#this is so old i never got around to editing it

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

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

Word Count: 4170

Written: 23rd December 2024

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

Now Playing: Monster, by STARSET

Next ->

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🐦‍⬛: Is everything ok back home?

⛄️: Aren't you busy?

🐦‍⬛: I'm taking a break.

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

🐠: lucky, some of us have r busy

🐠: [Attached photo]

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

🐠: won't answer u then

⭐️: looks more colourful now

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

🐦‍⬛: Is anyone going to answer my question?

⛄️: Is there a reason you're asking?

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

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

🐦‍⬛: Kitten's messages have felt off.

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

🐠: what way?

⭐️: have U called them?

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

🐠: y didn't anyone tell us?

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

🐦‍⬛:  They didn't.

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

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

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

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

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

🐦‍⬛: I'm coming back now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucked up mess. Stupid fool. Useless.

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

It hurts.

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

Hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

You didn't want pity.

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

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

Maybe if you sleep it will go away.

Maybe when you wake up you'll feel better.

Useful.

Worth having around.

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

-----

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

3am.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🐠cute fishie🐠: [Attached Image]

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

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

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

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

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

Shutting Gran and Caleb out.

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

Why can't you learn?

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

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

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

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

You aren't fragile and sick and useless.

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

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

No water...

Maybe later.

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

Caleb would kill you.

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

Out. Out. Out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Explain."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⛄️: Are they alright?

🐦‍⬛: They will be.

[vengefultakeover]

Fatso: Hello, Bonebag (Pilot)

NOTE: Just so we’re clear: I am the original author of this story even though @dantelockwood is parading around as though they wrote it. They have stolen content and it’s a shame. These edits were done by the incredible @echovelvet278 and anyone else could never.

THUD

I dropped my suitcase by the door and looked around the foyer at the empty house. I ended up getting it for cheap and after I moved out of my exes place it was a welcome listing. It was beaten up, chunks of wall were missing exposing the small crawl spaces between the walls and the support structure holding the house up. Luckily, that was still intact.

I whistled as I closed the door looking around, the Kill Bill tune. I wandered through the archway next to me to find empty bookshelves lining the walls and a chandelier covered in the center of the room. The base connecting it to the ceiling was coming undone, another thing added to the list. I ran a hand along a shelf, picking up the dust along the way until a pile was swept onto the floor in a cloud. There was a chair at the end of the room facing out the window and I walked over, looking out to where this chair was looking. The backyard was bigger than I thought, could be big enough for a pool, but the fence was overgrown and decrepit and the grass would definitely need to be redone.

"I've got my work cut out for me - GAH!" I screamed as I turned around, my best friend having snuck up on me while I was peering out the window. 

"Ooop, sorry." She said, placing her own suitcase on the ground.

"For a place so old, the floors are surprisingly quiet." I hold my hand against my chest trying to keep my heart from exploding.

"Well, old buildings like these have a pretty good foundation. Especially here. Plus this is some high quality wood right here." She says, stomping with her foot, another cloud of dust puffing into the air around her sneaker.

"You have no idea what you're talking about do you?" I cross my arms with a smirk.

"Of course not. Anyways, I'm surprised the moving truck isn't here." My phone started to buzz as she said this. The moving company logo popped up and I put it on speaker.

"Hello?" 

"Hey, is this Emerson? Sorry to bother you, but our dispatcher says that the unit you rented is going to need to be picked up in person. We had no idea that they were delivering to that address, we would have said no if we knew. So, you are going to need to come pick up the truck. We're refunding half of the cost and of course you'll get the full deposit, but that is one of our black out delivery locations." The woman on the other line didn't seem to take a breath as she said this.

"Oh, shit, okay. Um, well...we'll come get it then." I held my hands on my hips, maybe a little too visibly upset because Sherry looked concerned. The conversation on the phone finished and I slid it back into my pocket with a sigh.

"Okay, so I'll take care of the truck, you should get the lay of the land here," Sherry pushed her suitcase to the side of the room and winked on her way out before I could get a word in.

"Alrighty then. Just me and you." I said, looking up at the crown moulding. It was in surprisingly wonderful condition. I just hoped it was everywhere else so we could keep it.

I continued to whistle, browsing the empty cabinets in the kitchen, tapping the burnt out lightbulbs in the bathroom, and testing how creaky the bedroom doors were until I heard a thud in the hallway. Peering my head out of the master bedroom, I found the attic staircase having flopped open and the small staircase leading up to the dark square in the ceiling looked ominous. Of course, I was curious, and with how old this whole building was it could have just been a loose screw. Right?

I slowly crawled my way up the steps and poked my head into the hole. There was a small window towards the end letting in a beam of light making a floral cross over a pile of cardboard boxes. I never thought I would buy a house that had a creepy attic, but this one came right out of a horror movie. Empty dress forms covered in soot and cobwebs, cardboard boxes stacked high, a chest with a heavy metal lock keeping it closed, and even a desk with boxes of photos of old homeowners and guests inside. 

"Wicked." I said with a smile. I took a seat at the desk and started shuffling through the photos. Tea colored images and straight faces repeated themselves one after another until I came across a group of brothers. Three of them all laughing in their morning coats and bowler hats. 

"What a handsome trio." I looked through a couple more and found individual shots of all of them. None of them staged or monotonous, but full of life. "I bet you were fun." I said, staring at the image of a portly fellow before quickly turning around as a mannequin fell over and a draft seemed to blow the picture away.

"That's my cue." I packed up the photos that were left and returned them to their boxes, knowing I would be going through them some time in the future and as I crawled back down out of the attic I felt eyes on me. Then, a cool feeling touched my hand causing me to recoil and fall down into the hall. Sherry caught me before I fell over the banister and laughed at the mishap with a jingling set of keys in her hand.

It took us a while unpacking the truck, being the only two, until a friendly neighbor stopped by.

"Hey there, need some help? I just got back from work and thought you might need a hand." He asked. I kept my head down trying to make sure I had enough room to pick up a couple heavy boxes.

"Oh, it's just fine, I'm sure you've had a long day and - " I caught a glimpse of him through my legs and realized I had my ass facing him. He stood there with his hands on his hips ready to help and this man was gorgeous. I quickly stood up and spun around, leaning against some boxes only to have them tip over.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind." He was innocently smiling as I stumbled and I nodded.

"We'd love the help." I said.

"Yeah we would, this shit is heavy." Sherry walked by and picked up one of the toppled boxes. The stranger started assisting pretty fast and honestly it was good that he ended up showing up because it went much faster.

"So, are you two married?" He asked, sipping on a water bottle after the final box was inside.

"Oh no. He couldn't if he tried." Sherry choked on her water and laughed.

"I'm gay and she's just helping me fix the place up." I playfully kicked Sherry.

"Oh, great." The stranger was smiling as he took another sip, maintaining eye contact that made me feel warm. 

"Well, I should head to bed. I'm exhausted." Sherry yawned. "Don't forget we're returning the truck tomorrow." 

As she left the room, the stranger started to get up to leave, "Wait, I didn't catch your name." 

"Oh," he chuckled, "It's Lance." He extended a hand which I may have shaken a little too long. He didn't seem to mind, he even got closer.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you for the help? I'm sure the water bottle isn't enough." He was standing so close to me I could feel his body heat.

"I think there just might be..."

Of course, I wasn't expecting to get my brains blown out by the hunk next door on the first night I stayed here, but I did. He fucked me on the sloppily made mattress surrounded by my bedroom boxes until we were both practically screaming and then we comfortably passed out next to each other as the fatigue from moving and a long work day took over us.

The following morning was met with blinding sunlight and a bit of movement at my feet. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and looked down at Lance who was naked and pointing towards the bathroom.

"Are you okay?" I asked, vision still a little blurry. As I rubbed my eyes I noticed that he looked terrified.

"I saw something in there. I touched my fucking cock." His voice was panicked.

"What?" I laughed, "Come back to bed, this is weird."

"Nah man, fuck this." He reached for his clothes and then suddenly toppled over onto the ground as though something had pushed him. He flipped over, his cock semi hard and I watched as it bounced to life. The tip pulsed open and I moved my hand to my mouth. Lance yelled as this invisible force tried to invade him, but then it stopped.

"Of course I don't fit." A voice groaned and suddenly I saw this thing become opaque. A large round ghost appeared out of thin air and slipped itself out of his cock and then flew directly towards his screaming throat. 

Lance gurgled before suddenly gulping and then this man convulsed on the floor. His arms flicked from his sides and his chest puffed out and flexed. I was amazed watching the display before me, even getting hard as this spirit invaded his body. His head bounced and rolled until suddenly he was on his feet with a grin letting out a heavy and deep belch.

"Hello Bonebag." His voice had changed, deeper and goofier, definitely not matching his body. Maybe that was just because I had already heard his voice.

"Um, hello?" I said with an awkward wave.

"Are you okay?" He asked in awe.

"What do you mean? Are you okay?" I leaned forward over the bottom of the mattress and poked his stomach.

"Hey that tickles." He laughed a deep hearty laugh, reminding me of the men in the photos. "You're not afraid of me?" He asked with his eyes squinting.

"Should I be? I mean that was cool. I figured this house must be haunted, but I had no idea a real haunting would be like this. It's kind of hot." What was I even saying? Was I dreaming? Going insane? Maybe there was black mold here.

"Oh. wow. Maybe I'm just not being scary enough." He leaned into the bed, crawling over me with his deep and misaligned voice. He could feel the hard on as he pressed into me.

"I don't think that's it. This is just - I dunno - hot." I said.

"Oh." He tilted his head and pushed himself off.

"You're dead right? Why don't I show you a good time? I'm sure you get up to a bunch of fun on your own." I get up off the bed, and start looking through the box labelled 'closet' with a thick sharpie font.

"What made you say that?" He asked with a smirk.

"Hmm, the general translucency, the moving objects, the creepy house. C'mon, you've got to be. Plus, nothing else could really explain what I witnessed just now." I threw together an outfit and walked to the shower.

"I guess you're right on the money fleshie." He chuckled.

"You coming?" I asked, turning on the water in the bathroom to take a shower. "I think we're gonna have some fun together. What's your name?" I stood in the door frame.

"It's Fatso." He said, walking over to me with a grin and a blue glow in his eyes.

Sherry was spooning some cereal into her mouth when we ran by her, unable to hear the mumbling as we disappeared out the door. She was left with a mouth full of cheerios and milk sitting at the upside down empty cardboard box with her phone playing something from TikTok.

"Okay, let's get you a meal." I we hopped into the car.

"You know how to treat a big ghost like me right." He said, patting his stomach before buckling in. As I turned the key I noticed that Fatso was patting the abs on his stomach, pushing in the ghostly tummy belonging to the ghost inside. He chuckled as he sucked it back in and we were off.

I had no idea what I was getting into when we went to the mall food court. Hotdog after hotdog, burger after burger, then we moved on to bourbon chicken, Subway, even pizza.

"This bone bag can really pack it in." He said, patting his stomach again, only this time it was a bit more bloated than before. His abs were squares poking through his tank top and I laughed as I sipped on my soda.

"How is it?" I smiled.

"You know," He let out a loud belch that echoed through the food court and eyes turned towards us, "I really missed having a stomach." He sucked his teeth and I wiped away a bit of sauce lingering on his upper lip. He smiled and I noticed his eyes glowing slightly blue again.

"That's really you in there?" I rest my head on my palm and stared at him.

"Yeah, my brothers and I hold the longest running possession, but I think I might win with this one." He flexed his arms and let out another burp.

"You're funny." I laughed.

"You think so?" He seemed to blush.

"Your brothers aren't around?" I asked, taking another sip of the sofa.

"I've been taking a break. I really love scaring people, and I thought I might get you in that house by hopping into this hunk. I like to visit there, it's like a vacation home. I thought I could fit, but I always bite off more than I can chew." He shrugged.

"I thought you did just fine." I was biting on the tip of my straw.

"Well thank you." He said, puffing out his chest and grinning with a rush of confidence.

"Maybe we should go out and have some fun. I know a couple of places we could go and dance." I stood up after checking the time. I extended a hand and pulled him with me as he shoved the last few bits of food into his mouth.

By the time we got to the row of clubs in the heart of downtown it was pretty late. We walked, knowing we wouldn't find parking and letting ourselves get distracted long the way. I was enjoying this ghost's company and something about him inhabiting my neighbor was extremely hot.

"This is Pepper's and there's a couple of places here that you might like."

"The last time I enjoyed music this much I got kicked out of my fleshies' body." Fatso was trying very hard not to enjoy the music as we walked in and I pulled him into me.

"Look at me," I said, staring into his eyes, "it's okay to enjoy it. Just use it to influence your movements." I started to dance near him and he hesitantly started to copy. He closed his eyes, moving his arms around and even doing a little jig that was definitely not popular in this time period. I laughed and he smiled with me, dancing some more and feel more comfortable in his skin than I had ever seen. He got so into it, he jumped onto the stage as the light shifted to a beautiful blue. Not unlike the color of his eyes. He grabbed the pole, spinning around it and sliding onto his knees. As he flipped around, kicking into the air he looked back at me and then invited me to him. Fatso's face popped out of his and I couldn't control myself, crawling up onto the stage with him and dancing on the LED stage.

Other's joined us on stage, a group amassing there and dancing to the beat. Fatso and I got closer until we were grinding against each other and I could feel his lips pressing against mine.

The combination of the music and the kiss and the hard on stimulated by the grinding must have been too much because he backed away from me and started to shake. As the beat pumped through the room his face popped out and then back in, especially when the bass was full and loud. His arms flailed and he kicked people out of the way and started to dance wildly towards the exit. I rushed after him until we were outside and suddenly he was almost throwing him up, screaming on the way out followed by that booming laughter.

"What the fuck?" He said, looking at the ghost in front of him. It took him a moment to realize what it was and then screamed. Terrified, he ran away, tripping over a recently emptied garbage bin and then running into a pole.

Fatso chuckled, "Love to see their reaction." He watched my neighbor run away.

"Me too." I say standing next to him, "What do you say we get you another hunk of flesh? A fleshy, was it?" I said, patting his belly which made him giggle. This time I could see the blush, a dark blue rushing into his cheeks.

"That sounds like a party to me." He grins.

[tegelsteg]

[tricoufamily]

visiting the hometown

(want everyone to know this edit came to me in a dream and i changed the lore just to do it)

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF THE NORMANDY SUMMIT

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Primarch Adrien Victus, Dalatrass Linron, and Urdnot Wrex With: Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor Commander, you need to keep Cerberus at bay- I can't overstate what a victory a treaty between the Turians and the Krogan would be for the Alliance. We need all the help we can get... Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[lunarharp]

scribbly first date type affair (continuation of my modern au stuff)

[attractthecrows]

irritated that i made revallen's worldstate a mahariel self-sacrifice one cuz that means i can't have laure waltz into skyhold and pass on the ancient elvhen secrets she picked up in the Brecilian forest by shoving her tongue down revallen's throat right in front of cullen

[2024skin]

Mom called me a shitty roommate today bc after months of her telling me to rent a uhaul (too young to do so) and then flaking out on me whenever I asked her if we could it on x day, I gave up on trying to get my bf's heavy TV and dresser and ordered a mountable tv, instead of buying more storage totes so that I could add to the ever increasing stack of totes in our guest bedroom

[leafy-m]

So I hit my 700th edit for the WHA wiki today, because I am a totally normal person

[icewindandboringhorror]

Found a very cool pastel cat sweater at the bins but I have literally nothing that matches it well, so I always struggle to make outfits with it lol

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*

Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–

[bmpmp3]

genbu ai has been found dead in miami.

[perilegs]

lay all your blood on me ty again @kuuttituutti for making the thumbnail!

[rokonrrc2]

Learn More

not that we didn't already Know belos was full of shit, but it's even funnier knowing the titan was still alive the whole time and probably judging him

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited

➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write

logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”

“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).

“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.

you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.

he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.

“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”

the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”

you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.

“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”

“it’s a gift! you keep those!”

“oh… right…”

he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 

“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 

the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”

“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”

“first what??”

“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”

“i have to name it?”

“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.

“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”

“that’s such a shitty name—”

“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”