down the halls, you were so close to reaching your door—

“Sister, I was looking for you—“ 

You jumped, whirling around. At the sight of deep blue hair, you sighed. 

Your sister, Caitlyn, frowned at the dishes you held, “That’s an interesting combination, truly.” 

Trying to cover your panic, you giggled, “Ah, you know… that time of month.” 

Her brows raised, “Oh! But sister, you detest fish.” Suspicion was bound to creep in. 

You shook your head, “I dislike any fish other than salmon.” You raise a finger to hover her face, “You should know that by now.” She scrunched her nose, visibly thinking. 

She then nodded, “Right. Well, I’ll be going out tonight.” You grinned, aware of the blush slowly settling on her face. 

“Is it a date?” 

Caitlyn instantly shushed you, forcing your mouth closed, “Shush! I don’t want anyone finding out.” You nodded, bidding her goodbye as she walked away. 

Once she’s out of view, you run into your room, hoping the kitty hadn’t escaped somehow. Spotting the blue cat, you lifted the tiny plate with salmon, “I got you dinner!” 

The cat sat up, jumping off the bed and taking hesitant steps towards the plate on the floor. It took a small bite and then meowed. You frowned, crouching down beside it—her— now that you’ve noticed.

The cat looked up at you before tipping the plate over, resulting in the salmon messily staining everything. You gasped, “Hey! That’s expensive salmon!” 

She meowed and walked away. What an expressive cat, huh. Well, at least she was entertaining in some way.  After cleaning after the kitty, you failed to find anything else for her. So, you sat down on the couch in your room, dipping the cookie in the milk and eating it. 

However,  the blue cat suddenly leaped onto the couch, watching you bite into the soft cookie. Baffled, you waved the cookie over her furry face, “Oh, now you want some food?” 

The cat meowed. 

“Well, this isn’t good for you, kitty.” You continued eating the desserts, amused by the cat trying to reach for them. When the meowing wouldn’t stop, you groaned, carefully placing her on your lap, “Fine. But you’ll onlyhave one bite.” 

Once you lowered the cookie to her mouth,  she immediately took a bite, messily chewing. Without warning, she scratched your hand and hurried off. 

Gasping, you grasped your hand, “Hey!” Blood trickled down your palm. She even took the cookie with her! Gritting your teeth, you stomped over the bed, where the cat had settled on. 

The cookie crumbs went everywhere! How could you possibly sleep in the bed with all the chocolate smearing the silk? What’s worse was that the cat had already gobbled down the whole cookie. 

Sitting down on the only clean part of the bed, you stared at the kitty trying to lick off the leftover chocolate. She must be hungry…

You jolted up, walking over to the glass of milk on your coffee table. Milk isn’t that bad for cats, right? 

After bandaging the scratch she had carved into your skin, you rushed back to the kitty. You gently placed the cup of warm milk. In a flash, she licked the milk, splashing you with how desperate she was. She did look malnourished, that explained a lot. 

And so, that day, a new furry friendship has blossomed. Or so— you thought. 

Your mother had caught on on the fact that a cat had started living under her roof and accepted that the animal were to stay unless kept under your supervision. 

You, with the excitement, bought a bunch of items and things for the cat. You bought her a luxurious cat bed, where she’d sleep in your room. However, quickly, you realized how spoiled the kitty was. 

She was vicious when it came to anyone else except you. When you had friends over for tea or chitchats, she’d lay on your lap, scaring your guests with her scrutinizing looks. You’d brush off their fear of her potential jumping on them with calm reassurances.

“Do not worry, she’s a good girl and knows it’s not proper to scare off guests.” You would chime, reassuring your friends that the snarling cat on your lap was, in fact, a sweetheart.

Because she was!

Contrasting with how it was at the start, ‘Kitty’, you called her, became extremely clingy. Whenever you had to go out and run some errands, she’d grip onto your dress and meow uncontrollably. Once, she even ripped your gown on the day you had a date planned! 

You never wanted to risk bringing her out, her lethal behavior could attract some unwanted attention from the enforcers. Even if she was a cat, they might scare her with their weapons, you thought. 

Around your sister, she’d have the worst meltdowns. One time, during tea time and gossip time with Caitlyn, Kitty jumped on the table and made all the milk drop onto Cait’s skirt. She would walk off even when you scolded her. Another time, you were petting her blue fur, scratching under her neck, spoiling her with affection until Caitlyn barged in, frustration radiating off of her as she walked over. 

“You forgot to attend the event last night?” She wasn’t nicely asking but rather demanding you answer. You were stunned by her furious demeanor, hesitantly answering, “I wasn’t feeling well.” 

To be fair, the event was important for the Kiramman reputation in Piltover. Your mother was part of the council for heavens sake and she even scolded you last night when she arrived back from the event. It had been an event to launch a search party for a wanted criminal and your presence there was excruciatingly important. 

You didn’t go. And yes, you lied to Caitlyn. The real reason was because Kitty somehow ruined all your potential dresses with colored paint. You presumed she got the paint from the arts room and spilled the magenta pink and neon blue paint all over the dresses laid out. 

You were agitated at first— actually expecting to attend the event this time. But, once you sat down on your couch, contemplating what to do, you simply gave up and removed your makeup. 

Kitty watched everything you did, her fangs revealing themselves when you ordered the servants to throw the dresses away. Once the disastrous dresses were gone, you crawled into bed, forcing kitty into your arms as you fell asleep. 

“Don’t lie to me. A servant told me what happened.” She sent a glare over to kitty, who enjoyed all the kisses she was getting from you. 

You paused, reducing the petting aggression, “It’s not kitty’s fault. The paint happened to be there, Cait.” You reasoned. 

Caitlyn, however, was not there for it. She crossed her arms, “Do you know how society perceives you right now?” 

You rolled your eyes, feeling Kitty snuggle closer into your warm touch, “I couldn’t care less—“ 

“—They think you’re badly tainting our image.” She cut you off, leaving you dumbfounded. You froze up, brows knitting at their audacity, “What— just because I didn’t attend one event?” 

Caitlyn rubbed the space in between her eyes, “It’s wasn’t an ordinary event!” 

You picked Kitty off your lap, putting her down on the couch and immediately jumping out of your seat, “I don’t care if it was about some wanted undercity criminal!” 

Caitlyn gritted her teeth, “You should care because we, our family, are expected to show up at that type of event.” Your mouth opened to speak but Cait cuts you, 

“Especially if it’s for the safety of Piltover. You know, since our mother is actually part of the council.” 

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her way. She dodged, catching the next one you send flying her way, “Learn from this experience and attend tonight’s event.” 

“I don’t want to.” You crossed your arms, frowning. 

She narrowed her eyes, pointing a firm finger at you, “You will. Besides, you might enjoy the thrill of discussing plans for Jinx’s capture.” 

You scrunched your nose, trying to remember the last time you heard that name, “Isn’t Jinx that terrorist who nearly killed you?” 

Cait nodded.

Oh, right! She’s the one who exploded all of Caitlyn’s coworkers at that fire a month ago. Thankfully, she failed at catching Caitlyn. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of such a menace walking around Piltover’s streets.

You sighed in defeat, letting your arms fall 

to your sides, “Ugh— fine. I’ll only attend because she almost killed you.” 

Caitlyn hummed in delight, nodding before leaving your room. That afternoon, your mother had bought you a gorgeous dress for the event. It was a soft butter-colored silk dress adorned with tiny flower designs. As you were doing your makeup, sliding the deep red lipstick over your lips, Kitty jumped onto your vanity. 

Jolting back, you huffed, “Kitty! Be careful. I don’t want to stain my dress.”  You lectured, petting her before resuming your makeup. 

However, Kitty took steps on your product filled vanity, making a foundation bottle topple over, nearly soiling your dress. You instantly bolted out of your chair, shrieking at the liquid dripping on your carpet. 

“You— Stop that!” You scolded her, swatting her off the vanity. Was she doing this on purpose? Did cats have supernatural instincts? 

You didn’t want to risk getting your dress splotched with any source of liquid and resorted to getting ready in your sister’s room. Kitty’s meows could be heard from the other side of the wall. Caitlyn’s room was right beside yours. Your sister didn’t own that much makeup compared to you, she was more into her studies than taking care of her appearance. You, obviously, took extra care, just like your mother taught you to. 

Your heart hurt every time you listened to Kitty’s sounds. She probably thought you were mad at her… 

When you come back, you’ll bring extra dessert with you to make it up to her. 

And unexpectedly, you enjoyed the event. Everyone was shocked to find the jewel of the family back out in society. You put on a bright smile on your face and it surprisingly lasted the whole night. 

Discussing about the attacks and the plans revolving around Jinx’s future arrest made adrenaline rush into your veins. Not the satisfaction of arresting her— but you were astonished to hear about how young and talented in creating weapons she was. Sure— she almost blew up your sister— but what she achieved at such a young age as a Zaunite was shocking. You wished to see how she looked like— but only Caitlyn responded with a vague answer.

“Blue hair.” 

The way Jayce and Viktor explained how much of a dangerous mastermind she was, you slightly wondered what ran in that girl’s head. Anyone you spoke to, would give you new information about her. 

At the end of the night, the event had closed off with Jayce announcing the money someone could obtain if they caught Jinx. 

Wow. Everyone was cheering, yelling that justice will be served. Beside you, you could tell Caitlyn was slightly skeptical about the plan. She never answered when you asked if she was all right.

Walking up the steps, you groaned at the feeling of your heels stabbing your feet. Your father and Caitlyn helped you up the stairs, Caitlyn occasionally asking why you’d even dare wear heels. Your mother just led the way, unlocking the door and keeping it open for you all. 

After kissing your parents goodnight and waving Caitlyn off, you gave your heels to a servant, “Get them out of my sight.” You were about to dismiss them before pausing. 

Slowly turning, you urged them closer, “Is this a bad time to ask for cookies?” They shook their head, smiling. 

They were used to that request. 

Once they gave you the chocolate chip cookies with a bottle of milk, you made your way upstairs. Smiling, you silently turned the knob of your bedroom door, turning around to close the door behind you. 

And when you turned around, you beamed, “Kitty, I’ve got your favorite!” 

…

“What. the. fuck.” You cursed.

Your eyes widened. You stumbled back, nearly tripping over your own feet. 

Oh my god.

Someone was in your room. Someone was sleeping on your bed and it wasn’t Kitty. 

Taking quiet steps over to your bed, a shiver skated down your spine. This isn’t Kitty. 

It’s a person! 

Trying to identify the person in the dim lit room, you squinted. They were snoozing under your covers, wrapped in your blankets. You immediately noticed the long blue braids cascading over the pillows. 

Your breath hitched. 

As soon as the sound escaped your lips, the snoozing silhouette in front of you woke up, moving in a flash. 

The plate full of sweets and bottle of milk flew out of your hold, hands pinning your wrists on top of your head against the bed. 

Your gaping eyes clashed with narrowed violet-blue ones.  Your body trembled in fear once you realized who this person might be. 

“If it isn’t little miss Kiramman.” 

You squirmed against her firm hold, trying to free yourself out of this obscene position. She clicked her tongue as you continued your attempts of escape. 

“Stop moving, damn it!” She pushed you further into the mattress, prompting you to shriek at the stretch. 

You glanced at her naked body, “Who are you?” You hoped it wasn’t who you thought it was. 

She maliciously grinned, giggling down at you like the criminal she was, “Its not that hard to think, is it?” 

“Jinx.” You gasped, your legs instantly moving to push her off. 

She only giggled, staring at you with an unreadable expression, “Mhm, that’s me, but…I liked Kitty too.” The way she bit her lip said otherwise.

You flinched, “You’re not Kitty.” You whirled your head sideways, trying to spot the furry cat. Sadness flowed in your chest at her disappearance. 

Your mind was soon clouded with a million ways to escape. The best one being to yell out for help. Caitlyn.

“HEL—“ A palm roughly pressed itself against your mouth, interrupting your pleas.  

“Ah Ah Ah… I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” She wickedly smiled, her bare body still pressed against you. Speaking of her body, your eyes trailed down to the sight of her breasts and….stop.

You redirected your attention on her face, her braids reaching the mattress beside you. Having enough, you gritted your teeth, “What do you want from me?— And why are you naked?” 

Jinx tsked, “I preferred the way you acted before.” Her body shifted on you. 

You tensed up, “You’re not Kitty.” That only resulted in angering the blue-haired girl, “Well— how would Jinx, the big bad criminal, know that you dance in your lingerie every evening?” 

Scoffing, you nudged her back with your knee, “You stalked me, that’s how!” 

She didn’t like that. 

“Please don’t kill me.” You pleaded.

Her amused gaze transformed into one of pure agitation, her eyes narrowing down into slits, the silence adding to the dangerous tension in the room.

The way her lips tightened in that half-pout half-scowl made every inch of your body scream at you to run. 

You couldn’t.

One simple move and she’ll kill you with some item in your room. Upon noticing her mouth curling into a snarl, you gulped, your gaze darting to the cookies and bottle of milk on the floor. 

The plate didn’t shatter. That’s why no one was here. 

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here. Please.” 

Shit. Think of something else you idiot! 

Jinx’s hands flexed at her sides, like she was about to grab or tear you apart. That was your last straw. 

Just bloody do anything. 

You plastered a sweet smile on your lips, trying to mask any sign of fear, “I got your favorite!” You cooed, biting your lip when the blue-haired girl blinked, her manic energy dissipating. 

You continued, “The servants prepared them just for you.” You nodded at the plate of cookies on the floor, some crumbs on the carpet. Jinx’s hold on your wrists loosened, her lips parting, as if to say something, but instead, she only tilted her head to glance at the cookies. 

You noticed the way she leaned forward, her posture hunched over you, her brows slightly furrowed. 

“The warm milk will help with that upset stomach of yours.” 

If she truly was Kitty, you knew how swollen her abdomen would get if she had an upset stomach. But obviously, you couldn’t specifically tell with her human body, so you caught on to her facial expressions. 

Jinx let out a sharp, bitter laugh, “I don’t have an upset stomach.” Her voice had turned tight, like it physically hurt her to speak. 

She’s stubborn. 

However, you felt her hands completely loosen their hold on your wrists. Immediately, your hands found themselves on her hips, “Let me take care of you.” You didn’t wait for her to respond, automatically switching your positions. 

The moment you straddled her, Jinx tensed up, “W—What are you…” 

You get off of her, rapidly grabbing the warm milk from the floor and crawling back up the bed. Jinx had a scowl on her face, skeptical eyes inspecting you open the lid. 

Trailing your gaze from the milk to the still very naked Jinx, you hummed, “I’ll get you some clothes. Here, drink this.” You handed her the warm drink. Jinx hesitantly took it, plopping it on the bedside table as you dug through your wardrobe. 

She was puzzled, brows furrowed in disbelief. You could practically sense her confusion as you pulled out some undergarments and a matching pair of silk pyjamas for her. This’ll do.

Walking back to the bed, where she laid, sitting up with her elbows, you showed her the set. Jinx snorted, but quickly frowned when you approached her, her eyes locked onto yours. “Why would you wanna take care of me?”

You stared down at her, tightening your hold on the clothes, “Sure, I don’t appreciate you nearly blowing up my sister to pieces,” You dropped the clothes on the bed, your hand wrapping around Jinx’s ankle. 

You yanked, pulling her down the bed until she hit the edge. Jinx let out a startled grunt. She lifted her head, about to fire off a remark, but you closed the space first, lowering yours to meet her gaze. 

Her eyes widened.

“But hey, there’s quite a thrill knowing Piltover’s most wanted has been…clinging to me.” 

Jinx stiffened, lost for words, before stuttering out a small, “I..I’m not— I wasn’t clinging—“ 

She sucked in a sharp breath when you slightly spread her legs. For a split second, you glanced at her pussy, the light coming from outside highlighting the contours of her folds. 

You snapped out of your trance, grabbing the underwear and helping her put them on. Once her hips lifted, you raised the lingerie, making sure it fit right. 

It kind of did.

Helping her with the pyjamas, you didn’t bother giving her a bra since hers were much smaller. You couldn’t deny the pit of warmth coiling in your stomach at the thought of her body. 

She nearly killed Caitlyn, you baboon!

Jinx sat up, her brows knitting together as you perched on the bed, “You serious?” she asked, voice laced with skepticism. 

You frowned, “I’m serious about what?” 

The blue-haired girl groaned, rolling in the bed beside you, as if she wasn’t laying next to a person who could fuck up her whole plan of staying low.

“Do you mean it?” She muttered, her body now faced sideways towards you, “You wouldn’t—“ Jinx interrupted herself with a whimper, wrapping a tight arm around her tummy. 

You got out of your lied down position, arm stretching out to place itself on her hand, “Here, let me.” 

Jinx eyed you suspiciously, uncertainty flickering in her gaze. However, the next jolt of pain to shoot from her stomach resulted in her gritting her teeth to avoid crying out. You noticed, clicking your tongue disapprovingly, “Stop being a stubborn brat.” 

You slapped her hand, hoping for her to move it— but of course, she didn’t. Jinx gripped her stomach, scowling, “Ugh. Stupid cold. Stupid stomach. This is dumb.” 

Rolling your eyes, you still tried to remove her hands, “Then let me help!” You whisper-yelled, starting to get worried about her condition. Jinx huffed, shaking her head, “I’m not weak!” She kicked a leg up in the air dramatically. 

You crossed your arms, watching her fidget with the silky fabric of the pyjamas. She slumped on her back, pale knees raised, feet pressing into the bed.

“Fine, I’m going to sleep.” You hoped she’d get the message that you were upset, but she didn’t utter a word. You tucked yourself beneath the covers, letting sleep finally creep in. 

“Nngh..-!” 

Your eyes snapped open from the groan you just heard. Rolling to the other side, your eyes widened at the sight of Jinx clutching her stomach, her whole body curled. 

Sitting back up, you glanced at the view outside the window, the only light coming from the moon still high up in the sky. 

“Ugh… stupid stomach..”

Your eyes darted to the suffering girl beside you, her face scrunched up. Letting your fingers ghost over her skin, you gently shook her shoulder. 

She woke up startled—but relaxed once she spotted you. Staring at her stomach, you pressed a warm hand on her lower tummy, “Have you eaten?”

Jinx pouted, ��Yes, I did!” She forced out, wincing again. 

Humming, you rubbed the soft skin of her stomach, the silk pjs riding up to expose more flesh, “Then..what’s the matter?” 

Her lips parted, leaning into your touch, her head still resting on the pillow. Once you quirked a brow up, she responded with a low, “I got cold.” 

“You got cold?” 

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

You raised your hands up in surrender, resisting the urge to smile at her pout. She yanked your hand back down to her stomach, muffling a whimper with her other hand. As you studied her, guilt soared through your chest. 

What could you do to help?

If this was a post-chill stomach ache, then what could you do to stop the pain?

An idea popped up, “Would you like a heating pad?” 

“No!” She cried out, shifting position but keeping your hand on her belly. Sighing in defeat, you leaned your head to get closer to her, “Well, what do you want?” 

Jinx swallowed, her throat bobbing. There’s been a shift in the air— something you couldn’t deny. Her gaze doesn’t waver, staying locked on you as you bent down even closer. Her lips twitched, but she doesn’t speak until your hum forced her over the edge, “You’re….warm.” 

A smile engraved its way up to your lips at her unusual bashful behavior. When she shifted under you, you cracked. 

Grabbing hold of her wrists, you pinned them on opposite sides of her head,  doe-eyes looking up at you with too much vulnerability. 

“You looking up at me like that drives me insane.” Your voice dropped to a husky whisper, grip on her wrists tightening. You felt the way her pulse fluttered against your palm. 

Jinx squirmed and it only made things worse. With a small nudge coming from her knee, your eyes narrowed, “I won’t know unless you tell me, Jinx.” 

Her body arched slightly, “Ugh, you, obviously!” She grumbled, wrists twitching under your grasp. 

You pretended to be confused, “Me? What of me?” 

Jinx sneered, the sharpness in her eyes making it clear she was two seconds away from strangling you, “You’re pissing me off!” She hissed, her foot trying to push you off. 

You instantly caught her ankle, a sickly-sweet smile coating your lips, “Ah…now I understand,” 

She was still agitated, that signature scowl plastered on her features, “Tch. I shouldnt have said—“ 

The words died in her throat the second you pushed her legs apart.

Her entire body stiffened, her scowl flickering—then vanishing completely. For a split second, she just froze, blue eyes blown wide. Giggling at her stunned expression, you started pulling down her pyjama bottoms, “Oh, what? You’re telling me you expected something else?” 

Jinx exhaled a nervous breath once you tugged off her undergarments. 

“I said I’d take care of you, did I not?” You spread her tone legs apart, exposing her glistening pussy. She immediately tried to seal them back— but you yanked rougher. 

Humming a satisfied noise, you dipped down, lacing your arms under her muscular thighs, “Now lay back and let me calm that upset stomach of yours.” Jinx sat up on her elbows, lips parted as you left kisses up her inner-thighs. 

Seeing her defy your commands, you tsked and threw her legs over your shoulders, forcing her to lie down and stare up at the ceiling. 

With that, your lips planted a kiss on her pussy. Jinx twitched, hands instantly landing on your hair. Her long nails scratched your scalp as you sucked her clit, letting your tongue slide over her folds.

“Shit—“ Jinx gasped, her thighs tightly clasped around your head. Humming against her pussy, your tongue moved in a circular motion, causing her eyes to roll back. She tasted divine— but you tried to ignore your desires and focused on her. She needed warmth; and that’s what you were giving her. 

She needed that release in order for it to work. Your pointer finger found its way on her sensitive clit, pressing down, rubbing in torturous speed. Her back arched off the mattress, lips parting to let out one particularly loud whine. 

Caitlyn surely heard that. 

Her breath hitched, legs shaking as her release crept closer. Head shaking to the side restlessly, Jinx’s hair strands escaped her braids, sticking to her forehead or messily covering the pillow. Wrapping your lips around her center, you peered up at the blue-haired girl trembling in bliss. 

Her cheeks were tinged with a deep crimson, eyes squeezed shut and droplets of sweat trickling down her upper body. 

She looked so beautiful. 

“I— I c…can’t!—“ She whimpered, her nails leaving crescent shaped moon’s on your upper back. She held on for dear life— sobs pouring out of her as she reached the pinnacle of ecstasy. 

Finally, she threw her head back, a shuddering, breathless cry spilling from her mouth. 

Rubbing the soft skin of her thighs, you calmed her down, slowly licking her arousal. She was trembling like crazy, even after a few minutes of silence, the high of an orgasm still lingering. 

Once her breathing had resumed its normal pace, you lifted your head from in between her legs, “All better?” Your palm rubbed on her lower tummy, grinning when she whimpered from your touch. 

She looked so vulnerable. 

You loved seeing her this way. The notorious criminal of Piltover had winded up in a Kiramman’s bed— weak under your touch. It gave you an ego boost. 

The way she was staring up at you, dazed and her brain completely fucked out, made your mind drift to different intimate things you could do to her. 

Jinx nodded, her glassy eyes locking onto you, “Yes.. I’m good.” Her voice was hoarse from the exertion. 

You giggled, letting her legs rest on the mattress, “You stubborn brat.” 

**********

Waking up the next morning, you found the space beside you empty. At first, you thought Jinx had actually dipped— but the little note with a messy handwriting on your bedside table said otherwise.

𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯

𝘱𝘴. 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦!

~ 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘺𝘤𝘢𝘵 ;)

Arriving to breakfast, you instantly picked up on the awkward atmosphere roaming around the dining room as you settled. 

Your mother avoided your eye, your father had a stupid grin on his face and Caitlyn..well.. she was definitely in a horrid mood. 

As a servant finished drizzling some honey on your waffles, Caitlyn pounced, “So, [name], I hope you slept well.” 

You paused, lifting your gaze from your plate, “I slept wonderfully, thanks.” 

Caitlyn’s utensil clattered on the table, her brows knitting together, “I sure hope so—”

Your father cleared his throat. You all darted your attention to him. He only shrugged his shoulders, “Cait, it has been a calm morning so far—”

Caitlyn slammed her hands on the table, eliciting an audible gasp from your mother, “Sleep is the most important part of the day and,” 

Your older sister pointed an accusing finger towards you, “She ruined it!” 

Your father nervously chuckled, shooting you a glance. Noticing his signal, you gently put down your fork, “Cait, I don’t understand—”

She ran a frustrating hand through her hair, “I have no idea how you sneaked someone in your bed last night but I had to endure all that noise.” 

You felt heat rush to your cheeks once you realized what she meant. 

Goddamn it, Jinx! 

Could she not have been any louder? 

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” 

Just speaking about the matter was embarrassing. The weight of your mother’s gaze was terrifying. You glanced at her for a split second before regretting it.

She clasped her hands together, eyeing you, “Dear, is she at least a successful young lady?

Yes, mother— she’s successful when it comes to blowing people up and causing havoc! 

creds to the dividers. if there’s mistakes, sorry

thank you sm for reading and sorry for disappearing loll my exams r killing me!😪 reblogs, requests and comments are appreciated :)

Idk if I’ll make a part 2 of this butttt other oneshots coming soon📣

[faint-taste-of-almonds]

I like the idea of there being something a little sharper about Zaunites.

Jayce often turns around to find Viktor much closer than he had thought, even being able to hear the tapping of his cane. During late nights in the lab, his amber eyes burn violently in the blue glow of the hexgems. On the rare occasion he blinks, Jayce can swear they appear reflective, like a cat’s. Just tricks of the light and the mind.

Mel’s skin rises the first time Jayce brings Viktor to a Council meeting. They’ve met before, of course, but there’s something immovable in his grip when she shakes his hand, touching him for the first time. Viktor smiles ingenuinely, almost mockingly, at something Salo says, and his teeth are a tad sharp. Mel has grown up around war, around danger, but it had always come for her head on. In Piltover, it came in the form of ruining reputations or profits. She wonders how thoroughly Viktor could ruin someone before they even realized he was there. She dreams of wolves and foxes that night, and from a tree, the ember-bright eyes of a lynx watches, waiting for the other predators to tear each other apart.

Vi likes to climb. Caitlyn knows this, though she supposes she didn’t really think about it. It’s almost beautiful to watch, really — the agile switches, the power thrumming beneath Vi’s skin like she might burst from it. Vi maneuvers through the rooftops of Zaun as easily as breathing. Sometimes, Caitlyn’s own breath will catch when the jump looks too far, too much, then Vi’s hand will catch the ledge without fail and she can huff a laugh. She ignores how many distances Vi has crossed that shouldn’t be crossable. Like a cat, a Zaunite will always land on their feet.

Ekko seems to move quite strangely, Heimerdinger thinks. Though, he’s never truly paid close attention to human movements, the boy seems to traverse without the normal effect of gravity, as if he simply never dismounted his hoverboard. It was far too smooth, far too even — it took a considerable time for Heimerdinger to put his finger on it. As they discover the sickness of the tree, the pattern changes. Ekko glitches sometimes, staying in one place for too long before seemingly being sling-shot through space, appearing somewhere else without having gotten there. A mystery for later, he supposes.

Silco feels like a condensation of all Zaun’s noxious gases, perhaps with a vein of Shimmer added for realism. Marcus feels like his lungs are clouding just from being around him, getting the urge to cough out the pollution. Silco is the grimy cracks, the perpetually-wet streets, the sunken ribs and track marks of every body slumped on every street. His voice curls around Marcus like a snake, squeezing tighter and tighter until the fear and the threats are the only things left in his brain. Yet, Silco sits calmly, always far too still. Sometimes his scar appears to splinter in front of Marcus’s eyes. When he tucks his daughter in a night, he wonders about what kind of monster might slip, unheard, through the cracks of her window.

There’s always been Something in the air in Zaun. The water too. Really, can one be surprised at the consequences?

[least-transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[neoarchipelago]

AU where Price finds a cat one day and brings it home. Turns out it's a witch!reader turned into a cat. She just pretends to be a cat because, well this is nice, no bills, it's warm, enough his big bear of a man had decided to feed you COOKED MEALS. And you're like, meh this is nice.

You sleep by his head during the night and purr against him when he has nightmares. One night you wake up to him having a particularly rough one and you decided to turn back into a human form, your naked body cuddling him closer. He wakes but in the haze of his dream doesn't seem to snap. After all, who's this person with his pretty cat's eyes? Who purrs and smells exactly like his little kitty.

In the morning he turns back to his little ball of fur and jokes about 'the weirdest dream he had last night'.

But he starts having other kinds of dreams... Where grunts and moans mean something different. He wakes up every morning and complains about that person he dreamt off and that he's having wet dreams about.

One night he's dreaming exactly of that and you turn back to human. Slip under the covers and grab his hard cock underneath the sheets. He wakes up with a growl as you stroke him. No words are spoken as you ride him, his hands all over your body as you both end up cumming together, him deep inside and you with the loudest moan ever.

He's a mess in the morning and you play it off as the nice kitty. After all, he's such a nice man to you. And you might be a bit naughty too.

It turns into a habit now, and he calls you his succubus, oblivious of who you truly are. And it gets more heated. You stay longer... You talk and cuddle but always leave before morning.

He's clueless, absolutely clueless. Until one day he's home too early. And you're in the shower. All naked and soapy. And when the curtain is nulled back roughly... You can't help but turn into a cat.

Poll right here for part 2?

[gothsoyl]

"my little kitten" (18+) agatha harkness x reader word count: 1208 summary: you're her familiar. and what good familiars do when their mistress is tired? warnings: cursing, reader is giving, dom!agatha note: no thoughts

you've been agatha's familiar for as long as you can remember. you had doubts whether you were even there before agatha summoned you. you just appeared in front of her in the form of a black cat and that's how all your memories began.

you followed her closely, listened attentively to her sarcastic monologues and quietly watched her steal powers from witches. you barely moved your tail when she stepped over lifeless bodies and said something to them if they could understand her. it was always such a strange phrase that if someone else had said it, it would’ve looked as awkward as possible. but agatha always managed to broadcast without any awkwardness, and it didn't matter whether she was serious or did it just for fun. 

“how exhausting it all is,” she sits down in an armchair and closes her eyes, a heavy sigh escapes her lips, which sounded so theatrical, “it's hard to be the greatest witch, isn't it?”

you’re silent – you sit on the floor in front of her and only tilt your head slightly to the side, carefully watching her actions. she looks tired today, even more than usual, and the sarcasm that leaves her mouth doesn’t seem familiar.

“this silence annoys me,” she whispers softly and looks around the room as if hoping to hear at least someone's voice, but nothing in response, as always, “come here.”

you lower your gaze and twitch your ear, as if you're thinking about something, but it all stays in your mind. you get up from your seat and take a step towards her – the next moment she clicks her fingers loudly, once again turning you into a human being.

you stop and already want to reach for the blanket on the couch to cover your sudden nakedness, but she shakes her head, beckoning you to her.

“I'm tired,” she says with a small grin and you immediately understand what she's getting at. her voice is firm, leaving no room for questions “you'll get dressed later.”

“as you wish, my witch,” you nod, the corners of your lips lift slightly. you could never refuse her, and you didn't want to. what's the point if everything was fine with you?

you approach her slowly and kneels in front of her. agatha spreads her legs automatically, giving you more space and you involuntarily lick your lower lip under her attentive gaze. your hands slide up her waist to the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning slowly, as if testing her patience, to which she just shakes her head.

“teaser,” she whispers when you take off her shirt. your lips immediately find her collarbone, gently kissing and going down to her bra, which she helps you take off so that you don't get too distracted from your direct duties.

the bra falls to the floor and you pull away from her hot skin for a couple of seconds, examining her plump breasts, as if for the first time. and who wouldn't want to prolong such a pleasure? 

you lick your lips again and take her nipple in your mouth, greedily sucking and nibbling. agatha's soft sighs reach your ears that make your own stomach flips in warmth. the witch immediately sinks to the back of the chair and tilts her head back. you know she's pleased. you had a long time to understand how to work so that your mistress can relax.

you pull away again just to do the same with her other breast – you want to feel her nipple harden under your tongue, you want to feel her chest rise while you work so hard.

it's already difficult for you to delay pleasure and act slowly. your hands go under her skirt and you feel the waistband of her panties, immediately pulling them down. agatha spreads her legs even wider and moans faintly when your fingers touch her clit.

“you're wet,” you notice with a grin and shove your fingers between her folds, feeling how they pass through her crotch right to her entrance without any problems, “are you so tired, mistress?”

“one more word and you'll become a cat,” she grumbles, but it's enough for you to bite your tongue and continue to take her nipple in your mouth. 

the last thing you wanted was to watch from the sidelines as agatha relaxes herself on her own. It was annoying, infuriating, and made you feel unnecessary. but agatha needed you, didn't she?

you frown a little at her threat – you want to do something, you want to show her that you’re brave enough to do something she wouldn’t like, but you’re not. you slowly push your finger inside of her, feeling her walls envelop it, and her body tenses for a moment, just to relax finally. you swallow and carefully begin to move inside her, pushing further and deeper, your lips moving to her neck, leaving barely noticeable hickeys. you know she'll be mad at you later, but right now all you want to do is feel like she's really yours.

agatha breathes heavily, her hand strokes your back roughly and she whispers words of praise to you, forcing you to add another finger, and the rhythm becomes faster. you can feel her back arching and she instinctively moves her hips towards you.

“you feel so good, mistress”, you feel so needy of her as you whisper it, but you can’t hold back even after she threatens you. 

“be quite for me,” she groans and grabs your chin with her free hand and pulls you closer. she kisses you greedily, scratching your lips with her teeth, and her tongue intertwines with yours. you don't even notice how you start moaning into her lips, as if her long fingers are stretching you now, and not the other way around.

she abruptly pushes you away from her and nods down, her cheeks are red, and her breath is knocked out when she whispers “down", and you don't ask questions. you nod intensely, lower yourself down, leaving ragged kisses on her stomach when you drastically and even nervously lift her skirt even higher.

a strangled moan escapes from her lips when you finally bury yourself in her crotch, your tongue quickly caresses her clit and you feel her salty juice remaining on your chin. 

“bitch,” she hisses through her teeth and you start to work faster with your tongue, feeling her body begin to tremble. she grabs you by the hair with force and pulls you closer to her, “don’t you dare to stop…”

and then you feel how she starts to tremble, and her nails scratch your scalp, forcing you to squint in pain. a hoarse moan fills the room as she bites her lip and you feel like you get dizzy, but it feels so good to the point where you can’t stop. she's panting heavily while you keep kissing her clit, your hands caress her thighs, scratching her pale skin slightly.

“my little kitten...” she finally says with some strange warmth and pats you on the head. you slowly pull away from her, her sly gaze is still fixed on you and she casually wipes your chin from her sticky juice, “what would I do without you, huh?”

[for-those-who-wait]

Werewolf Hunter is so little, just a lil wet guy. Is there a reason for his size?

I love that he just looks like a lil dog, I feel others would be a bit surprised (Luz and Camila mainly) since this isn’t how werewolves typically look in media.

He is absolutely sopping wet. The wettest of tiny cat-dogs

Hunter's wolf form is pretty small due to malnourishment throughout childhood (and to a lesser extent, being in a cage for essentially all of the time spent in that form). His diet should consist of a lot of protein via meat, but Belos restricted his access to it since allowing Hunter to eat a proper and healthy diet was, in his opinion, facilitating beastly behaviors and tendencies. I also HC that Hunter has a pretty sensitive stomach anyway since he's the Grimwalker of a human, so he just doesn't eat well for a lot of his life (until Camila gets a hold of him and is like oh no baby your coat is so thin and dull and your nails are breaking you need some protein)

Hunter doesn't actually know what he looks like until TTT. He hears stories from Belos about how dangerous werewolves are and he does notice what few features of himself that he dares to look at (but for the most part he avoids looking at himself). He and Luz see a couple portraits of shifted Golden Guards while in Belos' mindscape, so they absolutely expect Hunter to look like the monsters they see in the portraits (which aren't accurate to how they actually appeared; they're what Belos' interpretations are of those occurrences). Hunter sees the portraits as assurance that he's a monster. Luz sees them as another "So what? You're still Hunter and also Belos is lame and stupid, you're not a monster no matter what he says"

Luz does expect him to be full-size like the portraits and has to do a doubletake when she sees a tiny dog curled up behind the toilet. I think Luz is the type of person to scour mythical creatures' Wikipedia pages, so I think she'd be familiar with the idea that werewolves could either be just wolf or more anthropomorphic, so I don't think she'd be as surprised on that front. Camila probably would be confused at first haha. I also had the idea that werewolves went extinct so long ago that most Boiling Isles residents assume they're just creatures of legend, similar to Grimwalkers. So the others would also be surprised haha

Thank you for the ask, sorry for the ramble!

Werewolf AU Masterpost

[triptychgardener]

What does becoming a furry in Homestuck mean? (In reference to your recent Nepeta post)

Okay so the thing is the way that Homestuck treats furries is honestly kind of equivalent to how it treats queerness. As in, Homestuck initially treats it like a joke or a thing to mostly sneer at. Homestuck was very much part of the wave of disaffected ironic assholes of the Newgrounds and Something Awful type, especially to start with, and that sort of relied on shitting on demographics that were seen as weird and permissible to find cringe and make fun of.

Jade comes onto the scene, and a lot of people sort of groan at her whole furry shtick. Jade is largely, however, just a pretty sincere character, and even though she feels some embarassment over the idea of BEING a furry (i.e. her distaste for the idea of actually wearing a fursuit) she nonetheless begins the admirable refrain of combining the finest qualities of humanity with the elegance and nobility of the animal kingdom.

Her earnest affection for all things anthropomorphic sets up more than just her excellent taste. And as much as she is a bit of a pattern-breaker, one pattern she doesn't break is that of having a Signature Animal.

The four beta kids have a bunch of different things associated with them: the four elements, four items, four musical instruments. But the animals are practically integral to who they are as people and characters.

John's attachment to the bunny is obvious, and helps to spur on one of the most emotional scenes in the comic. (For him. Him specifically.)

It's also something deeply precious to him, as it's a gift from every single one of his friends in a very roundabout fashion!

For Rose, Jaspers is half the reason she decided to play the game in the first place. She missed her dead cat so dearly she was willing to play a game that might end the world for it.

(Pictured above, Rose lying about her feelings, water is wet.)

Dave seems to at least feel some affection for crows, or at least shame when he kills them.

And his fusing to become Davesprite is what allows him to survive as a "copy" of the original Dave. Once again, Dave's disaffected irony giving way to the necessity of becoming a furry to save the world.

And for Jade, of course, Bec.

And it's notable that, by the end of the comic, at least THREE of our main beta kids have merged with their animals, and, in a way, become the best versions of themselves.

Jade obviously gets to achieve her dream of becoming a furry, and in doing so gaining power and agency that she was always denied due to her position in the story.

Davepeta, as I stated in a previous post, is the true Final Form of Dave, the pawn that made it to the end of the board, the only surviving character from Homestuck's "original" timeline, and is truly happy with themselves.

And Jasprose appears to have fully hurled herself through the walls Rose put up around herself to protect her image, and thus absolutely mortifies Rose. She just seems to be having a great time.

Homestuck evolved from a story that was deeply cynical and mean-spirited about furrydom, to a story where three of our four starting protagonists, in their truest most powerful forms, combine the qualities of man and beast to achieve self-actualization. And to bring this back around to queerness, these three characters also happen to be canonically queer. So there's that.

This isn't even to get into how this might relate to Troll Lusii and the concept of "growing up" to be more like one's parent on a planet raised by animals, but that's for another day.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

cw- wlw, vamp!gf, somno, non/dubcon, fingering, pervy lesbian vampire + equally pervy human gf (fav)

Imagine your vamp!gf stalking into your room in the middle of the night, drunk of her latest kill.

Her vision hazed with bloodlust. She looks upon you, lying on your stomach, leg propped up on a pillow between your legs; sleeping peacefully.

You looked ravishing. Her hands grasp at your curves that were concealed by a thin sheet, it clings to your body; desire pulsating through her.

She’s quick to rip the blanket off showing your luscious body that adored a small slip dress that barely covered your ass, tits spilling out of the top. It’s like you were teasing her.

Her lip snarls, grabbing your breast, groaning at the soft flesh spilling between her fingers as she kneads the fatty flesh. Her hips grind on the back of your thigh, pleasure shooting up her core at your innocent sleeping form not knowing how she was defiling you. Then she heard you moan, your eyes moving behind closed lids. She rubbed your head cooing at you, whispering in your ear in an ancient, compelling voice; “Sleep.” Then she knew you wouldn’t wake up, she needed you like this.

Her free hand finds its way to your bottom, ripping the silk dress up exposing your bare ass. She lets out a low, raspy breath, a vicious smirk dawning her face, her fangs shining in the moonlight that dipped in and out of your window.

She lets go of your breast grabbing both of your asscheeks, spreading them. She couldn’t help the whimper she let out seeing your pretty little holes. Your pussy weeped with arousal, your puckered hole pulsated with need.

She was salivating, letting the spit gather on her tongue and opening her mouth the spit traveling down your waiting holes.

She let your ass go, hiking her dress up she rips her panties off, putting them under your pillow. Fixing herself over the back of your thigh grinding her wet cunt against your leg, like a cat in heat.

Her long, cold fingers find your wet, waiting pussy plunging into your gushing hole; your walls squeezed her fingers devilishly. She moaned loudly as she fucked your cunt with her fingers, the same rhythm she humped your thigh too. ‘’Fucking little pussy was made for me.’’ She whispers to your sleeping body. Her thumb attaches to your clit.

If you were awake right now she already know you’d be mewling for her to fuck you, grasping at her mean hands that toyed with you.

‘’Gonna fuck you so good when you wake up, little pet.’’

She groans, finally feeling your velvet walls flutter around her slender fingers. She whines, slipping her fingers out of you. Bringing her fingers to her nostrils inhaling your scent like a hound dog, her whines turn into moans as her hips go wild. Moans turns into gargled groans as she sucks her own fingers like a mad man. Then, it happens.

Then she looks out the window, still on top of your sleeping figure. She knows the sun is going to come up any minute now and she wishes she could stay with you, basket in the morning bliss and not leave the bed until your legs are shaking with pleasure. But it’s useless to dream, well except the one where she's feeding you her blood. Finally sharing the dark gift, to be her immoral companion. Now, that’s a dream— no, a future, she can entertain.

When she leaves you instantly wake up, the all too familiar aftershocks of an orgasm making you delirious. Arms moving out from under your pillow just to find something shoved under there. Pulling the object out you see it’s a pair of torn lacy black underwear. Then you smile connecting the dots instantly holding the panties to your chest. You rub your thighs together thinking about how you're going to confront her tonight.

[chowadoe]

so more on that role reversal au...

Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik

some more expanded thoughts below ^_^

SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT

Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.

he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)

the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.

Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..

If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?

what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.

Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.

au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil

when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)

SONIC - ACCOMPLICE

Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)

Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.

He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)

and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!

his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...

has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.

Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^

Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?) 

the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Imprinting on Bella Swan

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

It's hoa hoa hoa hoa hoaaa season y'all they might feel ooc i havent seen the movies in forever

~~~

With the leaves changing and the weather resuming its almost never-ending chill, Bella hoped a new season marked a fresh beginning. Her first year in Forks proved to be far from what she'd expected when her father picked her up from the airport to haul her back to her old childhood home. She hardly expected much from the quiet, peaceful town but being introduced to the Cullens and then learning of a whole secret world hidden away from the eyes and minds of humans had promptly turned her world upside down. 

Vampires and shapeshifters roamed the Earth, some killing and others protecting mankind. She never thought her friendship with the odd boy in science class would lead to her discovering beautiful creatures that glimmered in sunlight and drank blood nor that it would lead to her old friend becoming the enemy of the coven by shifting into a gorgeous yet intimidating wolf. Of course, the thing that'd caught her off guard the most hadn't been blood-sucking immortals or oversized dogs... but the fact she had a soulmate.

A soulmate who was as grumpy and aloof as his twin sister. 

"Bella! You came!" 

She'd never admit it aloud, least of all to Edward, but a warm feeling always rushed through her when she visited the reservation and was greeted joyfully by the boys. Jared shot off the porch, his bare feet leaving imprints on the ground before his arms picked her up and brought her to his chest. She released a breathless chuckle and stumbled slightly when her feet returned to the ground only to be lifted once more with Seth and Embry's greetings. 

"I wouldn't want to miss the bonfire." She chuckled, a thankful smile sent Seth's way when he steadied her. She caught Emily lingering in the doorway and raised a meek hand to wave. "I hear your brother's back in town, Seth." 

As expected, Seth's sweet brown eyes lit up. "Yeah! He and Leah should actually be-" He cut himself off for a moment to scan the woods surrounding the small wooden house Emily and Sam called home. His concreated features softened and he raised his hand to point toward the figures emerging from the treeline.

Despite how much the Cullens fussed, Bella thought the wolves were as equally as majestic as them. She smiled immediately at the familiar sight of Jacob's reddish-brown fur as the three wolves trotted across the field toward them. Jacob's pace quickened and once close enough, he dipped his head and gently pressed it against her stomach. She ran her fingers through his soft yet damp fur in greeting, still taken aback by the sheer size of him and his packmates. 

"Hey, Leah," Bella greeted softly, raising her attention to the woman and earning a grunt in response. Leah was just as beautiful as the others, perhaps more with the mixtures of silver, dark gray, and hints of brown strung along her coat. The shifter gave a quiet huff, and even an eye roll, before she began turning away to shift in the privacy of the woods. 

"This is my brother, Bella. (Y/N), this is Bella Swan, the coolest girl in town." 

Chuckling bashfully, Bella retracted her hand from Jacob's fur and rubbed the wetness off on her jeans before she stepped to the side to peer around Jacob's form and take in the last wolf. He reminded her of a mixture of Leah and Seth with the clash of brown and silver fur and (E/C) eyes that seemed almost scrutinizing until the two of them locked eyes. Her lips parted to greet him but the words died in her throat when she noticed him tense and go completely rigid.

With a frightening snarl that sent a jolt up her spine and made her flinch back, Jacob ripped his head away from her to face the older boy with bared teeth and the fur along his back rising like that of an angry cat. Jared's arms circled Bella, pulling her back and behind them despite the amused grin spreading out across his face. Bella flinched again and gasped when Jacob lunged forward toward (Y/N), their bodies tangling and rolling down the grassy field in a blur of fur and snapping jaws. Leah raced after them swiftly, her body slamming into Jacob's to peel him off her twin and thus turning Jacob's abrupt anger onto her.

"Come inside, Bella. Let the boys handle this." Emily called out to her gently, watching her stumble toward the house and carefully taking her hand with a comforting squeeze. "Sam will take care of them, alright? I made some muffins for you but I'm afraid Jared already took a bite out of one."

"W-What- I- Is (Y/N) okay?" Bella stuttered out, feeling Emily's arm wrap around her shoulder and lead her toward the dining table where the basket of freshly baked muffins waited to be plucked. She took one into her hand and found herself unable to stop from turning toward the window to watch as Sam's bulky black-furred form shoved itself between the three. "What happened? Everything was fine."

"Imprinting happened," Paul laughed as he stepped into the house, snatching the muffin Embry reached for and flashing him a smirk. "Jake's girl got snatched right from under his nose." 

"What are you talking about?" Bella's head snapped toward the short-fused man, her brows knitting tightly together and gaze flickering between the rest of the pack as they piled into the house. 

With a sympathetic smile, Seth shrugged. "I guess you're my new sister-in-law, Bella."

"He won't talk to me, Jake." 

"I know," Jake murmured glumly as he stuck a marshmallow at the end of his stick, the cool breeze tussling his hair but barely phasing him despite the cold nipping insistently at her cheeks. "It's messing with him but he's as stubborn as Leah. He wants to be around you, he can't help it, and it bothers him. (Y/N)'s never been the type to give up control. It took a year for him to even join the pack and follow Sam's orders." 

Bella tilted her head further down the beach where (Y/N) sat on the cold sand away from them. She found him already staring at her but when she lifted her hand to wave, he turned his attention back to the rolling waves. "What's going to happen to him? Can.. he die from ignoring me?" The quiet snort from Jake made her swat at his arm. "I'm serious, Jake!"

"I know, I know, I..." Jake released a heavy sigh, the light of the fire reflecting in his brown eyes. He hovered his stick over the flickering flames, checking on the marshmallow as they waited for it to cook. "It's not good for him to ignore it but it won't kill him. He's making himself uncomfortable."

"I'm making him uncomfortable. I told you it was a bad idea-"

"Bella, you're his soulmate. You'll never make him uncomfortable and that's what's bothering him. Take this to him and just.. talk to him." Jake blew away the flame from the toasted marshmallow and offered her the stick, giving her an encouraging nod despite the way his lips tugged into a small frown. "Try your best.. or else Leah will rip your head off." 

Bella gave a small huff. "I don't think her brothers would like that." 

Taking a deep breath and flashing Seth an appreciative smile when he offered a thumbs-up, Bella began the trek across the short distance toward the seated young man. He glanced at her, the ever-present scowl reminding her of his sister, but the fact he remained in his spot gave her a small boost of confidence. She carefully lowered herself down, crossing her legs and giving the marshmallow a few taps to check the heat before tentatively offering it to him. 

When (Y/N) continued staring forward, she pursed her lips but her eyes caught the way his body seemingly relaxed. "You haven't said a word to me since the bonfire, and I know it can't be a good feeling. Seth said you'd come around eventually but it's been weeks and- and I don't want to see you get hurt, okay? Stop.. stop fighting it." 

"It should have been Jacob." (Y/N) muttered, taking the stick and biting into the marshmallow. "He's the idiot in love with-" His brows furrowed in irritation and he ripped the marshmallow off the stick, shoving the rest in his mouth and tossing the stick aside. 

"But it wasn't Jake," Bella spoke softly, hesitantly reaching out to place her hand over his knee. "And I don't plan on rejecting you."

[thee-horny-thicky]

This might be a weird request. But I was looking for a Muzan or douma x reader. However whenever they get intimate- the female never moans. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy it she just isn’t very vocal which annoys and gives them a complex. The fact they can’t even get a human girl to moan annoys and frustrates them. She’s shy, little insecure (chubbier side) so never moans. Also doesn’t get off on general just touching etc. it excites her but doesn’t get her soaked.

Congratulations, Anon. You've been selected for 'Drafts Thicky Should Finish and Post Program!' I chose to do Douma for one because that's what past me chose to do. Anyway, enjoy!

Much didn’t hurt Douma’s pride. But you, a little human maid, succeeded easily. You were supposed to be a distraction, a way to get his dick wet. Then, when he was done with you, he’d turn you into a meal. You had a cute face and ample curves that’d keep him well-fed. At least, that was the plan, until you rejected him.

“I’m honored,” you’d said, a blush consuming your plump cheeks.

He remembered grinning smugly, thinking he had you in his trap. Then, you’d continued speaking, wiping his smile away.

“But I must decline your offer."

With that, you’d bowed and scurried away, leaving a shocked Douma in your wake.

Your rejection had lit a fire under Douma, spurring him to chase you until he finally got you in his bed. Somewhere along the way, he’d grown attached to you, the game of cat and mouse being played throwing a wrench in his plans to fuck and eat you. Through hours of stalking and harassing, he’d gotten to know you, and your gentle, bashful demeanor reminded him of Kotoha, when he’d first stumbled across her. Maybe that’s why, after he just finished fucking you, he had no interest in consuming your flesh. Or perhaps, it was because his mission felt incomplete. He’d bedded you, yes, but you barely made a peep. Your lip stayed firmly between your teeth, and when he managed to coax a sound out of you, it was only a few whimpers.

Worst of all, Douma didn’t think you came.

So, there he lay, stewing in frustration and humiliation, tangled in the sheets, his nude body pressed against yours. He had half the mind to snap your neck right there, for all the effort you were making him put in. But if he did, he’d have no chance to redeem himself. So, instead, he voiced what was on his mind.

“Was I not good?” he blurted, the question sounding absurd coming from his lips.

He was Upper Moon #2, irrefutably handsome, powerful, intelligent, and had a legion of loyal followers. He’d given many pleasure before you and would continue to give pleasure to many after you. Douma was more than good enough, he was amazing, and yet you had him questioning himself.

One day, you’d pay for that.

You looked at him, face flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, and eyes glossy. You looked thoroughly ravished, except you hadn’t fucking come.

“It felt good,” you said with a small smile, meant to be reassuring, but doing nothing for him. “I-I just don’t…”

You trailed off, then shook your head, looking away as your cheeks grew hotter. “Never mind. It’s silly. I…I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Tell me,” he ordered, feeling borderline desperate.

You sighed, then refocused on him. “I…I just don’t have intense orgasms. Really, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

He stared at you, not fully understanding. Never had he been with a woman who didn’t have a noticeable orgasm. Douma analyzed everything he’d done to you, which was rather tame compared to past encounters. He limited it to fingers and cock, too consumed with want to do anything else.

Oh.

Oh.

At that moment, he had a revelation, suddenly feeling like a dumbass. Penetration alone wasn’t enough for many women.

His gaze remained locked on yours, and the longer he stared, the more embarrassed your expression became. “Just forget I said anything,” you said pleadingly.

Absolutely not.

Instead of obliging, he sat up fully and crawled over your prone form. First, he kissed your neck, relishing in your soft gasp. He smiled against your skin. Already, you were proving his theory correct.

“Silly me, not savoring you properly,” he murmured as he kissed down your body, stopping at your breasts.

You squirmed, trying to escape his touch, but he held you in place

“Y-you don’t have to do this,” you panted, before whimpering when his tongue swirled around your pebbled nipples.

As he sucked and nibbled, he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his palm, smell your arousal, sense the blood pumping through your veins. The results he was getting just couldn’t be denied.

“But I want to,” he said, before switching to the other breast and giving it the same attention.

You moaned, back arching, hands tangling in his hair. Any protests you had died a quick death.

When he had his fill of your full tits, he resumed his descent, kissing your soft belly, then your wide hips, and finally your thick thighs. The smell of your wet heat had his mouth watering. He parted your legs, taking a moment to admire the slickness that greeted him, before leaning down and swiping his tongue along your slit. When your taste hit his taste buds, he groaned. You tasted so sweet. He imagined your flesh and blood would be just as flavorful.

When he spread your lower lips to have full access, he blew air onto your dripping sex, chuckling at your whimper and pathetic shoves. Teasingly, his tongue darted to sample some of your juices. The rich, tangy taste made his restraint snap. Not even a second later, he speared his tongue inside your core, nearly drooling at just how delectable you were, at the sweet sounds you were finally making.

“Oh!” you gasped, gripping the sheets and arching into his mouth.

He ate you with gusto, his eagerness reflecting his hunger for you, literal and metaphorical. Each move he made resulted in his nose bumping your clit, stimulating you further. Your shyness started to disappear, and soon, you were shamelessly grinding against his face, chasing the pleasure you’d been deprived of earlier.

Silly Douma, thinking his cock was the best part of him. Clearly, it was his mouth. Not only was he an excellent conversationalist, but his tongue could bring pleasure to any woman, a fact you were reaffirming.

He kept a firm grip on your thighs and hips, keeping you still as he feasted. To send you hurling toward the edge, he rubbed his thumb over your clit in quick, firm circles. Moments later, your body was tensing, your pussy clenching around his tongue as you came.

“Don’t stop, please!” you cried as you experienced your peak, moaning at the top of your lungs.

He had no intention to. He licked and fingered you through your orgasm, drawing out your pleasure until you were a sweaty, panting mess. He was content staying between your legs the rest of the night, finally sampling your flavor and pleasing you. It was a win/win, and most importantly, saw the return of the ego that defined him.

TLTR: Reader only has intense orgasms from having her pussy ate

[at4-raxia]

Mark Grayson x ladybug! Reader (part 2)

Part 1 (if you haven't read it) and part 3

Hii, honestly I couldn't wait to write part 2 especially because I just love the variants and writing various shenanigans with the characters. With that said, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Before you read: protective Mark, him and the reader are whipped for each other (more like obsessed to some degree), they are also really dumb, the variants want that cookie, deception, non-consensual touching, suggestive, the reader is not okay (unreliable narrator), angst (because why not?), and lastly but not least, violence and blood.

Synopsis: It was a way to cope, if you could overcome your past with Mark, you would start anew, but as [name] it was impossible. You had missed this sense of normalcy with him, you had missed Mark, and being Ladybug had given you the solution on a silver platter. With a mask on you forgot about all your insecurities, in your suit you forgot about everything that had transpired with him and you acted almost like you did once. It was easy, flawless, until, well, it was not, and the consequences of your actions came crashing down on you.

"Tikki does it look like I can do anything else?" Your frustration was palpable in the air, you didn't want to hear the scolding.

"[name] please" she pleaded softly while flying in front of the woman who had her arms tightly crossed and her face tense. "I'm only saying that you can't keep doing whatever it is you think you're doing, it's not healthy".

"Then what other option do I have Tikki? As a normal human I was not enough, now as a superhero I can't face him without my mask." Your eyes were staring at the ground, your jaw clenched in anger and you closed your eyes for a second from feeling the tears.

"Mark... I don't understand him. How could he approach me as if nothing ever happened? As if he didn't sever ties with me, as if I didn't go no contact from everyone for almost two years." Your hands were swiftly wiping the tears away. Tikki for a second went still, shocked by your outburst, and then went to hug your cheek, not caring in the slightest if the tears wet her tiny form.

"I just—I don't understand. I can't do it, I can't go back to how things were without addressing everything. But even if I did, we wouldn't go back to how things were. I can't even face him, I can barely speak to him, or give him what he needs apparently, and now, I can't even let him go." Your deep sigh reverberated through your chest, a slight tremor ran through your spine and you felt more at peace after having let some of the build up tension out of your body.

"I'm so tired of not being enough Tikki... If I had been enough do you think he would have at least apologised?" The words were brimmed with insecurity which made the kwami of creation gasp in horror at how little you thought of yourself.

(Paris had destroyed you and those two years were a buried secret that you and the city shared. You were a murderer in cold blood, you had done it for the city, you had gotten rid of the black cat that mindlessly annihilated without remorse. That day of destruction and death, that dark day for the supposed "city of love", was the only day the Parisians had praised you. "Their saviour" they called you, "their hero", "the luck of Paris". You remember puking your guts out, your knees giving up in your tiny claustrophobic bathroom. You had enjoyed killing the cat, you had loved the feeling of creating strategy after strategy to demolish every little ounce of his hope and strength, your smile becoming more twisted each time you saw him crumble. Tikki didn't say a word to you about the ordeal, not to comfort nor punish you verbally, but while you had given a young man eternal rest in a brutal way, you had done it for the greater good. That fact alone was enough for Tikki to know that while wrong, you had done the necessary thing that many would have hesitated to do.)

"Can you believe that I really thought that I would have a chance as a superhero?" Your laugh is a ugly, almost hysterical as you wither in the corner of your room.

"[name] that's not true, I really think you should talk to Mark about this—"

"And then what?"

"Haven't you stopped to think for a second? Don't you maybe think that Mark did that years ago not because you were not good enough but to protect you?" Tikki then gave a napkin for [name] to blow her red nose in.

"What do you mean? Then why only me?" You say focusing your puffy eyes on the tiny red and black creature.

"Is it really so out of the question to think that maybe you were so special that he couldn't have risked you getting hurt because of him? Are you really going to just disregard the fact that he stuck with you through thick and thin? And for what? Because you overthink too much".

"it's not overthinking if it's the truth, he didn't even message me or call me to know if I was okay after I went to France". There were so many different little things you were focusing on, your mind was imploding from the possibilities, from the guilt of having jumped too fast to conclusions.

"I don't know about that for sure and I'm not justifying his actions, but we need to see his perspective. We don't know why he did that, yet you can ask him that". How could Tikki even propose this when you couldn't even look him in the eyes?

"You can't hide forever behind this excuse, your avoidant behaviour is just your way of justifying your fear of being faced with the reality of things again. I know you're afraid, but you can't run forever or hide behind your mask forever. Even if the worst case scenario happens and we discover an even uglier truth than what we imagined, at least you will have the truth in your hands. You will be able to finally get closure, to have a fresh start". After recovering from the shock of Tikki's wake up call, you slowly nodded while some tears made your way down your face. An ugly smile, the one you make when you cry, made its way up to your face as you hugged your friend closely and closed your eyes.

-

Eve knew that Mark had a childhood friend, she knew that he cherished her deeply from how fondly he spoke about her when they had been together. She wasn't jealous, Eve recognised her worth and wouldn't want to exchange it with anyone else's, yet it kind of hurt to see that Mark didn't talk about her with the same fondness. For Eve you were at some unreachable peak, and in the moment she had realized it, she understood how Alexander the Great's generals must have felt knowing that he was unsurpassable.

Mark wasn't the only man in the world, but for some time he had been her world. He had been a good boyfriend, caring, attentive, sweet and so on. They had their ups and downs, like any other couple, but overall the experience had been unforgettable.

(A buried thought screams that in another universe where you don't exist, maybe there's a possibility that she's still with Mark. Even if she does think about it sometimes, she doesn't dwell on it.)

Mark loved her, she wouldn't doubt it. Yet, it wasn't enough when she wasn't the girl he loved the most.

(To their friends they say they separated on a mutual accord, but nobody knows how it had happened. One day everything was fine, while the next they were on separate ways. She couldn't stay with Mark when you were on his thoughts 24/7, but after seeing you in person she couldn't really blame the guy .)

Meeting you had been an humbling experience.

You weren't the most attractive person she had seen, but there was something about you that made you look like a flower in bloom. The kind that you appreciate early in spring after a harsh winter, the kind you don't pick off the ground just to see it alive the next day.

Alive.

That was the word.

You felt alive, not just in the literal sense. More in the fact that every little gesture, every smile, every giggle livened up the room. For Eve this kind of beauty is not something you can achieve, it's something that you have because you're a good soul and your body shows it.

You're no saint, but for a moment—the goodness in you, the pain you carry both as a civilian and a hero, your smiles—all of this makes Eve believe in something, in something good, that almost resembles hope for this world. (She hadn't meant to find out who you were, it was accidental. One moment she was following you to talk to you, the next you were de-transforming, completely clueless of her presence.)

-

"So you know Invincible's name?" Atom Eve, or Eve, had sat down next to you after asking you this question. The both of you were on the roof of a building, legs dangling meters from the ground as you munch on your sandwich.

"I heard it from you", it was the truth, but you also knew who was under the yellow mask, so partially the truth?

"Are you sure?" You were pretty sure.

"Yes, I was standing not too far away, I mean I'm not hard of hearing" you joke, but something tells you that Eve's question is not really about Mark's name.

"Look, I'm gonna be forward with you" she turned around to face you completely as you took another bite of your sandwich, for a moment she thought about just asking where you had bought it, but then she revealed something she knew about you.

"I know your identity", the words leave you comically frozen, but there's nothing to laugh about really.

Silence, complete utter silence. You had stopped chewing, the air had grown still and there was no sound whatsoever. You slowly turned to face her, with cheeks full of food and eyes wide.

"Did you tell Mark?" That was what you were worried about?

"So he doesn't know? I guessed this was the reason why he acted so differently towards 'Ladybug'. But no, it's not my place to do that, but I think I should also ask you that question." She was calm as she generated in her hands a sandwich, probably hungry too after seeing you eat with so much joy. You had found out her identity just by using your brain, after all there was no way that Samantha Eve Wilkins—the same girl who looked and sounded like Atom Eve, the girl who befriended Mark after he got his powers—was not the superhero in pink.

"To whom would I reveal your identity? I mean, as far as you're concerned my kwami knows about you", you opened your bottle of water and washed down the lingering taste of meat, veggies and home made bread.

"Kwami?"

-

You don't really know how much time you had spent with Eve, talking about your powers, about college, work and so on, but you were glad you had the opportunity. One conversation led to another and suddenly you were vulnerable:

"I mean, I might be smart but that's it. There's nothing really special about 'Ladybug'", the both of you were still on that roof fully suited up, your feet swinging mindlessly.

"You're kidding right? You defeated a villain with a hairpin and you can repair any damage. Your powers are similar to mine, but you have the creativity that I lack. My powers are almost limitless, but I just act in survival mod all the time".

"Creativity won't save me in the long run, against viltrumites I'm useless, while you can hold your ground. I'm not fast enough, strong enough to compete. I'm not weak but it's not enough, you know?".

For a moment Eve was silent, thinking her next words carefully.

"Well, you don't need to be that strong. You're not facing threats alone, you can rely on others." Eve was not a person of words, she was not as impulsive as Mark, and was not insensitive, but she wasn't used to comforting others.

"You need to embrace your confidence, and honestly—it's not really about this—but you need to tell Mark. That man is going crazy over you". With that you choked on saliva and got up.

"Eve! Don't lie about this!" You exclaimed with a high pitch. You were already delusional enough to hope that maybe you could fuck around with Mark without him knowing who you were in the long run, she didn't need to feed your delusions by saying that Mark was crazy for you, it was unfair.

"Why would I lie?" She laughed hard as she also got up, she couldn't really believe how ridiculous the situation was, how stupid the both of you were.

"You need to grow some balls [name], I mean it". You pushed her lightly as she laughed before saying goodbye and flying away.

.

.

"Why do you need to grow some balls?"

"JESUS MARK" you're startled as you jump a little, your eyes wide as you turn around to find Invincible standing in all his spandex glory.

"It's 'Invincible' to you Ladybug" He says before crossing his arms and looking at the city.

"yeah, yeah 'Invinciboy', tell that to the news, not me", your smirk is the one of a cat as you tip toe on the edge of the roof. You might not see his eyes, but you know Mark, you know every kind of expression he makes.

And if that isn't one of irritation than you never knew him.

"Don't call me that".

"You have a lot of demands today, first you eavesdrop on a private conversation and then you pretend I call you 'Invincible'? You let everyone else call you Mark when no civilians are around". You express your opinion with nonchalance, with a teasing smile as you take a good look at him, at your Mark in spandex (or in polymer fiber or whatever the material is—).

"I wasn't eavesdropping and you're not like others for the record" , for a moment you think he will add a "because you're special, so you can call me however you want", but you know he won't, so you start to question if he at least considers you a friend.

"Aren't we at least friends?"

"Why would we be friends?" There's no evil, no malice, nothing. It's just a mere observation after all.

Your playful expression vanishes for a second, your gaze falls on his eyes once again as you try to understand if the words are genuine or just a way to rouse you.

"Why would we not be friends? We fight together, joke around, talk, spend time—"

"No. We don't do that. At least I don't, you do all the joking, the talking, the laughing. All you do is stick to me like some octopus". You're not even close to him and he can feel the lingering sensation of your gloved hands against him. He calls you an octopus but then he just clings on you like a leech in your civilian form? How hypocritical can he be?

"You should be glad that at least one girl is giving you some sort of attention". You might be hurt, but you recover fast. There's no right or wrong right now, even if it's mostly your fault. You wish you had the confidence to solve this mess, but instead you fuel whatever this is under this confident façade you have created for yourself.

"That's a lot coming from you, you look like a lost puppy every time I even look at you". A hard jab, one that makes you more vicious. One that makes you laugh internally, since that's the face he makes whenever you're too busy to give him some semblance of attention.

"I don't get why you're so pressed about it. The fans love us, the GDA loves us as a duo. You're the only one so against it". You don't understand why things always need to be so complicated with him.

"Um, hello??" He says mockingly with sass. "Maybe it's because I don't like you?"

You laugh a little, because obviously he doesn't like you. He didn't like you before you became a superhero, it was foolish to think that maybe he would change his mind now, fuck Eve for saying otherwise and getting your hopes up.

"Oh really? Are we in fifth grade? Let's hear it then, who does the little baby like?" You don't bother to cover up the mix of emotions you're feeling right now as you mock him with your tone, you might have cried on the spot if it wasn't for the anger that kept you going, which was directed at him and yourself. Out of every plan, out of every crazy stunt you have pulled, trying to start anew with your secret identity has to be the one to go wrong? (And all for what? Because you don't have the balls to face Mark? Pathetic.)

His skin reddens, only slightly, as he looks away. Now he even dares to become shy? Fuck wrapping your hands around him, the yo-yo in your hands looks too good to not be used right now.

"It's not your business, but this" he makes a gesture with his hands to indicate whatever is going on with you and him, "needs to stop". Especially when he can't even make a move on [name] properly.

"Oh yeah, gee I wonder who it is with your busy social life", your tone is acidic as you mock him, "Mmm, let's list all the girls you know and find out, is that okay for you 'invinciboy'?" The man grits his teeth and is about to go away, tired from your bullshit when he halts as he hears you listing names and things you shouldn't really know about his life.

"Is it Eve? Mm, from your face I guess no. But it would have been a good guess, many exes who remain friends usually go back together", your face is gleeful, but in a mocking way, focused on his expression as you try to solve him, like one of your puzzles.

"Oh, oh! Is it Amber? She was your first after all."

"What—"

"Mm, I don't think it's anyone from the team either, is there a possibility you might be gay then? Do you like William perhaps, Gayson? I don't have other female options available and the best friends to lovers troupe is really common—" Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, you're no longer touching the ground and Mark is holding you up by your suit.

"How do you know all of this?" His voice is deep as his glare cuts your skin like butter, there's no sympathy in his tone, the words are the ones of a man who doesn't mess around with the people he cares about. It's the first time you've seen this side of him directed at you.

"Has your tiny little pebble brain thought that maybe, just maybe, I'm someone you know?" You seethe as you face the consequences of your actions, you know that Mark could rip you to shreds right now since he has the upper hand, but you don't care, because he is not a monster like you, so you know he won't snap your neck for running your tongue.

"Then tell me who you are, if you're so sure you actually know me" Was he insinuating that you, a hero, were a stalker? You knew he had at least somewhat the right to believe it, due to the information, but you weren't that bad to make such an assumption. (You were already this horrible in his eyes, and he didn't even know your worst side yet.)

"Why don't you answer my question first?" His face is still contorted in rage, yet he hasn't abandoned all common sense like you. He ponders for a second if he's making the right choice, the right deal.

"If you dare to hurt them I swear—"

"Woah, woah! Pretty boy, I would never. You're not that pretty". It's not the right moment and your joke doesn't land, yet after this illuminating discussion you realize that none of them really did, because Mark doesn't like you and he doesn't even trust you as a coworker.

"After I tell you who it is, you will reveal your identity to me". You freeze slightly, your pupils shrink at the possibilities of a disastrous aftermath. Your curiosity is too much though, you really need to know who this person is.

"Yes, yes, okay", you say, but not before rolling your eyes.

He looks at you for a second more, to see if you're honest under all this fake bravado, before sighing and letting you free from his hold.

"Do you know the bakery down the road?"

It's almost a mutter but you hear it anyway so you don't bother to mock him with a derisory "what did you say?", you're getting tired of this, yet not tired enough to just give up. This is the moment when you can finally find peace and accept that maybe Mark wasn't meant for you. (Deep down it's useless thinking this way, since you will never get over him.)

"I buy often from there", your words are almost phrased like a question. Maybe it's because you work there and there are only two people and an old lady running the place.

"It's one of the girls working, her name is—"

"Anna?"

"[name]".

The name repeats in your head like a loop as you become a statue, your smile fades as you come to the realisation that it was always you at the end of the day. Not Amber, not Eve, not Ladybug, just you.

[name].

You've tried so hard to fix things, to have a second chance. Now you're face to face with the fact that you had never needed one, that all your overthinking, all your crying about him, avoiding him, all your fears and insecurities could have been avoided if you had had the courage to talk to him.

You're not happy, you're not relieved.

You have ruined everything.

He loves you, of course, he has just said it. But he loves [name], his childhood friend, the girl who loves baking, the [name] he remembers. He doesn't love Ladybug, the superhero version of you, the one whose trauma changed her in a confused mess. His distrust and dislike is palpable, you wouldn't doubt after your epiphany that he might be disgusted too if he knew about the blood you have shed in Paris.

You're breathing hard, you know that he will hate you if he discovers your identity. Not just Ladybug, but you. (But who are you really? Are you [name]? The childhood friend that stuck to him like glue. Are you Ladybug? Are you something else you don't know of?)

You think you're crying as you walk back towards the edge of the roof, your only escape route, since running away is the only thing you're good at. (It almost reminds you of that time when Nolan comforted you, it was also the last time you had seen him and Mark doesn't tell you what happened when he comes to the bakery. He doesn't even talk about his family, about his little purple brother you saw on the streets when you were patrolling).

"Hey, are you okay?" He is tentative in his steps as he tries to approach you, he had expected some sort of reaction from you, but not this.

"I need to go", it doesn't sound right because of the tears, from the snot in your nose that's keeping you from saying the words right, together with the hiccuping.

He finds it hard to let you go after you promised to reveal your identity, yet it's even harder when you cry the same way his girl does.

He almost reaches to hug you but you're already far away, he can see your silhouette swinging from building to building. He could fly and catch you, but he doesn't find it in him to be harsh on you again after seeing your crying face.

-

("Aren't you glad [name]? He loves you!" Tikki is buzzing around happily as you try to collect yourself, as if you're the broken puzzle that needs solving.

"You don't get it, do you? He doesn't love me, he doesn't know who I am anymore, he loves the person he remembers, the one who he thinks I am. Not this mess. I thought that if he fell in love with Ladybug, it would have been easier for him to accept the person I'm now". Your hands are shaking as you look at them, as if by looking at them you could remember the sensation of the warm blood coating them.

"Let's think in a positive way, at least you know the truth..!" Tikki stops in her tracks as she sees your deranged expression.

"You and your damned truth. I don't need to know the truth!" You glare at the kwami with the build up hatred you have for yourself and this hero life that was forced upon you.

"I don't give a shit about the truth!" Your voice gets higher with every point you make, Tikki can't help but flinch at you.

"I just want Mark" you plead, almost like a prayer and not a demand. Tikki can't help but be angry at you, at the fact that you won't listen, you just drown in your sorrows even when there's a life-saver around your body.)

-

You don't talk to anyone, not even to Tikki, you don't go to work and you ask your parents to tell others that you are sick. They are worried about you, sometimes they come inside your room and sit on the bed, they tell you that they are there if you need them. You don't answer, you never do, and you feel like a bad daughter, you don't deserve this coddling when it's your fault, but you know that it's not like you can accept their help, since it's not even a possibility in their minds that you might be a superhero.

Your friends and coworkers are worried, Mark especially. You feel guilty about causing all this distress, but it's not enough to stop you from looking at flights for Paris. Would everything be better if you just gave back the miraculous? Tikki might not outright say it but you can see the way she looks at you. The way she judges you, scrutinizes you. You know she would gladly go back to Marinette if given the opportunity.

You never book the flight, you just look and think about it under the warm blankets as the bright light from the laptop makes your eyes red. Tikki can see what you're doing, yet she doesn't stop you. Maybe it's some sick test to see if you have the guts to actually leave behind one of the identities you have created, or maybe it's not, and she genuinely wishes you would press it and get this over with.

You never make up your mind, you just rot in indecision, like you always do.

Like you do with your life, with Mark and with everything else.

You don't know what is going on with the outside world, the GDA has contacted you multiple times but it's better they get used to your absence since you're reluctant to go back to the team. You're a coward, they might need you for something important, and your stomach churns at another responsibility you are avoiding.

"[name]?" Tikki after weeks of giving you the silent treatment, has finally decided to grace you with her presence. You wonder if she feels remorse for having blindly accepted Marinette's choice. You look at her, she's clearly worried and she's trying to find the right words to not activate the bomb in the room.

You don't bother to wait for her and just go to the bathroom. The one that stares at you in the mirror is not your reflection, or at least you hope that it's not the reflection of who you truly are. (A shiver runs through your spine, you knew that the black cat had gone crazy. You wonder if maybe he had been just misunderstood, if he had been just like you. Instead of trying to find a better solution to help him, you gave him a painful death.)

Suddenly as you wash your face you feel something trying to keep your hair from getting wet. You see the little creature that has been by your side until now holding your hair up, she's looking at you with love and sadness, not hate.

And you feel guilty, because how could you be harsh to her when she's always trying to fix your messes?

You repeat "sorry" all over as she dries your face with a towel, she doesn't say anything, she doesn't need to. She always knew that you were never going anywhere, but she wanted you to know that she was also not going anywhere.

While Marinette had been great, every miraculous holder had been a unique experience and you weren't the exception.

You didn't see it yet, you didn't see yourself the way Tikki, Eve, Mark and everyone else did, but maybe one day you would and she wasn't about to leave your side before that moment.

Because she loved you, not the girl who liked to bake, not the hero, not whatever distorted version you had in mind of yourself.

Just you.

"Do you feel better?" Tikki's voice is calm, gentle as she puts the towel aside.

"I think I do—I do", your words feel like a promise. A promise to be better than yesterday, for the people you love, for those who need you, for yourself, even if you don't know who she is yet.

-

"Have you read any messages yet?" Tikki says with her tiny cheeks full of chocolate chip cookies that had just come out of the oven.

"No, I don't think I will for now."

"[name]..." You glance at the little creature who's giving you an accusatory glare with no real heat behind it. You just smile and cut up the vegetables, the onions are merciless to your already tired eyes as you're hit by their pungent defence, but your knife is far more cruel as you dice them without remorse to prepare your five star meal (fried rice).

"I mean, I know I should let them know if I'm alright, but I just want to enjoy my peace a little more", you take out the left over rice and put it on the counter, the vegetables are sizzling and the aromas that cloud the kitchen make you sigh.

You're fine, not great yet, but for now being contempt in just cooking for yourself and your little friend a meal is enough.

Cooking is a big part of your life, one of your defining abilities. Your skills make people wonder how you became this good at such a young age.

You don't say to them that you cook when you're stressed, you cook when you're sad, happy, and even when you're angry.

You've lost some of the creativity over the years, pursuing your passion at an academic level has replaced fantasy with skill and technique. You have always known that academic discipline kills passion, and it did kind of murder the love you had for cooking.

But what else could you do if not that? It was either following your childhood dreams or working in an office.

You don't know where Tikki is as you lose yourself in your train of thoughts, completely focused on the task at hand. You stir, mix and add whatever is missing almost on autopilot and you sway your hips to the rhythm of the music that is playing on your phone.

In your little safe haven you don't know what's going on outside. You don't know about the dangers your coworkers are facing—the dangers Mark is facing—because the one time you seclude yourself from the rest of the world, it's also the one time it's about to be destroyed by alternative versions of your childhood friend.

You don't even think about what could be happening outside until you feel strong arms around your waist.

( "why do you always leave the window open?"

It was a bad habit of yours to forget to close the kitchen window, but your neighbourhood had always been safe. "I mean, it's not like we're in a dangerous area and the kitchen sometimes needs some air", you don't look at him in the eyes as you answer, you don't need to, because the bangs on the table and the almost moan that comes out of his mouth are enough to tell you that he is enjoying the food.

"Is it good?" You laugh proudly as you throw a glance in his direction.

"Not just good, it's better than my mom's, I'm not kidding", that's praise right there, better than his mom even? That's something to blush for.

"I'm not that good, Debbie is on another level", you jump a little as you feel him peer over your shoulder to look at what else you're making.

"Next time I go to your house I'll tell her you said this", there's a teasing glint in your eyes as you turn your head around to face him.

"It's not like she would disagree, she literally loves you more than me" he scoffs even if his lovingly warm eyes betray how he truly feels.)

You gasp at the sudden contact and instinctually elbow the person that's holding you so close against him to the point where there's no space between the both of you, no air that keeps away the heat radiating from whoever is behind you. As the hit lands you're not met with an abdomen, but with a wall that doesn't even budge.

"hey, it's me baby".

The voice is raspy, almost breathless as Mark whispers in your ear. You suppress a shiver as you try to create some space between your face and his, and while doing so that's when you take a good look at him.

"What the—what's with the mohawk? And Mark can you let me go please—" you plead before yelping from your stomach fat getting squeezed as the man behind you just sighs and just nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, his short hair tickling you in the process.

"you don't like it?" You're speechless at Mark's anomalous behaviour and looks, but it's been quite a while since you got out. It's wrong to be so pleased about the situation, about the domesticity of it. You have dreamed of Mark coming home and hugging you like this while you cook your favourite meals. Now though it just feels wrong, especially after last time. You could not in good conscience take advantage of the situation without addressing the many problems at hand.

"No, it looks good" the rice is done, but you're not focused on that as you hear a deep chuckle from Mark, who just smirks and leaves feather like kisses on your bare neck. You squirm as his weight and arms are blocking you from escaping his gentle assault at your neck. A whine builds up in your throat, frustrated at your helplessness.

You know the bastard is enjoying this, you can feel his smile as he almost bends you on the stove.

"Just—hey what are you doing?" You don't know what stars have aligned to put you in this position, but you need to put a stop to this. The escalation of the situation is worrisome as teeth graze your skin, as you feel his groin against your ass.

"Can't a man just appreciate his girl?" Not when you're not his girl.

"Don't call me that" you manage to say, as your flushed face betrays you.

You don't realise that he is confused by your statement, since you can't turn around to face him, but you do feel his muscles tense. What gives you the chance to escape is the smoke coming out of the pan, the rice is not inedible but it's just slightly charred by the looks of it.

"The rice!" Your suddenly raised voice and the smoke that hit his senses made him slightly loosen his vice grip around your warm waist. It only took one second for him to recollect himself, but it had been enough for you to just step aside and not feel his hot breath on your neck.

Having the possibility to turn around you can finally have a good look at him.

Is it bad if you say he looks wrong?

You were gone for two years and there's barely any change, you're gone for a couple of weeks and this man does a whole 360?

And the eyebags, his eyes...

They are so dark and focused, almost predatory as he looks at you up and down.

"I really missed you babe" he sighs, eyes half lidded, like a full lion after a meal and he hitches closer, because unlike the feline he could be satiated.

"Mark, you're acting weird today, are you alright?"

"I've never been better", his gaze is loving as he settles for grabbing your face with his hand—squishing your cheeks in the process—and giving you a peck on the lips, as if this was a daily occurrence. It's heart warming, soft, and gentle. It's not a passionate kiss, but it's enough to make you freeze. After all it's just the start of something more as his hand settles on your hip.

"Mark—no, stop. We can't." There's a frown on your face as he lets you push his face aside with shaking hands. His face is confused and you don't understand why, what did he expect?

"Why not? Come on [name], don't tease me.." he's almost desperate as he longs for your touch once more, even the hands that keep pushing him away are somewhat palliative as he can once again feel your soft skin against him once more.

"Because it's wrong, we're not together and there's a lot you don't know about me that I haven't told you about. You would hate me if I told you." He chuckles, no, no, he laughs whole heartedly, wiping some of the tears that are about to fall from your eyes. So this lame ass version of himself is not together with you? And more importantly, you're hiding something from him?

"Babe, babe", you're tormenting him with your flushed face, with your slightly red eyes.

"I could never hate you"

You stare at him as if he just hit you with a bucket of cold water.

On the other side of the room your phone vibrates on the table from the quantity of messages you're receiving.

Mark: are you okay?

Mark: hey, answer me? Are you home?

Mark: [name], it's important

Tikki looks at the messages with a horrified face, so she flies in a zone of the room where you can see her, even with the doppelganger in your way.

When you lock eyes she rapidly shakes her head while indicating the men in front of you and your phone.

Mark is calling

You don't hide the expression you make, it's priceless how your eyes shrink and your mouth falls agape. You don't know if he has realised that you know now, you don't know what his intentions are with you, but he had seemed so sincere, there was no way he would hurt you? What version of Mark could be so sadistic to toy with you before hurting you?

"Love, are you okay?" His tone has shifted, the words are another way of saying: "Oh, so you know now? No more faking?"

Because he knows you're not okay, and you're too smart to be fooled twice.

As you move backwards he moves forward, amused by this little waltz he is entertaining you with.

You move right using the table as a support, and he follows you.

It's fun, it's hilarious even. You were so pliable in his hands, like putty, whining about the contact even if your body craved more, and now you were making this laughable effort at evading him. You were lucky he loved you. He wonders where your Mark went wrong when you're as eager to hold him as he is.

Your back hits the open window behind you, the air is cold on your face as you turn around and look at how high up you are.

"There's nowhere to run now babe" he laughs amused as he hovers closer and closer, barely containing his desire to just finish what he started back at the stove.

"You really think so?" A smirk appears, eyes shining in a way he has never seen before, and then you do the most unexpected thing.

You jump out the window, he's not fast enough to grab you since you took him by surprise.

His heart leaps out of his throat, he almost doesn't want to see if you're splattered on the floor, your body just a stain on the floor as your organs are splattered here and there on the sideway.

As he flies outside instead of something gruesome, he's met with your suited up form bouncing around buildings as you try to create some distance between the both of you. Or maybe you're creating some other scheme to fool him once again.

When your gaze meets his, time freezes and you playfully stick his tongue out to him, to mock him, laugh at his foolish and cocky behaviour.

He laughs as one hand just covers his face.

Of course you had powers in this world, of course this was your secret.

Oh, this Mark was a real loser.

Hellooo, I hope you enjoyed part two! Honestly out of every variant, Mohawk Mark is my favourite. Originally I had just planned to finish this here, but then I just got carried away with the last part, lol.

Part 3

[least-transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans^16:

Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

“He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

“First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl).”

Oli OrionSound^16:

Empires SMP Season 2, Pirates SMP, New Life SMP, Afterlife SMP

Trans man, he/they

“That freak is transfem, trust [the submitter]. [Their] source is divine knowledge and [their] ownership of the transfemoliorionsound url.”

“HIS PRONOUNS ARE SHE/HER.”

“[The submitter has] successfully cracked at least three eggs with the power of transfem Oli TheOrionSound, if she loses [they] will CRY.”

“Look at this cubito and then tell [the submitter] he doesn't participate in every type of gender shenanigans and tomfoolery. His pronouns are hee/hee.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

TW fandom loves to speculate and theorize about mer and beastmen anatomy like how much they borrow from their animal ancestors. How about Miss Raven? What raven traits does she still have?

[Might be referencing this post?]

wiulwoyefapa THIS IS A TOPIC I THINK ABOUT A LOT, ACTUALLY. I think it's really fun to theorize what animalistic traits our non-human characters might have :DD

Here's just some of the raven stuff that stuck around with our Miss Raven:

(Please note: I do talk about bird and human anatomy in this post! Nothing explicit, but figured I'd warn in case this is an uncomfortable area.)

I think Miss Raven's general personality matches that of a raven; they're intelligent yet playful. She's less communicative and sociable than a raven, but I think she makes up for that in her writing.

Birds cannot taste capsaicin, which is the irritant that often registers as "spiciness" to humans. (It's an evolutionary adaptation that helps birds spread the seeds of chili peppers they eat.) Miss Raven has a high spice tolerance because of this, unlike her uncle (who is sensitive to spice).

Likes shiny things; her eye is easily caught by them regardless of value, size, color, etc. (That's her bird brain talking www) She can't wear much jewelry because she might get distracted by it. Instead she keeps jewelry in a little box and stares at it for fun, amusing herself with the sparkle.

This has been mentioned a few times, but Raven sleeps in a manner that's strange for a human. Instead of lying down, she'll form a "nest" of blankets and pillows and sleeps curled up in it.

Miss Raven is a little clumsy on her feet because the weight in her human body is distributed slightly differently than in her bird body.

She equates clothes to a bird's feathers, and being naked like having all your feathers plucked. (Man, have you SEEN a bird without its feathers? Most pathetic looking dry ass babies ever, I tell you.) Miss Raven tends to cover up her skin because, in her mind, she doesn't want to be seen as a crusty ol' naked bird.

Tends to wear skirts instead of pants because pants feel restrictive to her. She's used to having her legs out and feeling the breeze down there.

Miss Raven mostly wears black because she feels like she's kind of obligated to, as that is the original color of her feathers. More recently though, she has come to terms with the freedom her human form grants her and has been more experimental with her fashion.

Likes cuddling and when people play with her hair. This is because actual ravens cuddle with their entire bodies and preen their partners.

Ravens can eat almost anything, even garbage and carrion. Miss Raven has a strong stomach and an adventurous palate because of this.

She's smaller than the average raven, but she has the same protective instincts of one. If she's upset or trying to come off as intimidating, she'll puff up (her feathers stand up) and get verbally snippy (an actual raven would try to nip you).

Doesn't like people touching her things or being in her space. This is because ravens can be territorial!

Bird mouths are actually dry because their salivary glands are in the back of their mouths. This wouldn't work for a human and the kinds of food they eat, so when Raven first gained a humanoid form, it was weird for her to have a wet mouth and teeth 😂 Words felt so strange to speak too.

Initially nervous around predator animal beastmen and actual predator animals, particularly cats. This includes Lucius, Grim, Chenya, the Octatrio, the Savanaclaw trio, Fellow, Gidel, etc. It's Miss Raven's natural instincts letting her know she has to prioritize her own safety! She usually gets over it once she gets to know the other person a little better.

Distrustful of scarecrows since they're the things put out in fields to keep crows and ravens from eating their crops. Also has weird distrust of farmers because of this.

In terms of mating, ravens are monogamous and devoted to their partners, never straying too far from each other. They often go for romantic flights together and even give each other special treats. Miss Raven has that idea of an idealized romance in her head.

When content, ravens make a soft warbling noise (similar to how a cat might purr). Miss Raven does too, but she does her best to actively repress this sound, since she feels it is embarrassing.

Mid-February to late May is an odd time of year for her, as that's mating season for ravens. That's when she's at her most sentimental/emotionally squishy... She doesn't like being in public because it's so easy to make her cry (and those terrible NRC students would definitely do that) 😔

In early summer/late fall, ravens tend to molt and replace their feathers. Now that she has a humanoid form, Raven doesn't have to worry too much about that but sometimes still scratches excessively at phantom itches that come with molting.

Really impressed by skilled flying! This is because male ravens fly to impress females and to find mates. Raven always stares in wonder during Flight class. (Unfortunately, she's not that good at flying in her new form...)

While Raven's bite isn't as strong as Sebek's, she does bite. Birds typically have three kinds of biting: biting to open nuts and berries, biting to defend themselves (which can draw blood), and love bites (which mostly occur in domesticated birds). asbiliafeafia I like to think she gives little affectionate noms...

Insecure about the size of her "breast muscle" (not realizing that humans mostly have fat there). This is because the size of a bird's breast muscle is directly related to their flying ability... and flying's pretty important for her kind. Genuinely believes that the most skilled fliers at NRC must have a certain kind of physique to be as skilled as they are. (Envious of those buff boys/j)

Being a raven, she experiences culture shock when put against the habits and behaviors of others with animal ancestry. For example, aggressive behaviors that are affectionate to a dog or a cat are seen as intimidating threats to her.

Has cute domestic fantasies! That’s because a lot of birds will build nests together and share the responsibilities of parenting. She thinks it would be nice to build a life together with someone like that.

It's not weird for her to eat eggs! Wild ravens do it :>

THERE'S A REALLY SPECIFIC BIRD BRAND OF FLIRTING THAT SOUNDS WEIRD TO HUMANS. Birds in nature are protective of their eggs and typically only entrust their partner to look after them while they do something else, like hunt for food. Because of this, Raven is really flustered by someone asking for eggs in any context. For example, maybe they're eating eggs in the cafeteria and a peer asks her to "pass the eggs".