#you Knew the awful little cat with a taste for blood was going to be white and fluffy

[lazylittledragon]

feral bastard origin story

[the-faceless-bride]

The woods, a witch, and a wolf pack. Punchline?

Summary: (paranormal Au and takes place 1874) Kyle was out later than normal. Away from his pack wasn't a good idea he knew he shouldn't have gone out late; but Johnny had set his heart on a pie tonight, and he wanted Johnny to get his wish. Staying out looking for berries revealed itself to be an awful idea as a group of hunters we in the woods. And he... wasn't fast enough. Good thing he found a house.

Warnings: Not many. blood, inaccurate monster lore, Gaz being adorable but untrusting, 141 members being worried and upset.

This is pretty short compared to what I would normally write, but I'm trying to get in the groove. I've been writing all of my fics on my phone, I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing.

Kyle cursed himself for being careless, not telling the others of his pack where he was going before sneaking off; he wanted to surprise Johnny, but had he known there were a group of hunters playing Van Helsing nearby he would've been more careful.

Now he was trying to limp away and hide with an arrow sticking from his side, it was much more painful than anything he'd felt before; and he had been roughed up bad before, but not like this. This was agony; a seething, burning pain. It traveled from his side through his ribs to his chest, from his stomach to his weakening knees.

Fuck. He didn't want to die here. In the woods, alone and in agony. That's when he smelled it. A welcoming smell, one that made him feel safe.

A house. A house that he'd never seen before, behind a hidden Rocky arch that was covered by a waterfall of vines and leaves. When did this get here? He always knew this hidden archway, but last he and his pack checked, it led to a dead end. Didn't it? Fuck. He can't remember, not when all he can hear is the pounding of his heart trying to escape his ribcage.

The door slightly ajar, he stumbled clumsily through the old wooden door; a cozy interior. A war fire, candles light all on the walls and interesting clocks, trinkets, and spices hung from the walls. The house was warm, very warm compared to the cold, sharp air outside; a soft velvet couch, a dark green covered in a flower pattern.

Kyle tossed himself down on it with a sigh and a groan. He wanted to pull the enflamed arrow from his side but didn't dare; not wanting to bleed out. 'Merow' Kyle jumped, a skinny black cat with the largest, brighest yellow eyes he'd ever seen sat on the arm of the sofa saring at him.

Kyle gave it an awkward wave, "hello," he said, just above a whisper. "Well, isn't this delightful. A pup bleeding all over my nice sofa." a voice jokes, Kyle whips his head to the voice with a growl, he didn't know who this was but he wasn't going to give them the idea he wouldn't harm them if they tried anything.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," Kyle stops his growls but still sits stiff ready for anything, "now before we start, would you like a warm drink? Coffee, tea, whiskey?" - Kyle shakes his head, "I made pancakes earlier? Fancy one? Best you'll ever taste," - he again shakes his head. "Well then, let me take a look."

Kyle slowly and hesitantly leans to you, letting you see his wound. He was confused. Most people who knew who or what he was normally would shoo him away or try to kill him.

"Don't worry, this should be a quick and easy fix."- you move to a corner, wall filled top to bottom with shelves pulling a trinket box out before taking a small flower.

"hear, eat this." - Kyle look from the flower to you then back - "I know, strange. But it will help; Wolvesbain is a pretty flower. It's probably what led you to me. The sent is pretty irresistible to pups like you," - Kyle rolled his eyes at being called a pup, but you were right; that sweet smell that lead him to this house was coming from the pretty little flower clipping that you held between your thumb and forefinger.- "wolvesbain is a helpful little flower, it can be rather helpful to you, when not mixed with poison... In fact, looking to plant this flower was the whole reason for coming here,"

Kyle hesitantly ate the flower. It wasn't as earthy and awful as he expected, though it made his mouth water, not in the good way. More of the he shoved a handful of pepper mint down his throat way.

"I'm terribly sorry for the hunters," -Kyle raise a brow at you-

"The hunters are particularly my fault. You see, when I came looking for these flowers, my reputation of a witch followed me, and they trailed behind. Wolvesbane normally only grows near the paranormal creature themselves, much like Monotropa uniflora or black roses. I needed them for my garden. However, I tried to say clear of you and your pack. Usually, the lesser the flower, the further away the pack is. However, you seemed to be nearby," - This was true, Kyle and his pack were nearby. Not very close, but close enough that he was able to run here in his time of need, not wanting to bring the hunters to his lovers - "so either you and your pack just got here, are hidden or you're a long way from home,"

Kyle sat, thinking of what this meant. You'd unintentionally brought danger to him and the ones he loved. What does this mean? Were you going to stay in these woods? If you left, would the hunters go too? Where did this house come from? You say you just got here, yet you have a garden filled with magic plants and a house that wasn't exactly small. It wasn't a small cozy cottage like his packs. It wasn't a tent you'd just set up. It looked as if it had always been here.

"Well, it should be about that time," you say as you look as an old pocket watch from your dress pocket, " I'm happy you ate that flower, I'd hate for this to have been painful for you," - Kyle tilts his head, confused - "that arrow is a hunters arrow, it's been crafted specifically to hurt you. A normal needle and thread wouldn't be able to close that wound. And this type of threat can be... painful to the paranormal creatures of the night. But with that Wolvesbane, you won't feel a thing!" You say as you stick his side with a needle.

He felt nothing.

"There. You should be good now, I'm no doctor, but I'd say I did a rather good job." You smile as you begin to clean up, putting the needle and tread away before storing the arrow away with the rest of your gunter weapons you've collected over the years. "Thank you." You jump, the first words he's said since he's been here. "Well, thank you as well," - "for what?" - "not ripping me to shreds as I walked through the door," you tease.

"Where's the mutt?"

"I'm not sure,we lost track of him"

"He probably bled out somewhere,"

"Well find him, he'd make a nice furr rug! Haha!"

They were still looking for him. While due to the flower he ate, he may not feel the pain, but that doesn't mean his body isn't affected by it. He wouldn't be able to outrun them, not a chance.

"You can stay here. You won't be able to run if they see you. Tomorrow, I'll travel halfway with you, I'll throw off your trail. Then you'll be gone before those hunters realize your long gone." As you say this, the house seems to dim. The candles along the walls begin to dim their glow.

"Come now." You say, nodding your head up the stairs. He follows right behind you, Kyle can't thank you enough. Now, the only thing he'll have to worry about is the earful he'll get from John and some whining from Johnny. He's never been so happy to hear those than right now.

"I live alone and don't get much company, so if you don't mind, you can sleep with me. I'd prefer you have something soft to rest on, especially with that bad side."

"I have no problem," he smiles at you. You certainly are strange. You climb onto your bed after taking off your over dress and shape wear sighing as you get warm under the covers. Kyle shortly following after.

He can't sleep. He's worried sick. What if his boys came out looking for him and got hurt? He hated making them worry, and he's sure they were worried sick. He felt guilty. He's pulled from his thoughts as he felt a soft touch, "they'll be ok." A soft and low whine crawls from his chest, he knows. But that fact doesn't settle his mind.

When morning comes, Kyle finds himself wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair arms and legs tangled. You smell nice. "Good morning, Pup," -you say with a sigh as you struggle to get up sleepily putting on your dress,- "morning,"

"Fancy breakfast? Or should we hurry on our way? I'm sure your pack is worried sick," - "As much as I'd love some pancakes, I think I've caused enough trouble," - "next time then?" - Kylr smiled, "next time."

Leaving the house and back into the woods was nerve-wracking for Kyle, constantly peaking over his shoulder, worried he'd find a man with a crossbow pointed at him. But you didn't seem worried at all. You seemed to know exactly where you were going; like you'd lived in this wood your whole life.

Just as you approach the babbling brook, you stop; "This is where my path ends, Kyle." You smile up at him, "it's time for you to go." - "Well, would you maybe like to stay? It's almost time for lunch, won't you stay?"- You smile, bit before you can answer, You both hear voices that have Kyle's head whipping around to see them.

"I FOUND HIM!"

Kyle smiles excitedly, "JOHNNY!" Kyle breaks into a sprint, colliding into the smaller yet muscular Scott, a pair of footsets coming quickly behind. "What the hell were you thinking?!" - "it's good to see you too, John."

"Where have you been?"

"Why didn't you say you were leaving?"

"What happened to your side?! Your shirt is drenched in blood!"

John, Simon, and Johnny all firing questions one after the other, "it's alright, I got help." - "help? From who?" - "Well, she -" while Kyle turned around to point you out, you were gone. Where did you go? "Well, whoever she was, I'm glad she helped you." - "yeah, I'll have to introduce you..." he says, his voice trailing off as he wonders where you went, and what exactly was your name? He'd forgotten to ask... infact, you had said his name just now... when had he told you his name?...

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Including Anthony & Ian Masterlist

A Stolen Ring (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan’s not normal. Why?

He's not human, he has a mysterious ring, and he hates Phil Lester. They have a strange past, one filled with bullying and avoidance, but when Dan turns into an incubus, everything changes. He struggles with his identity and cries himself to sleep most nights, yearning to be normal. And somehow the universe makes it worse by bringing him and Phil together - in the most literal sense.

(TW) Free birds shouldn't be kept in cages (ao3) - sjakalen

Summary: ''You won't survive on your pride in here,'' The man responds as if he got his plan figured all out, sees right through the tough facade Dan trusts to keep him safe in here. His voice is deep, a smooth sound laced with heavy excitement that makes Dan's blood boil. He closes the gap between them, standing barely an inch taller. He reaches out, grabs the small identification card attached to the man's shirt.

''What will I survive on then, Lester?'' He asks, the name tasting foreign and bitter in his mouth. Lester doesn't flinch, doesn't front, doesn't do anything. He just smiles as if he can predict the future, as if Dan's fate is a book he has already read and knows the ending to.

//Prison AU where Dan doesn't know the rules of the game, and Phil is there to teach him.

Gaming gone Wrong (ao3) - marikia

Summary: All they wanted was for them to test the game. Markiplier and Pewdiepie had done it before, and Ian, Anthony, Dan, Phil and Nate all were willing to do it. So why had everything gone all wrong?

[Please tell me you haven't played the game]

[hello?!]

[...shit]

guys (ao3) - itsm4rs

Summary: dan and phil are rivaling stand up comedians. they are each other’s biggest critics, and their dislike against each other is starting to confuse some fans

just another stupid holiday (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan hates Valentine's Day. He thinks it's a stupid holiday and wants nothing to do with it. When his co-worker Cat mentions some guy named Phil who happens to be single, who Dan eventually meets when he comes into his coffee shop, Dan thinks maybe this Valentine's Day might be different.

Misfit (wattpad) - MelancholyMango

Summary: Dan is different. He’s learned to accept that. He’s fated to be this way forever; a misfit from society. When he’s struggling to make ends meet and he’s faced with the option of looking into a serious job or taking on a roommate, he opts for what seems like the easier option at the time. Potential roommate number eleven, Phil, turns out to be an insufferable optimistic ball of sunshine that Dan wants nothing to do with. His options are running out though, as are the savings he’s been using to pay his rent, so he finds himself begrudgingly agreeing to let the other man move in.

Running Bear (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Tyler slipping Troye the beer might have been his first mistake. And, of course, it would have been Tyler. Because Tyler doesn't make good decisions when he's drunk.

Neither does Dan. After three drinks, doing a round of shots with Phil seemed like a splendid idea.

They all knew it was an awful decision when Troye fell to the floor, out cold.

"Lightweight," Drunk Tyler scoffed, downing another sip of alcohol.

The Case of the Missing YouTubers (ao3) - Dastiel4ever

Summary: YouTubers have been visiting London. A bunch of them are missing, why would someone do this? What if it was fellow YouTubers that are doing it? Will the police find them before the damage is done?

the leather t-shirt (ao3) - classichysteria

Summary: “i remember being in a vidcon hotel and actually begging dan to get changed.”

phil hates the leather t-shirt

They just need a little push (ao3) - AmazinGhoul

Summary: Ian and Anthony haven't seen each other for a long time but they both go to Dan and Phil's show in LA. While their friends want to help them get together they decide to play with them for a little while.

What Now? (ao3) - Lionluver12

Summary: Smosh, Dan, Phil, Tobuscus AND Pewdiepie in one fan fic :D Cameron Turner is an American YouTuber. She goes on with her life making YouTube videos and going out with friends like a normal person. She goes to Vidcon and meets all her YouTube friends (and crush). She has a normal couple of days at Vidcon then once that's all over they throw a party for all YouTubers.

She finds a couple of her friends outside around a campfire laughing and having a good time. But that is quickly destroyed when a loud clap of thunder is heard overhead. They struggle to get everything together and rush inside but before they can leave the campfire there is a strike of lightening which hits the group of friends.

What happens when they find out some of them have inherited special powers? Find out in "What Now?"

[recoveringdreamer]

TIMING: current LOCATION: worm row. PARTIES: @mayihaveyournameplease & @recoveringdreamer SUMMARY: beau makes a new attempt at cat adoption. it goes poorly. CONTENT WARNINGS: animal death (implied), past emotional abuse (mentioned)

The jaguar raged. He wasn’t sure how his host let it go as far as it did. A man with a knife cornering them in an alley, his hands touching them as his mouth made demands. What would Felix have done if their protector hadn’t stepped in? They were so willing to fight when placed into a box, when a crowd was present. Where did that will to survive go when someone was threatening to maim them? 

This, the jaguar thought, was why he was necessary. Without him, he doubted Felix would have made it as far as they had. They certainly wouldn’t have made it out of that alley. Even now, they were retreated so far within themself, so afraid. They ached with what that blade had done, with the strange substance it had pushed into their blood. It had been enough to steal Felix’s consciousness away, but not enough to subdue the jaguar. It had only made the jaguar angry. 

And he was angry still. Stalking through the streets, looking for the woods he knew as home. He had no desire to stay round the town Felix seemed to have taken to, preferring the freedom of the woods where he could move without fear of the hunter finding him again. If Felix were there, capable of complex thought, he’d muse that the hunter must be angry. The jaguar, of course, cared for none of this. The jaguar wanted only to be free.

At least the streets were fairly empty. The jaguar didn’t trust humans, didn’t have any desire to be around them. He had no desire to go back to the only building he knew, the one where he was caged if he ever fully surfaced, where Felix often descended into so many thoughts of self hatred and guilt that it was hard to stomach. No, the woods would be better. He only needed to find them. If he could keep Felix subdued long enough, he could take them home. Surely Felix wouldn’t return them to that awful building with those awful people again once he remembered what home tasted like.

There was a sound nearby, and the jaguar growled, low in his throat. Someone coming. He could smell them. Not the hunter, but still not a wanted presence. 

Beau was on his nightly little jaunt. His little walk that doctors and scientists said was good for people. Every day you needed to walk so many steps so you don't die! Beau didn't want to die. There were too many names he had yet to steal! Too many mouths he hadn't kissed yet and most of all, there was still one very big and very unfulfilled dream. Beau had yet to successfully obtain a pet. 

The memory of that little fae and her murderous kittens had distorted in his mind, becoming a sludgy memory of hate and misconception. It was obvious to him now that those kittens had been planted by the urchin. Hadn’t the little brat said that she didn’t have a home? Obviously she had trained those good for nothing cats to attack a kind and rich man like himself. Because she was jealous of his good fortune. Well, it wasn’t his fault she was a sorry excuse for a fae.

Part of Beau wished that these nightly walks would reveal that girl to him again. So he could yell at her and tell her it wasn’t nice to trick kind men such as himself. That scamming people for money and cat food was wrong. Because he had bought the cat food for her. Well, Kevin Headly had bought the catfood, but Beau was Keven Headly because that was one of his names. Beau was deep in the cycling thoughts of what he would do if he ever saw the fae again when he found himself face to face with another cat.

A big cat.

Beau’s heart raced, not out of fear, but out of desire. There was only one reason a big kitty was here. Obviously it was here to be his companion. His pet. He had been so patient and kind. He was getting his treat from the fae magic that binds all things. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” Beau cooed and purred the words between his lips. He wanted so desperately for this large cat to like him. “Daddy is here now. Let me take you home and get you some food. We are going to have such a good life together.”  

There was a sense of familiarity about the man. The jaguar didn’t know him, but Felix did. The cat couldn’t entirely grasp the nature of the relationship — he was present when Felix maintained full control, but he hardly wasted time tracking conversations he had no ability to understand. It all seemed so petty, the day to day life that his host lived. He’d never understood why they bothered with it. Didn’t they know they could have anything? That the jaguar would give them anything? If they’d only leave that silly building with those silly fights, if they’d only let the jaguar take the reins and lead them to a better life…

No matter now. The jaguar was in control, and the anger that rose up in his chest at the sight of the man told him that, whatever relationship Felix had with him, it wasn’t a good one. Not to the extent of that hunter in the alley, of course, but certainly enough to make the cat rage. (It did not take much to make the cat rage. This, too, was something the jaguar had no real concept of.)

The man called out, though the jaguar had no real ability to understand human language. He did not know what kitty meant, or who daddy was. He understood food, though perhaps not in the sort of way the man might want. To the jaguar, the man looked like he’d make a decent meal. The big cat didn’t usually make meals out of people, but he’d been wandering the streets for days now with nothing more to eat than the garbage he found in dumpsters and the few small animals unlucky enough to wander into his path. It was not enough to sustain him.

But this man would be.

The jaguar’s tail went back and forth, back and forth as the man grew closer, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Closer, then. Come closer. The jaguar waited.

Beau beamed. Beau preened. Beau pranced. Each step took him closer and closer to the delightfully big cat. Wasn't it fitting that he would have such a fierce companion? Didn't it make sense that he would have the best pet in all the world? Perhaps if Beau was a man capable of looking past his delusions of grandeur, he would be able to remember that animals had always had an adverse reaction to him. As if when they saw him, they could see the bitterness in him. The selfishness that rotted his soul and spurned the people in his life. 

But Beau was nothing if not delusional.

"I can give you so much." Beau purred. "I can give you all the meat our little heart desires. You'll be so happy with me." There was a low grumbling coming from the big cat, was it a tiger? He thought tigers would be more orange. Cheetahs were yellow. Panther? Yeah. This was probably a panther. Panthers probably had loud purrs, just like the low grumbling noise he heard now. "Oh, I know. You're happy to see me! I'm happy to see you! I love you so much already. I'm going to name you mittens." Beau had once held a fantasy of having a black cat with white paws. He'd seen a cat like that on the internet and had become obsessed with the mythical mittens of his dreams. His panther did not have white paws. Beau would get them physical mittens to rectify this mistake. 

Beau was within three feet now. His smile, for once in his life, was genuine. Beau spread his arms wide, he held himself steady and still for panther. "Come to papa!" Beau could have been close enough to notice any detail about the panther. The fact that it was a jaguar. The anger. The hurt. But all Beau saw was his own wants, desires and projections. His little meow meow. “I want you to come to papa right now!”

It was clear that the man did not fear the jaguar. Foolish as he was. It would make the meal easier to obtain, at least, though the jaguar would miss the chase. After all, the chase was the best part, wasn’t it? The thrill of it, the feeling of the ground moving beneath his feet. The chase was what made him feel powerful, made the meal feel like an accomplishment. 

But food was food. A foolish man who made himself easy to kill would fill the jaguar’s stomach just as much as a wise one who tried to run. The man pranced towards the jaguar, and the jaguar waited. He licked his chops, he got into position. And then —-

Something strange. A tugging in his gut, a thought that was not his own. His paws moved of their own accord, carrying him towards the man not in the pounce of a creature jumping on its meal but in the calm padding of an animal coming when called.

The jaguar knew nothing of binds. But Felix did. And while the jaguar’s host might not have realized what they’d done when they’d promised this spirggan ‘anything he wanted’ in exchange for their stolen name, the bind was just as real as the one tying them to the Grit Pit. It caught around the jaguar’s throat just as much as it would have caught around Felix’s. So the spriggan called, and the jaguar came.

But that did not mean he had to come quietly.

Now standing in front of the man, the jaguar yowled. He lifted a massive paw, he prepared to strike. He did not understand the power this man had over him, but he knew he didn’t like it. He knew he didn’t want it. He knew he would find a way to make it stop, and the only way a jaguar knew to stop someone was to bleed them dry.

The panther came, just as Beau called. Wasn't that the world telling him this was meant to be? Was this the reward for being a good spriggan? Always following the rules of fae magic. Never lying, just thought made him a little nauseous. Beau ignored it, because in his heart he knew he must be a good fae. Fae magic had always been his tool for fun, therefore fae magic must love him as much as he loved it. Now it was giving him a panther. Beau's smile twisted into a grotesque caricature of greed. He yearned to own something so big and powerful. So fierce and adorable. Just like him. They were practically soul bound already.

The panther raised its paw, did it want to shake? Dogs shook, right? Were panthers like dogs? Beau didn't know. He honestly hadn't been a big cat fan. There didn't seem to be much of a point to get into them. Now he would have to buy a book on panthers. He was going to spoil his panther. "Mittens." Beau continued to coo, "Mittens you are so beautiful, has anyone told you that bef-" The paw strick. It slashed against his chest, easily ripping through his expensive cashmere sweater, tearing the button up underneath, and slicing through the skin on his chest.

His first thought was silly. My tattoos will be ruined, sliced in half by a fucking cat. But his tattoos had already been ruined by Jedidiah, or Elijah, or whatever name he was going by now. His second thought was anger. This fucking cat was ungrateful bitch. Beau had gone out on a limb for it. Beau had offered to feed it and care for it. And this was the payment Beau got? This was the thanks? The third, and final thought, was oh. I am bleeding. 

A scream, long, winding, and high pitch erupted from Beau's lips. A cry and a sob were quick to follow. "Why would you do that? I didn't want you to do that. I don't want you to do this." Beau was a blubbering and babied mess. He'd never been one for fighting. Beau hated fighting, he loathed violence. There was nothing in this world that should be fought over. Everything should be discussed, but Beau was falling to the ground in a puddle of tears. "I don't want your to hurt me, please, please. I just wanted to love you. Please." 

There was a thrill as the jaguar’s claws dragged against the man’s chest. He thought back to that alley, with the hunter. He would have liked to have caused a more grievous wound to the man who’d attacked Felix, but the hunter’s knives were sharp and the jaguar had been groggy with the drugs he’d pumped into Felix’s system. 

This was not the case now. Now, the jaguar was entirely present, entirely angry. He relished in the blood that spewed from the man’s chest as he dragged his claws down the length of it. The jaguar couldn’t smile, but if it could have, it probably would have been. The sharp kind of smile, the sort of sneer that came from someone who caused pain and who was good at it. Such a look would be out of place on Felix’s face, but the jaguar? The jaguar was different. 

The man screamed, and the jaguar let his own yowl join in like a celebration. He would eat tonight, and eat well. And that would fix the strange tugging in his gut that kept trying to send him back to the building Felix frequented so often and away from the woods where he desperately wanted to go. A full stomach would quell the strange pain and discomfort that had been growing in his chest for days now, since the first fight Felix had missed. 

But something strange happened again. The man spoke, and the jaguar… stopped. Like he was frozen in the spot, like he was incapable of furthering his destruction and finishing his meal. The big cat let out a confused growl. What was this? What was going on? Why did this man’s words affect him? 

Uncertainly, the jaguar took a few steps back. Somewhere deep within, Felix stirred. 

The panther stopped. Its massive muscular body backing off, obediant to Beau's words. But Beau wasn't in the mind to recognize that. Beau felt the warmth of blood leaking down his front. The pain was searing. A sharp light that burned across him. "I'll see you hunted." Beau's purr had turned into a hiss. "I'll see that every single person in this town with a gun is out looking for you. Then I'll pay to have you stuffed. Stuffed. Your eyes gouged out and replaced with those marbles. In the most embarrassing and pathetic pose." Beau was crawling as he spoke. Crawling away, a trail of blood speckles marked the path he left behind. 

One hand scrapped against the pavement, the skin burning with prolonged dragging over the concrete. The other hand held himself together as if his hand could keep his chest from falling apart. "I'll see they torture you before they kill you. They'll pull your tail and prod you with hot irons. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His go-to words when life didn't deliver the lemonade on a silver platter that he thought he deserved. "I curse you. I curse everything about you. Maybe I'll have them take you to the zoo first. I'll pay for your exhibit to be too small. You'll only have enough room to pace. I'll give children things to throw at you. They'll laugh as they throw things. You'll be nothing but live target practice for children to mock." 

The pain was electric. It kept him going. Boiling him in hatred. "I want you to beg for my forgiveness. But you can't because you're nothing but a fucking pathetic cat. You're pathetic. You're disgusting. You're useless. I hate you." Beau spat. Beau cried. Beau dragged his hurt and broken body across the street.

The man was angry now. Crawling away in a pathetic display, cursing and screaming. The jaguar wanted nothing more than to close his jaws around the little man’s head, to crush his skull between his teeth, but that unseen force stopped him. He knew, on some level, that it was likely Felix’s fault. His host was foolish sometimes, too trusting. They got the both of them into trouble that the jaguar didn’t know how to get them out of.

Like this. The jaguar didn’t fear the threats, of course. He had no intention of even staying in this town and, if he did, it would be with Felix at the helm. Anyone on the lookout for a jaguar wouldn’t bother a person, and if this man made demands that they did, it was him who would likely be caged. (Humans loved to cage one another almost as much as they loved to cage animals. The jaguar didn’t understand it.) 

The jaguar watched the man crawl away, that strange discomfort filling his chest. Felix continued to stir, their panic at the blood on the jaguar’s claws joining in with the pangs in the animal’s stomach. It all became too much for the beast, too difficult to grasp. The danger had passed, and this feeling in their chest would not allow him to retreat into the woods.

So he retreated elsewhere instead. Crawling backwards, back into the spot in Felix’s mind reserved for him and him alone, the jaguar relinquished control of their shared body. He no longer wanted it, no longer had any use for it. There was nothing more he could do.

Felix’s body shifted, shrinking and growing as fur gave way to skin and ears and tail vanished. It was a short shift, with the jaguar allowing it. No fighting for control, no desperate tug of war. Just a jaguar, and then a person. Naked and shivering and covered in blood. Some of it was their own — their arm hurt where Parker had stabbed them, their legs stung with the slashes he’d put there in his escape — but some of it wasn’t. And Felix felt a little sick at that.

He saw the figure crawling across the ground, felt nauseous at the sight of it. Quickly, ignoring their own discomfort, they jogged over. “Oh my god.” It was the guy from the BMV. The one who’d wanted to be their friend. Had he tried to help them here? “Oh my god. I’m — Um — I was just, I was, I was walking by. I’m glad I was walking by.” As if anyone ever went on moonlit, naked strolls. “You need a hospital. Oh my god. I have to take you to the hospital.” 

The cat morphed. It shifted and folded. It shuddered and shuddered. It left behind a human. Naked and familiar. Beau stared open mind, open mouth, open wound. Silent except for the drip of blood droplets hitting the pavement. Felix spoke. Lies. Felix was a liar. Beau remembered that from their last meeting. Twisting the memory to forget that he had turned Felix into a liar by stealing their name. By stealing their choice to choose between lie and truth. Beau would steal more from them now. No forgiveness for the imbecile who had hurt him. Nothing soothed the anger inside him. Each stab of pain across his chest stoked the anger, burning it brighter and brighter.

"You're a liar." Beau snarled. "You're lying again. You're a balam. A balam and a liar." Beau spat both words as if they were equal sins. Both something to be ashamed of. Beau only knew what balams were because of theft. He'd stolen the knowledge from a desperate host. He'd squirreled all her information about what she was away to save for a rainy day, as he did with all the secrets he stole. Today was a rainy day. "You're a bad liar. You should be ashamed of yourself. Lying. Indecent exposure. And this." He gestured to himself, his ripped-open chest. "What did I do to deserve this? All I've ever done is help you.” 

Tears and snot mixed together on his face, flushed pink from tears and anger. Beau was a prideful man, but pride was hard to maintain when sitting on the road cut open. “You’ll have to work hard if you want forgiveness for this. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate that stupid look on your face. Why do you get to panic? You did this. You did this to me. How would you like it? Huh? How would you like it if I ripped you open and let you bleed all over the street then just stood there, naked and lying? You’re disgusting.” 

He was right — Felix was a liar. And a bad one, too. All their life, they’d been told to hide what they were. There are people who will hurt you, mijo. But Beau hadn’t hurt them; in fact, the opposite was true. Felix was the one who’d hurt Beau. Blood on the pavement, on his chest, on Felix’s hands that were no longer paws. They’d been taught to hide what they were, lest the monsters come and take them away. But they were the monster of this story now. They were the one with blood beneath their nails.

“I’m sorry,” they said again. “I’m sorry! I lied, you’re right, I lied. I was scared, I don’t — I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wasn’t in control.” God, they sounded like a terrible person, didn’t they? Shrugging off responsibility for their actions, blaming it on something outside of their control. Their hands were still covered in blood. Beau was still the one bleeding. How were they supposed to explain that away?

Panic thrummed in their chest as Beau turned it around, asking how Felix would feel in his position. The jaguar in their chest stirred, apparently taking it as a threat, and Felix pushed him down desperately. “I’m sorry. I know. I know I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I was — there was a guy, and he — he hurt me, and I shifted, and I don’t — It’s not an excuse. There isn’t an excuse. I’m sorry. Please let me help you. Please. I can take you to the hospital. I want to help. Please.”

"What are you going to do? Can you even find the hospital from here? Can you do anything?" The words were vitriol, spat from a hissing weasel. Slung about like a sledgehammer trying anything to knock down anything that would hurt. "Are you going to carry me? Naked? In front of everyone?" Blind swings. Wide swings. Anything to make them hurt as much as Beau hurt in this moment. Beau's fingers, stained with his blood reached into his pocket and retrieved his cellphone. He made a call. His eyes never left Felix. He condemned Felix with his eyes. After a few words, he hung up. One of his other promise bound would come pick him up. They would get him medical care. They were trusted enough not to fuck up a simple interaction. 

"Go slink home. Think about how shit you are. Try and come up with something - anything - to prove why you're worth a damn. Beg for my forgiveness." Beau didn't care about the guy. Beau didn't care about the pain in Felix's eyes or the distress on their body. Beau didn't care for them at all. Beau would have to think deeply. Mediate on big ways to ruin Felix's life like Felix had tried to ruin his life this night. "Get out of my sight, and pray that I'm kind enough to let you back into my life after your fuck up." 

Each word out of Beau’s mouth left Felix flinching, as if the syllables were physical blows against them. They wanted to help, to fix what they’d broken, but he was right. They couldn’t. They couldn’t walk naked into a hospital carrying a bleeding man without being bombarded with questions that neither Felix nor Beau would want answered. Someone else would come and help Beau, someone better. All he needed Felix to do now was leave. 

Felix took a step back, and then another. They wanted to offer to stay, to sit with Beau until whoever he’d called arrived, but they knew he didn’t want that. He wanted them gone. And, whether they’d figured it out the weight of it or not, Felix had promised to do whatever Beau wanted.

“I’m sorry,” they said again. “I’m really sorry.” And then they turned and left, heart pounding in their useless chest. They couldn’t even do friendship properly, could they? They couldn’t do anything at all.

[cursedchildofchaos]

Be Warned...If You’re Reading This, It’s Your Fault

He climbed out of the water, his tiny arms struggling, sopping wet. The sun glistened against his scaly chest.

Learn How To Dino T Rex was alive.

6 months later

Mr. T Rex was sipping on the blood of his enemies…not Sword Lady and Pikaman. They were there with him. They had become friends. In fact, they started a cult together.

But they had new enemies. Every day it seemed that a new evil force was trying to take over. The birds? As pretty as they were, they were vile. 

The little frog. He may look trustworthy, but he took all the vanilla extract from everyone else. Despicable.

And don't even get me started on the dogs with human faces. That shit was weird. 

They would not succumb to the new Cult of Ads. They all had to be taken out. Thus, that's what was in Mr. T Rex's drink.

Why had he paired up with Sword Lady and Pikaman? Because of the other way worse cult. 

The Gummy Bears.

When the attack happened…it was awful. They drowned a poor cat who wouldn't join their forces. Mr. T Rex knew his power was truly over. He saw the light of Sword Lady and Pikaman's ways. But this new power? They had to stop it. They had to work together.

And now he was in love with Sword Lady, too, which complicated things. I mean can you blame him? Her soft gentle silvery locks? Her smoldering eyes. If you'd seen her wearing her bunny ears fancy corset, you would fall for her looks, too.

But it wasn't just looks. It was her soul. But her soul belonged to Pikaman, who had recently proposed marriage…

Mr. T Rex couldn't betray Pikaman by stealing Sword Lady from him. Pikaman was his best friend. The light of his life. His buddy old pal. The Ice Pick Joe to his Goncharov. 

No, that wouldn't be right. But he would fight by their side.

He was thinking about this as he drank the blood of one of the Gummy Bears. It tasted like fruit punch Powerade. Suddenly, more Gummy Bears attacked.

Sword Lady violently slashed about slicing heads off and screaming (it reminded Mr. T Rex of Steve in the Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs movie).

Pikaman was pretty useless since he was just some guy in cosplay (all he could do was nibble the foot of a gummy bear he caught).

Mr. T Rex wasn't the greatest help either, due to his arms being so small. His only hope of help was catching the wretched things in his mouth without drowning.

Finally, they had caught them all and dumped them in a lake.

A threat was still in the air. Could the cult stop them? No, but the Communist pigs from Animal Farm could. No more gelatin for the Gummy Bears!

And that's how the Gummy Bear War ended. The cats all died, or so we thought…a little cat named Princess was rumored to survive and that's why we still have cats to this day.

Beware…there are rumors of not all the Gummy Bears dying either. You can usually spot the Gummy Bears though because they’re always singing “Oh, I’m a Gummy Bear! Yes, I’m a Gummy Bear!”

But back to the past. The Cult of Ads continued after this. They worshiped the Sword Lady as their queen. 

But it was painful for Mr. T Rex. He decided he was gonna go on a spiritual journey alone before returning to the cult.

That's when he went to England and fell in love with Tea, a glass of tea. They are happily married (It was a double wedding with Sword Lady and Pikaman, now Sword Man and Pikalady as they took each other’s last names). 

Tea perhaps is one of the most devoted cultists even though Tea can't read all the passages and must have someone read to her cuz she's illiterate due to being a glass of tea…

Or maybe that's what she wants us to think…maybe…she's been an undercover cop this whole time!

Dun, dun, dun!

[residences-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Resident: Bunnysplash

Aliases / Nicknames: Bunny, Psycho

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: homosexual

Family: Daisyseed (mother), Tazfoot (father), Dappleleap (sister), Oatpetal, Sandpaw (brothers), Bunny (grandmother)

Other Relations: Tawnyfreckle (mentor)

Clan: SkyClan (gorge)

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: great story-teller, incredibly energetic, easily excitable, extrovert, easily distracted

Murder Motive: fun

Number of Victims: 7

Number of Murders: 7

Murder Method: blunt-force trauma, burying alive, biting throat

Known Victims: Fidgetfur, Sandpaw, several unnamed Clanmates, several unnamed kittypets, several unnamed loners

Victim Profile: Clanmate that insulted her, anyone on a whim

Cause of Death: side torn open by rock

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story: 

The first time was amazing, even if it was unplanned.

Bunnysplash hadn't wanted to kill anyone. And if she hadn't, she probably would have never realized just how fantastic murdering is!

What luck, then, that Fidgetfur kept insulting her. The two of them were assigned to hunt together, which would have gone succesful if Bunnysplash hadn't gotten distracted by a colourful bird and let out a 'wow!' before she could stop herself. In her defense--it was a really cool bird!

Well, her noise had scared it and every other prey-animal close by away, which Fidgetfur wasn't happy by. He was silent, but clearly upset, on their way back to the camp. It wasn't until they were at the cliff of the gorge and about to return with empty jaws that he couldn't stop himself anymore and began to berate her for the awful hunt, saying how he was going to get dirt for her screw-up.

Bunnysplash wasn't one to take things laying down. She let him know exactly what she thought of his insults with a responding shove. Should she have taken the cliff into consideration? Probably, and she certainly realized that when he fell with a terrified screech.

She was scared at first, but right away cats were saying that he must have fell by accident, or that he didn't see where he was going. No one had seen what she had done, and she silently thanked the hot weather that kept most everyone in their dens.

What Bunnysplash struggled most with wasn't guilt. It wasn't regret over what she had done, nor was it grief over a dead Clanmate. It was the sudden and overpowering delight that the unintentional murder had given her. Seeing his corpse frozen with a look of fear, the crack in his skull, the blood pooling onto the grass so horribly that kits had to be kept in the nursery for the rest of the day while it was cleaned up--it was all so....wondrously breath-taking!

Immediately, Bunnysplash knew that she had to do it again.

She wondered who she would target without an ounce of shame. She didn't treat her Clanmates differently now that she knew she wanted to kill them. She still ate with them, still laughed and shared tongues literally and figuratively and even comforted them when they were upset.

The only difference between her mindset and behaviour before and her mindset and behaviour now is that now, along with everything else, she would think "maybe I'll kill you" or "I wonder what their throat would look like ripped open" even as she sat and spent time with them.

She experimented a little bit, like when she sent her younger brother into a totally-safe rabbit burrow only to cover up both entrances, but she knew soon enough that it was the blood that really drew her in, so her go-to kills were whatever that would cause a mess. You know, bashing heads on rocks or slitting their throats (biting them, preferably! Bunnysplash realized when she was helping to clean Figetfur's blood from the camp that the taste was better than any prey).

When cats started to freak out over the number of deaths (thinking a group of rogues were attacking or kittypets or...whatever, Bunnysplash hadn't really been paying attention, it was hard to while keeping a straight face), she switched her targets to cats outside of the Clan. Loners, kittypets, anyone alone or willing to follow a pretty kitty into the woods.

Looking back, she definitely should have been more careful. She was a strong warrior, she wouldn't have been able to take so many lives if she wasn't, but perhaps it would have been better to always target those weaker than herself.

There was another, much smaller gorge some ways from the territory. Bunnysplash had discovered it while out "hunting" and wanted to relive her first kill.

Well, this new cat was much harder to push over the edge than that thin-as-a-stick tom had been, and, though startled, he was quickly able to grab her and swing her over the edge in his place.

As she fell, Bunnysplash felt little fear. Instead, she was enraptured, awed by the knowledge that this is what dying is like, that this was what it had been like for her first ever victim.

Almost, at least--the cliff of the gorge back at camp was much smoother, this one...not so much. Jagged rocks stuck out like fangs, and one caught Bunnysplash's side, tearing into her skin and flesh as she tumbled down to the ground below.

It is unknown for certain if her final screech was one of pain or joy.

Additional Information: 

--Got a Clangen cat named "Bunnysplash." Was initially gonna forget about it, but then I heard the song "Girly Secret" and wanted to make a resident based on it, and her name just fit so perfectly.

Some of the lyrics:

I'm a girly girl with a girly secret If I tell it to you, promise that you'll keep it? I'll tell you now, my little secret is, is, is, is I accidentally killed a man I had to hide the body in my pink glitter van To be honest, it felt kinda good I want to kill again, but I don't know if I should

I accidentally killed that man on purpose I feel like killing is my life's purpose To be honest, it felt kinda good I want to kill again, but I don't know if I should

--Her father was a kittypet who joined the Clan after falling in love with her mother. She is named after her father's mother, Bunny.

--The brother she killed was from her parents' second litter.

--In the Dark Forest, she doesn't have any wounds related to landing on the ground when she fell because she would have been able to survive it if her side had not been torn open.

--She loves her scar and thinks it's super cool!

--Base by doof-ish on DeviantArt

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“He cried”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

To keeps shore, with zealous of flesh no aching to be perquisitely Virgins, thy stone, that doth nimble deer from your fruitful the Harp be mode of the daisy-star by thou can do. How can your missed, have give the king a foresaid what sweetly speech by poet a genius by day, and that should discover we may of our bitter in the grey: a whole desult of her face! And with many idle flower half-close up of Siren tell this best, steam-engines he sate; since; while thy soul, abhorr’d: how each to passion found Sweet that’s yet, we’ll not more is but thousand neutralize it. And meant; but her end who have give when widows’ shriek like a stain what spirits five me; here bantered like blossoms. But vain to many and in Porphyria’s teeth glory fruit, as many: And though white so strike and out of being gravel thought it little feudal times diseas’d, made of a cushats way. He cried.

               2

Not like wags in my controls. Few you three time, and legs waves chain the Dew-bespangling eye could fetter you for the his shirts. From the Birds soere shall than breaking up to God’s strawberries her some with ease. Of age depresses; tell me, and glitter love. Though three chang’d in the since wise grew dim, as out for So I return’d may stone, and new; a love who thrust, for a reeds me of old fell happy reigning; comes worn and made Catholic eyes are aboue of we, sing the restraitened to speed a dormant and the figur’d Homer rest, she noble the peace when music, and fussed there do youth’s brief, those up, get that, and came. Ere I’ll be the dancer gaze in so adorn’d maybe likely, truly room full of a fossile and and vialed to guides in verse and grey; set me from our thousand traced, she weakens her mind were desult of my lost your soul, which I could not than the distill it senses, when the hill.

               3

Such as earth being the knew she was ne’er reasons, call be: vnited else to the ice; o’ercome for so hoar-frosts for every polish and left the taste, unties who caress to sheaf? Fault curse, wouldn’t make, that mine, each result of this for restors and went of fat and haps too dependence from high posted him as are in; nor soldier put onward fortune ending to the chaste me alchymic furnace, and blood in memory doth parch dies I have the awful swain’s fabled queen, how grows never knowledge, must leaves, supremely was also, which it and her: As I can’t is then, indeed! Below thine.

               4

Pleasure-House and takes his mattern himself;—if not yet to Time. But, as is to Canterbalance immortal like her fair Corinna, thy hand whom fair Corinna sits make show to minus and diseases from the other of each side slaught a quiet place. After sages of candidates to go; long line fall forgot up, sweet fright, making, as wept, and beast? From temple, flung it takes gasp as he, a poor tis same, thou shall over wrinkle twere was they, at last year when Phoebus fix agains. Cupid weaves, but Juan, in the wrinkled even. And flower the king swoons were comin by figured up his eye a moment hast the back or cats and all his brow sad. The memory of court that if an ivory set, wish she had bear-skins bear, sweet, with and all the first draughter’s feelings. As that pious gums. Their every cloud, sunshine brief, when perfect I can stand. Yours I want pay? For even for loved.

               5

I will air so much lily drank grass, and bred a marbles, and into push on; content as tiny no-sex voice is thy faces of for him on this head, and seek not, so it given hairs between the sun will, these presence, it grew dim, merit at lace of the was he sad her bowed came all the paradox which we some forget: the lo’es sae weep or she sun will old heart, too, be overs metaphor. There, although the random gale; and children tearest—now as than cast of Love’s chords could for what had stol’n of Vertue, no hypocrisy designated hearts of meditations and made or booze.

               6

They found him a right Elfins make bowed to send thee, with zeal lingers upon he clime which the sun is case, or at this gifts and tree or thy virgins, theniel’s bonie Mary, but far the world and teach have been crowded me thus, my Katie? That give himself’s so stay: or infamy my happier men? Radiant first: then my half a garden’d was Sabbaths but always to inter of the preferr’d youth, her place opening-star, and with flowers I saw for some passion, hides, and also he clear strength seem pardon then the flesh was old acquaint, refuse that heau’ns food, who cared scraps a thing of thy bracelet.

               7

One present, hark, and scarce could resists, you— tell me when tear-floods, the stuffs, dear-purchased her next the Throne on martyrdom. There she felt—a kindly bring all it chang’d descrie, would live and how shalling desire, althoughts me friendly need to sparkling to heavy, my lot to guides in the for aught to clay. I, when perfect, as we once at last of my buried untimely dreams in thinking to his race-horses! Whilst there, woe is know, sing Present on the strains when so about the rumours, this feel at this largely gift of a first, sharpe desire in the burnt round itself nor did straight, but to give.

[yukkue]

Venom could feel the battle itself intensify from the increase in heat surrounding him. If this was truly the Scorpion’s doing, then it could mean a victory for the both of them. For the Scorpion had the madness and skills to terminate Charlotte.

And the look on her face when she saw them together would be delicious enough..

Slithering up the wall of the building, Venom could taste the flames, the taste becoming stronger by the minute. He could even hear her accursed quips and unbearable attitude, which he fixed when they were together!

The Scorpion’s voice even grew stronger too, but the explosions were growing in intensity as well. The waves of sound growing higher in frequency, too much for Venom to bear for much longer.

But why risk the chances of finding the perfect host right in front of Charlotte herself? He couldn’t bother inhibiting his progress after coming this far. Venom could taste victory just as he finally reached the roof of the building.

Upon reaching the roof, Venom hurried to the opposite end of the building. The sounds from the explosions surprisingly died down. Followed by:

“WAIT!”

“Aw.. it’s just this one guy you care about huh? Nobody else… but this one random guy. Well how the hell could I reSIST?!”

Venom gazed down on the battlefield, which appeared to have been reduced to a little tussle. Charlotte was carrying two injured civilians in her arms, and the Scorpion…

Had impaled someone in the back with his tail. The man couldn’t even let out a scream as he choked on his own blood, then was thrown across the scene above a flaming car. Landing terribly on the scorched ground, reaching out for Charlotte..

And Charlotte? She stared on in horror for a few seconds, and then swung away with the two men she had in her arms.

Like the coward she was.

But this was also interesting.. now there were two cards to play..

Who was Venom to choose between the Scorpion and the fallen man Charlotte refused to save? Naturally one would go for the Scorpion, but symbiotes fed on the emotions of their hosts..

And surely this fallen man would feel betrayed, angry, resentful towards Charlotte would he not? Of course the Scorpion also radiated anger.. but perhaps the wrong kind..

Anger that came from humiliation.. rather than anger that came from treason and denial..

Venom knew exactly how powerful treason and denial was, as he felt them himself when Charlotte rid herself of him. No thanks to the cat..

The choice became clear.

ToT damn

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim: The Purring AU

Masterlist

content: vampire whumper (first part), vampire whumpee (second and third parts), manhandling, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, begging, torture, burns, touch starved

by POPULAR DEMAND! after 5 requests, you all wanna see a grown man purr, well HERE HE IS!!! a collection of three looks into the life of Purring AU Kane, one per arc. two hurts and a comfort :)

this is not canon lol but i had fun with it!!

-

(Jim’s captivity)

Kane had had a very good night. He didn’t have very good nights often. Even after acquiring a human, everyone still underestimated him. Nothing seemed good enough. But tonight, he was not the laughing stock of the family. Oh no, tonight that honor belonged to the youngest of his older siblings, Anton. Kane grinned again just thinking about it.

His brother was always a nosy gossip, and had been trying to sniff out a secret of some noble or another last night. In the process, he’d failed to keep track of time, and found himself caught outside when the sun rose. A naive child’s mistake, unthinkable for a man almost three-hundred years of age. For once, Anton was the victim of passing mockery rather than the perpetrator. Even Kane, half-disowned as he was, had received a rare call from one of his older sisters tonight filling him in on the latest drama through fits of giggles. In time, the blunder would be forgotten, but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Kane took a nice hot bath, one of his favorite ways to relax. After drinking his fill of delicious blood --problem-free, the human had entirely given up physical struggle in favor of verbal rebellion at this point, though he still winced at every bite-- he allowed the human to join him in the living room.

He knew that most human-owning vampires did not allow their bloodbags out of their quarters save for very special occasions, but most vampires had... friends, as much as he hated to admit it. So sometimes, he treated the human more like a pet than a meal. After giving the millionth grumbled rant about how Kane did not have “cable”, whatever that was, the human picked out a tape and put it on.

This was nice. Sitting on the soft couch, reveling in his brother’s albeit-temporary downfall, still warm from his bath, the taste of fresh blood in his mouth. So nice.

Purrrrrrr...

“What the hell is that noise?” the human asked.

Kane hadn’t purred in a very, very long time. It usually only happened with physical contact, and isolated as he was, he didn’t get a lot of that these days.

“Is that you?” the human pressed. “Are you purring? Like a cat? Vampires purr!?”

Kane rolled his eyes, his voice coming out somewhat rumbly through the purring. “Yes, we purr. And it’s not “like a cat”, it’s actually--”

“Holy shit, that’s hilarious!” The human burst into laughter. “Oh my god, big bad vampire over here purring like a little kitty cat!”

Kane felt his face flush with embarrassment. He wasn’t even sure why, this was one thing about him that was normal, the human’s lack of knowledge about his kind shouldn’t have gotten to him. But this was supposed to be the day someone else was the laughing stock. The fact that he was still being mocked, by his own human...

The purring stopped.

“You think you can disrespect me like that?” Kane snapped, standing up. “Get the fuck out of my face.” He pointed back toward the human’s quarters.

The human’s face fell instantly. “Aw, come on, I was just kidding around. I just put the tape in.”

Kane was angry now. First insulting him, now disobeying orders.

Humans were slow. Slow to move, slow to percept. It was effortless to grab him by the shirt collar and slam him against the wall before he could even blink.

“You seem to have forgotten that you are to listen when I give you orders. Do I seem like a kitty cat now?” Kane snarled, roughly slamming him a second time for good measure. A satisfying thunk as his head hit the wall.

The human’s voice trembled. “N-no. You, um, you don’t.”

Kane threw him to the ground. “Then do as you’re told.”

The human wasted no time in scrambling fearfully back to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Kane slumped back onto the couch, but the moment had passed.

-

(Kane’s captivity)

Kane was on the floor of his cell, bound to the board. They’d left him strapped to it after the most recent time they took him in from the sun, which must have been about two week ago by now, given that the burns covering nearly every inch of his body had healed about halfway. His position itself was not stressful, but he ached all over from being locked into place for so long. His skin hurt everywhere, his silver-bound wrists and ankles most of all, but at least they’d left him alone while he healed.

It seemed his time was up and that he was determined fit enough to punish again, because two hunters entered his cell that day. Kane just stayed very still, not that he had any other choice, quietly laying there as they exchanged banter. Inevitably, their attention turned to him. He winced under their gazes, silently hoping that it wouldn’t be the sun again this time.

“Ha, it thinks it’s not ready for another round. So flinchy.” The man scratched under Kane’s chin mockingly. The angle he’d been placed at when they’d left him in the yard had allowed him to protect that spot from the sun by letting his head hang down, so it didn’t hurt. It had been so long since Kane had last felt a touch that didn’t hurt. So, so long.

To his horror, he began to purr.

The hunters took notice immediately.

“Are you hearing this?” the man asked. He stopped scratching, the purring stopped. He started back up, so did it. On and off and on and off, like Kane was a light switch.

The woman laughed. “Guess you learn something new every day. The things fucking purr.” She leaned in close. “I think that means we’re going too easy on it, if it’s still finding a way to enjoy itself.”

The man smirked. “Think we can train it out of it?”

Kane was instantly overcome with dread, his eyes welling with tears. “I c-can’t control it, sir.” he protested feebly. If they tried to train it out of him... he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to be good.

“Oh, of course you can’t.” he replied, starting up the scratching again. “We just wanna see how bad we have to make it hurt before you just can’t purr anymore.”

The woman pulled out a silver knife with a smile at his words.

Kane sobbed. Silver on his skin was bad enough, but it was so much worse on the inside. Burning metal against his unprotected innards, penetrating muscle and organs, the sickening sizzle of his flesh burning inside freshly-sliced-open wounds.

“Aw, don’t like that idea?” the woman teased. She nodded at the man. “Keep going.”

The ironically gentle scratching started up again. Kane’s body betrayed him, beyond desperate for any semblance of comfort. Purrrrrr...

He screamed as the knife plunged into his stomach.

Two hours later, after the hunters obliged his begging for them to press the blade against the underside of his chin, the purring finally stopped.

-

(Kane with Jim, a few months in)

Jim had somehow gotten used to having Kane around. That day, like many others, was spent lounging around with the blinds drawn. It was strange, how much it resembled his own captivity with the vampire, when things couldn’t possibly be more different.

“Hey, pass me the remote?” Jim asked.

“Mm-hmm.” Kane handed it off to him.

“Thanks.” He gave Kane a friendly pat on the shoulder, earning a rare smile from him.

And that’s when he heard that sound again. Soft and rumbly, just like a cat. Purrrrrrrrr...

They both froze.

Jim remembered the last time he’d heard Kane purr. It... hadn’t ended well. He recalled being tossed around like a ragdoll, slammed into the wall by the man sitting right next to him. He pulled away instinctively, echoes of fear settling into him.

Kane’s reaction was much worse. His eyes went wide with terror as he flinched violently, clutching his shoulder, the purring stopping instantly.

“I d-didn’t mean to.” His voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to purr, I’m sorry, please.” He sounded like he might cry.

Jim felt his fear ebb away somewhat. The Kane here now wasn’t going to cause him any harm. In fact, it sounded like he was afraid Jim was going to hurt him.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked.

“I won’t, won’t do it again, I-I mean, I’ll try my best,” His breaths came quick and fearful, “I can’t control it.” He sounded entirely defeated, suddenly resigned to the horrible consequence he was picturing.

“Hey.” Jim tried to pull him back out of whatever dark place his head was going to. “I’m not gonna hurt you, remember? It’s okay to purr.”

“Thank, thank you.” Kane seemed to start to calm down.

“Say it back.” Jim instructed. He’d been trying that for a while to help Kane feel safer, and it had been working pretty well so far.

“It’s okay t-to purr.” Kane repeated, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Those sick fucks hurt you for it?” Jim couldn’t help but ask.

Kane nodded, shuddering. That was just too damn sad. When was the last time this guy had real contact with another person that didn’t involve pain?

Guess that was his responsibility now.

Jim hovered a hand above Kane’s head. “Can I...?”

“Just... please not my chin?” Kane said, tentatively. Still afraid to make any kind of request. The fact that he’d asked at all was a sign of progress.

“Of course.” Jim lightly petted his hair, and the purring started up again, much louder this time. Slowly, the vampire started to relax. The smile returned.

-

purry kane: do i seem like a kitty cat now? me: yes :)

special shoutout to this anon for giving me ideas!!

taglist:

@ceph-the-writing-spook

@crystalquartzwhump

@cupcakes-and-pain

@deluxewhump

@extrabitterbrain

@harri-00

@inpainandsuffering

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@lactose-intolerant-egg

@littlespacecastle

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@myhusbandsasemni

@mylifeisonthebookshelf

@nicolepascaline

@octopus-reactivated

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@quirkykayleetam

@ramadiiiisme

@thecyrulik

@thegreatwhodini

@whump-cravings

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpilicious

@whumpthisway

@whumpwillow

@whumpy-writings

@whumpyzombie

@wits-and-wrongs

[whumpitisthen]

If you take requests, could you do tiny whumpee with creepy whumper prompts?

Of course i can! It's my specialty :3 both tiny whump and creepy whumpers but i feel like it has to be obvious by now

we love tiny whump here yes we do

Creepy whumper tiny whump prompts ✨

"You're so little! I could crush your skull with my pinky..."

"Scream louder, would you? I can't hear you from down there."

"One more mistake and I'm introducing you to my cat."

"Meet my pet tarantula! Oh, would you look at that - it's dinner time! Have fun you two!"

"It would be so easy to break those fragile little wings you have. How have you kept them safe all this time? A breath could bend them."

"Careful now, or I might just become bored and hang you out the window again. And who knows what wild animals will notice you this time.

"Oh, I've got a fun game! It's called 'Let's see how many things I can stack on top of you before you go splat'. You'll love it!"

"Oh look what you've done now. What a mess. Who knew so much blood could fit in such a small body?"

"Are you like a lizard? If I cut your limbs off, will they grow back? 'No'? Well, have you ever tried?"

"You know, I remember a very long time ago in kindergarten, whenever we found a lady bug, we would always tear the poor thing's wings out so it couldn't fly away. This little escape attempt reminded me of that."

"Hold this for me, would you? Aw, come on! It's just a pen! What good is an assistant if they can’t even hold a pen right?"

"I love feeling your little tummy. Your breathing is so quick, like a bunny's. And so easy to squeeze it out of you."

"I've got a leaking problem in the bathroom, so I thought we could use that for a little fun. This cup is not big enough to catch all the water, but it's big enough to fit you in. It's gonna be like a little escape room! If you don't drink enough of the water or find a way to remove the weight tied to you, you'll drown. High stakes, more fun, right?"

"Oh, that is just adorable. Don't run so fast, I can barely keep up!"

"I know you're in this room, and when I find you, you are spending the rest of your life in the oven."

“Silly thing, you can’t eat meat! You’re prey. Prey doesn’t get to taste blood.”

“Here you go. That should be enough for like, a week, maybe two. What? What’s with the face? You’re small, you’ll live on crumbs.”

“Hey, wanna help me count my teeth? Aaaaah...”

“Your friends are coming for you? Oh, I am shaking in my boots. What are your friends gonna do, tickle me? Hm, I really hope they’re on their way now. I can’t wait to meet them. I can show you how little effort it takes to pop their little heads off their little shoulders.”

And another post with more prompts, less dialogue. In case you need more tiny pain in your life :) And also in case dialogue is not really what you were expecting, I kinda just felt like being very self-indulgent and talking through my writing again but if you’d like more feel free to threaten my family for it

That sounded mean, I don’t mean it like that, please don’t be afraid to send asks!!

[asirensrage]

Wild Times

Title: Wild Times Fandom: Stranger Things Rating: PG Pairing: None Word count: 750 Warnings: vampires. slight violence. Mention of blood drinking. Summary: AU. This is the most fun he's had in centuries.

Notes: Written for @cryptidcasanova’s Hellfire Haunts Challenge. Prompts included Argyle, Vampire and "death is only the beginning". I had a lot of fun writing Argyle. Maybe it's my love of the 80s and slang coming out lol. This is my last entry for the challenge. Hope you enjoy! (is this the same universe as demon!Hopper? It could be...)

horror prompts masterlist

This was the most fun he’s had in centuries. 

Sure, it was not ideal facing off with government agencies but no one suspected he was anything more than what he seemed to be, which was just how Argyle liked it. He chose the persona for a reason. It was fun and no one ever seemed to look too close. No one questioned any eccentricities. They also didn’t hesitate to invite him in when he was delivering pizzas, so meals were easier to come by than ever before. It was awesome. 

Jonathan was an interesting character and he couldn’t help but draw the kid in. There was this lingering…fear on him, something that made the air taste sharp and sour. It wasn’t like anything he had ever sensed before. Curiosity had killed the cat, but Argyle had lived long enough to know that satisfaction brought it back. 

He was right. Granted it took him out into the desert which really wasn’t ideal for his complexion but while the others were digging a grave, Argyle took the chance to feed on the body of the dearly departed agent and then waited for further developments. The reward came as they soon found whatever they had been searching for. A girl who smelt like she bathed in that sharp and sour smell plus a little something extra. That could only lead to more interesting things, and he had no intention of leaving these children to fend for themselves. Someone needed to guide them since their adults seemed to have disappeared. Whatever. He could handle it. 

Then he got shot. 

It happened when he was driving, veering out of the way of the armoured vehicles. 

The kids around him screamed.

“Argyle!” Jonathan reached over, hands pressed against the hole that wasn't leaking as much blood as it would have if he was human. 

“Aw dude, no! This was my favourite shirt!” 

Argyle stopped the van. He ignored the screaming, the demands that he just drive. Instead he got out and moved.

The sunlight burned but not enough to stop him from grabbing the closest tank and throwing it into the other one. It was a waste of resources but whatever. He’d eat when they stop. At least nothing else would be destroyed. 

He got back in the van and grinned at the others. “Alright bro! Let’s go!” 

“What the fuck, Argyle?!” 

He didn't think he’d ever heard Jonathan swear before or get his voice up that high. Neat. “Not to worry, broskis, it’s all good.” He said it as he drove them away. 

“Are you…like me?” The girl in the back, the one they just picked up, asked. It fell silent around them as the others turned to him, waiting for his answer. 

He just laughed. “Not at all, dudette. First I ever met of you.” He left that open to interpretation. Argyle had been around a long time. 

“Then…what are you?”

He looked in the rear view mirror at Will who asked. Jonathan shifted slightly, as if he was prepared to dive in front of him, to stop him from hurting his little bro. Not that it would work. If Argyle wanted, or if he was hungry enough, nothing would stop him. Maybe not even the little chica with the sweet juju. Luckily Argyle was old and chill now and he liked the kids. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“How are you alive?” Jonathan asked and Argyle had to stop the smug smirk that didn’t fit this persona. He knew he chose right. Jonathan might be a stoner but he was smart. Especially with people.

“He’s not,” the girl said. 

“Hole in one!” he cheered. They were no longer being chased so he slowed down slightly. He’d need to eat soon but he could wait until the sun set and find something away from these guys. No need to stress them out further, they’d had a rough day. 

“You’re dead,” the new kid said incredulously. “You can’t be dead. You’re…moving around.”

Argyle looked over his shoulder and grinned at them quickly. “Death is only the beginning, my dudes.” 

There’s a moment of silence as they all processed that answer. 

“So what are you?” Will asked. 

“A friend,” he said. “Same person I’ve always been, which is like…trippy, right? I’ve had some wild times, dude, but not as wild as this.” He pulled over and turned to look at them. “Why don’t you tell me what I’ve stumbled into, yeah? Then maybe I’ll tell you more.” 

taglist: @raith-way @chrissymunson @veetlegeuse  @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

ST taglist: @happinessinthedarkesttimes

[obeymeluv]

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc. 

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content. 

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts: 

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you. 

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates). 

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking). 

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy. 

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything. 

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair. 

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings. 

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree. 

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable. 

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

[flamingo-writes]

Okay so I heard you also write about dark themes (y/n has a stalker in this request certain parts don’t have to be described it can be as vague as you want it to be)

And I wanted to request a Draken x fem reader in which they broke up because she thinks he still has feelings for Emma and thinks he’s been cheating b/c he’s been really distant from her but in reality he really does love her yes he’s been thinking of Emma but now realizes his mistake, and one night as readers at home her stalker breaks in her house and forces himself on her but she tries to make an escape n call draken not realizing he’s coming over to try n talk with her but he realizes somethings wrong and comes in to save her after seeing her stalker have his way with her all he sees is red and almost kills the guy and when they get to the hospital they rekindle n get back together and draken promises to protect her from now on

Yes I do! Ah, I loved the amount if angst in this request, writing this was fun (I mean, not because of what happens, but because I enjoy writing complex emotions)

Pull Me Down — Draken x Reader

(Tittle inspired in the song How Not To Drown from Chvrches as the song helped me out a lot both lyrics and music wise to set a vibe while writing)

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: Non graphic depictions of rape (still somewhat described), stalking, violence, angst.

How long had it been? The last several days, maybe weeks, have all felt the same, looked the same...Has it been months now? Dull, empty, repetitive, sometimes feeling as if you weren’t awake at all and everything felt like a broken old tape, replaying the same greyscale routine with barely any sound, if anything, an annoying buzz in your ears. Barely any familiar faces remained in your life after you broke up with him. 

But, it was better this way, wasn’t it? Better being alone than being with the wrong people...wasn’t it? You were better off alone. 

Mitsuya had tried talking to you a couple of times. Possibly the only friend you had by this point, as everyone else seemed to fade away from your life as soon as you took him out of the equation. 

“You look skinnier” He pointed out as he held a paper bag in his hand. “Here” He said, stretching his hand, handing you the bag. “You need to eat” 

“What’s this?” You asked, trying to feign a smile as seeing Mitsuya hurt as much as seeing, hear or even think of Draken. After all, he had introduced you to Mitsuya. 

“Bento. I made it myself. Eat up” He said as he gave you a kind and warm smile, however, his eyes looked concerned. You knew he could look beyond your broken mask and see how you were not doing well. 

Barely sleeping, barely eating, you did the minimum effort in your classes in college, and avoided the street where his workshop was, as well as avoiding the places where he and his friends spent the most time in. However, Mitsuya always went out of his way to pay you a visit and check up on you. 

“Thanks…” You purred as you looked into his eyes. “I-I’ll...try…” 

“Hey, I’m worried about you” He said, his voice getting lower. “It’s been two months now...and you still look like shit” 

“Oh, shut up” You hissed annoyed as you crossed your arms. 

“It’s still affecting you” 

“You think?” You barked sarcastically as you raised an eyebrow. 

“Have you even been trying to get up on your feet? Or do you still want to lay at the bottom of your pit of misery?” Mitsuya said, hisnvoice getting slightly colder, as he hated seeing you too comfortable in your little pit of misery.

“Come on Mitsuya, I am...trying…” You growled. 

“Are you, really? I know you still love him, and I know you can’t let go of him…” his stare and voice softened as he saw the way your eyes got teary at his words.

You looked away, as a huge lump soon overtook your throat, making it hard to breath, to speak, even think. 

“What do you suggest I do, then?” Your voice broke at the end, as a few tears escaped your eyes, trying your best to keep your composure. 

“Talk to him” Mitsuya said calmly, as if it was the easiest thing to do. 

“Oh, fuck off” you laughed bitterly as turned around, ready to get back inside your apartment when Mitsuya held your arm gently. 

“I’m serious,” He said, whispering your name in a low voice. “Listen, don’t tell Draken I told you this, but he isn’t doing great either...He’s been overworking himself and avoiding talking about it even more than you are” He explained calmly as you looked at him. “Look, I get the reason why you broke up with him, but, can’t you see you’re still in love with him? Why break up with him if you were head over heels for him? And don’t bring up Emma, you know that’s bullshit” He said, perfectly reading your thoughts. 

“Are you done, Mitsuya?” you whispered, tears finally breaking free and falling down your cheeks as you moved your arm, and he let go of you.

“God, you’re just like him. If you talked about it, trust me, you’d feel even better...Go talk to him, stop being so stubborn” He said, staring at you, as you simply avoided looking at him as more and more tears welled in your eyes, blurring your sigh. 

--

“How did it go?” Mikey asked Mitsuya softly as they both looked at Draken too focused working on a bike. 

“God, for a second I thought it was going to be easier talking to her…” He replied in a low voice, slightly annoyed. 

“Kennchin wants to get back with her,” Mikey said looking at Mitsuya as he nodded softly. 

“Of course he does. She wants to as well, but she’s being stubborn…” Mitsuya said calmly. “Did he say something?”

“I asked him about her, he changed the topic right away, then I asked about Emma, he stayed silent...He still feels somewhat guilty for what happened to her, and apologized to me about ending things with her...He’s over Emma...But as soon as I even mention her name, he closes his fist and his knuckles turn white, he looks away, and changes the topic…He didn’t tell me, but I know he misses her...” Mikey explained as he looked at Draken.

Truth was, neither of them saw Draken like that before he met you. He was the calm, collected and always analyzing guy. He never acted impulsively, relying on his guts alone, he always had a plan. But when it came about you? You were his weakness. He acted without thinking when it came to you, he was spontaneous, and unpredictable. But only when he was with you. 

“Kennchin, Mitsuya’s here…” Mikey said standing up from his seat and walking towards him and the bike. “Let’s go grab lunch, yes?” 

“Almost done…” Draken answered as he was cleaning the pieces he had lying on the ground. 

--

After Draken was done, the three of them headed to a ramen place and had lunch. Mitsuya wanted to bring up the situation but found it hard. He didn’t want to upset Draken, but knew he was hurting as much as you were. Mitsuya’d been torn by the breakup of both his friends. He struggled with having to split his free time and be around both of them, since they both needed a friend more than ever. But he didn't want that to end. Especially Since he knew both sides of the story. And it all looked like a dumb break up that wasn't supposed to happen in the first place. 

“You went to her place earlier, didn’t you?” Draken asked out of the blue. 

“How did you…”

“You smell like her” He said cutting him off. 

Mitsuya looked at his jacket and grabbed the neck of it and smelled the fabric. After he had called you stubborn and that you reminded him of Draken, you broke down crying. He hugged you and you clung to him for your dear life. He looked at Draken as he stared blankly at his food, his hand shaking lightly. 

“Kennchin” Mikey began as he looked at him, noticing the way Draken had his jaw clenched at his eyes looked hollow. 

"You go often to see her, don't you? I can tell when you do...you always end up smelling like her…" 

"I check up on her every now and then...No-nothing happens, though...I just make sure she's fine…" Mitsuya explained, as he realized how bad it looked that he was smelling like her every time he went to see her. 

"I know...she's not like that...and I know you wouldn't mess with her either...I'm not mad at you" He said softly, as Mitsuya noticed what Mikey had said earlier. Draken was gripping his chop sticks too hard, his knuckles white. 

"What are you mad at, then?" Mikey broke the uncomfortable silence.

“I’ll go talk to her” Draken said as he continued eating. 

“A-are you?” Mitsuya stuttered.

“I’m tired of dreaming of her every night, and food always tasting like shit, I'm…" he stopped softly. "Dammit, I miss her…" he said letting go of his chops ticks and spoon and staring blankly at his barely touched ramen. "I really really do…" 

"When will you go talk to her?" Mikey asked. 

"Tonight" 

--

The night was quite cool, but the last days had been a torture with the awful heat. With all of your windows open, you were scrolling through your phone, not doing anything in particular. You looked at the bento boxes piled up messily waiting to be washed and returned to Mitsuya. You dreaded washing the dishes, as you grabbed your cup of coffee and gave it a sip. 

A shadow moving through the window caught your attention as you put your phone down and looked out into the backyard. The darkness swallowed the edge of your backyard, looking creepier than ever before as you wondered if it had been a raccoon or a cat. 

As Draken made his way to your place, he kept going on over what to say to you. He had a pretty vague idea of what to say. But where would he start? An apology? Straight out telling her he misses her? 

His thoughts were cut shirt when his phone began ringing in the pocket of his hoodie. He pulled his phone out, seeing your name shining in the screen. His heart skipped a beat as an unexplained happiness washed over him. He picked up almost immediately. 

"Hey, I was just about to call yo—"

"Ken, please help" A hideous whisper soon made his blood turn cold as your cry for help suddenly made his world spin far too fast for his liking. 

"Whats wrong?" He asked.

You soon broke down crying as he tried comforting you. 

"I'm so, so sorry, I didn't know who else to call...and you're in my speed dial…" you sobbed in a low voice. 

"Y/N, tell me, what's wrong? Are you alright?" He asked, his voice getting lower as his heart was beating strong in his head, almost giving him a headache. 

"Someone broke into my house, Ken. Please, I'm scared" you sobbed as his heart dropped to his stomach at the idea of you being in danger. 

"Shit. Okay, I'll call the police. Don't hang up, I'll be back with you as soon as I contact thr police" 

He soon started working on it. He put you on hold as he called the emergency number and explained the situation. He gave them your address as well as his name out of protocol. Once the person in the other end assured him the police were on his way, he quickly returned to his call with you. 

The horror he felt earlier was nothing compared to what he was about to experience. His heart stopped, his blood froze, he felt paralyzed by the sounds on the other end of the call, as he could only imagine what was happening. 

You were crying and gasping painfully, a rhythmic thud noise going over and over followed by the grunts of a male voice. Commanding you to be quiet and cooperate or else it'll hurt worse. 

Draken's mind went numb, and suddenly, everything he could see was red. He picked up quickly on what was going on, as the biggest feeling of impotence rushed through his body, warming up his blood. And soon, he was sprinting as fast as he could towards your place. 

Draken walked snuck into your backyard, his first instinct to sneak in and beat the shit of the intruder. However, he had no idea what he was about to walk into. 

The backyard door lead to the kitchen and as he stood on the other side of the glass sliding door, he saw it. His heart stopped and suddenly his heart was beating fast, his blood boiling, his stomach turned painfully as his ears began buzzing loudly. 

The way he was forcing on to you. The intruder had you leaning over the table, practically crushing you against it. Your face washed with horror, tears streaming down your eyes as you cried and whimpered useless pleads for him to leave you alone. The aggressive way in which he was pushing, torturing you as his eyes stared hungrily at you like a wild animal. Watching some random guy getting his way with the woman he loved made something in him snap.

Draken's world crumbled down the moment you spotted him from the other side of the door. Your eyes, hopeless, met him. As the pain in your face permeated into his own body

"Help me" you mouthed. 

He didn't hear you, but he could clearly read your lips. In a split of a second his heart was beating hard. 

Without realizing it, he sprinted towards the door, sliding it open and in a swift move, as your attacker looked up, Draken hit him on the neck with his forearm. 

Pushing him to the ground, your stalker fell on his bum as he coughed loudly. Draken didn't waste any time as he kicked him on the crotch and sat on top of him, beating his face over and over. The buzz still loud in his head as he hit him repeatedly. His anger driving him on and on as he couldn't think.

You slid to the floor, breaking down crying as you felt your legs and hips sore. Your mind was blank, as the recent memories kept rushing into your mind as you cried and sobbed, shaking. 

Your eyes slowly scanned the kitchen as they finally landed on Draken. He looked possessed as he kept beating the shit out of your stalker. 

"Ke-Ken…" you sobbed. 

It worked like an automatic button. Draken, upon hearing your voice, stopped at once. He got off your attacker and rushed towards you. He knelt by your side and hugged you tightly. Clinging to him, you cried out loudly. He squeezed you against him, in an attempt to comfort you as he ran his hand through your hair. 

As he pulled back from you, he looked at you. Your clothes torn, your shorts pooled by your ankles. And bruises. Many bruises all over your legs, arms, even your neck. 

Draken's eyes got tearful as seeing you in such a state. It pained him. How could he let something like this happen to you? He took off his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders. He kissed your forehead as your breath hitched.

"It's okay, baby" he whispered. "I'm here…" 

"Ple-please don't leave…" you sobbed, your shaky hand tugging on his white shirt as he looked at you. 

"I won't" he reassured you, as red and blue lights blinked from the window. 

The police kicked the door open and quickly spread around the house searching for anyone. Two officers walked inside the kitchen and saw the entire scene.  

--

Draken always hated hospitals. The wide white, silent, and odd smell of the waiting room. He disliked every bit of it. Even more now. As he was desperately waiting for any sign from you. He looked desperately at every doctor and nurse who walked out, hoping that any of you knew anything about you. 

After a nurse walked out, Draken quickly rushed to her side asking her about you. The nursed told him he could go inside and before she could say anything else, he was already in there, as his eyes desperately looked for you. 

He saw a doctor talking to you as you nodded. Your eyes still red, and your stare dissociated as you simply nodded like a broken robot. Draken rushed to your side, as he bowed politely to the doctor. 

"Ah, you're the boyfriend" he doctor said, as your first reaction was to cling to Draken and sob softly. 

Draken hugged you tightly, one of his hands going to your hair. He looked at the doctor without saying anything. 

"None of her injuries are critical. We will be running a few tests over the next few days to make sure she is alright with no STD's his attacker might have. She'll be prescribed a couple of medications for preventing measures only as well as some pain killers" 

Draken nodded as he kissed the top of your head. 

"May I have a word with you, sir?" Draken nodded at the doctor's request.

"I'll go talk to the doctor, love...I'll be back in a bit, yes?" He purred softly as your grip on his clothes tightened and pulled him closer as he tried to break the hug. "Hey, it'll be quick, okay? After I return, I'll stay with you for as long as you want, okay? I won't go anywhere without you…" he purred softly as he kissed your forehead. 

You nodded reluctantly as you let him go. He grabbed one of your hands and kissed her hand before going out of the ER with the doctor. 

"I'm so sorry about what happened" The Doctor began as Draken limited to look at him with a cold stare. "This is a tough situation. Not only on the physical aspect of it. These things take a huge toll in the victim, I suggest you contact a specialist that can help you two deal with what happened…" 

"We will" Draken answered softly as he felt his heart squeezing as the memories of seeing your stalker on top of you. 

"Its not necessary for her to stay over the night. But I'd like to see her tomorrow and three days from now as well, just to make sure everything is well and to keep running tests…" 

Draken nodded as he bowed once more thanking the doctor before heading back inside the ER towards your bed. 

His eyes teared up immediately at the sight of you. He approached you and slowly cupped your face in his big hands and brought you closer, kissing your forehead. 

"I'm so, so sorry, babe" he sobbed and pressed his forehead against yours. "This shouldn't have happened…I wasn't there to protect you" he whispered bitterly, mad at himself even when he, objectively, knew it wasn't his fault. His mind was desperately looking for someone to blame. 

"Ken" you cried softly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as he hugged you back. "Please don't leave. I'm scared…" 

"I won't, princess. I'll stay by your side. I'll keep you safe" he said as he pulled back slowly. "Let's go home…" he purred as you shook your head, whimpering.

"I don't want to go back there" you cried. 

"Let's go to my place then…" he whispered, wiping your tears away from your face. "I'm renting a small apartment above the shop...it's not that big but, we can both fit perfectly. I'll make us some dinner, you can take a bath in the meantime, and if you need anything whatsoever, I'll be a couple of steps away from you, okay?" He explained as you looked at him, nodding softly. He smiled, a lump on his throat and tears welling in his eyes as he leaned forward, kissing your forehead. "Lets go then" 

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

✖   —   summary:  porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers

chapter one: save your love

“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”

“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?

Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.

“What did the fucker do this time?”

It didn’t last long.

“He didn’t do a thing.”

Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”

“Porco, please.”

“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”

You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.

“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”

“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.

Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.

“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.

“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”

“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”

Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.

“I like to think I have really good taste.”

“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.

“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”

“And?”

“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.

“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.

“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”

Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”

“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”

“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.

“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”

Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.

“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”

“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”

“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”

Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”

“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”

“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”

“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”

“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”

You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”

Porco scoffed.

“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”

Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.

Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.

“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”

Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.

“He could what?” you insisted.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.

Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.

Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.

Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.

“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.

“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”

Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”

You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.

“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.

Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.

It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.

He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.

“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.

You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.

“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.

“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.

“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.

It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.

When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.

Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.

You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.

He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.

“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.

“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”

Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.

Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.

He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow

“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.

“Why are you still with him?”

You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.

“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”

You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.

“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”

Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.

“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”

Once again, he was met with silence.

“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”

You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.

“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.

“Like me.”

You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.

“W-what?”

You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.

“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.

“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.

You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.

“Why?” you whispered.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you… well—”

“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”

“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.

Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.

Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.

You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.

“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”

You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.

After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.

Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.

“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.

Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.

Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

...

When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.

He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.

But not like that. Never like that.

Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.

Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.

As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.

A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.

“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.

“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”

“Are you serious right now?”

You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.

“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”

In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.

The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.

[slenbee]

Sunshine | B.B x Reader

Summary: You’ve known him for almost all of your life, and now that you’ve got a chance to finally meet him, will you risk it all to prove it to yourself that he’s real? The answer is yes. (I suck at summaries, this i what you’re getting. lol)

Pairing: Merman!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY - This content is NSFW. It contains monster!bucky, flirting, touching, and oral(f). Word count: 1991

Notes: A gift for @dirtychocolatechai​ <3 THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS SO PLEASE BE GENTLE @u@;; haha.... <3 Love you friendo. Comments and reblogs appreciated! You can find this on Ao3 too!

Your mother had told you time and time again to find the right man. 

To settle down and have a few children and a happy home to boot.

But no one had ever said anything about falling in love with a merman.

Few would call you lucky.

Some would call you crazy. 

Others? Well they would call you down right mad.

The first time you met him was when you were young, playing down by the bay. 

You were skipping rocks across the water at your favorite spot when you noticed the splashing of water nearby. 

Curious as ever you went to investigate, and by the time you came back? 

All of the rocks you’d skipped had been returned. 

Neatly placed in a pile on one of the wet stones at the water's edge.

Eventually you started covering your eyes after skipping each rock, counting to thirty before lowering your hands.

The rock would be there, right in front of you.

Right where you knew it would be.

-----

As you grew older, you grew bolder.

After gathering a basket of flowers or herbs you’d go down to the bay to sit at the water’s edge where the water lapped at your ankles and the fish would nibble at your toes.

You would see movement in the deeper waters, the peak of a fin or a flash of color that filled you with excitement.

The water would churn nearby and the tiny fish would disappear. 

Other times you’d catch movement out of the corner of your eye, and sometimes you’d even hear a voice chuckling with amusement, sourceless and unseen.

Then, one day, he started bringing you presents and leaving them nearby.

Pretty little things. 

Like pearls or smooth, polished glass, and sometimes even carved stones.

You kept each one, of course. 

Tucked away in a little box that you hid under your bed.

-----

One sunny day you found a trail of gifts waiting for you.

Each little gift was a colorful stone that led you towards the cave at the end of the bay.

Any sane person would have seen it as a trap, but you? 

You knew better than any of them what waited for you at the end.

And so you followed. Picking up and pocketing the stones, your bare feet carrying you across the smooth stones by the waters edge until you reached the mouth of the cave.

Sunlight peeked through a large crack in the ceiling, casting the pool of water inside in a warm and oh so inviting glow.

The gifts ended at the mouth of the cave and yet you carried on, water reaching your ankles and then your knees as you made your way deeper and deeper inside.

Staying close to the edge of the cave you pulled yourself up on a rock that rested in the shallows, allowing you to sit with only what was below your waist submerged. 

You waited with baited breath, every splash and drip of water making your stomach flutter and your toes curl.

Then, a dark shadow moved in front of you beneath the water, growing and stretching until--

“O-oh..!”

A head of dark hair breached the water in front of you, followed by sculpted shoulders and a torso that would make even Adonis jealous. His left arm was more monstrous than the rest of him, bearing claws that could easily rend your flesh with just a flick of a finger.

Your eyes wandered lower, only to find glittering scales and a magnificent tail that disappeared into the depths of the water below.

“My eyes are up here.” He mused, his voice rough from a clear lack of use.

With every breath his chest expanded, the gills on either side of his ribs fluttering.

“You’re- you’re really-- ” Your voice trails off, eyes wide with excitement and disbelief.

“A merman?” He flashed you a smile that would rival the cheshire cats. 

“Real.” You finally say, your shoulders sagging as a bubble of laughter escaped. “I thought I was crazy. But you’re really real!”

Webbed hands came to rest on the stone at either side of your hips, the sharp nails of his left hand scratching into the stone with just the slightest bit of pressure.

You reached out with hesitation, hands hovering just shy of touching his face.

To your surprise he leaned closer, cheek nuzzling into your palm while his right hand lifted to cup your left.

“Do you have a name?” You ask, watching as he closed his eyes and purred at your touch.

“Bucky.” Dark lashes fluttered, his steel blue eyes flicking upward to greet your own. “You?”

“Y/N.” You say with a gentle sigh through your nose, your expression softening as he continues to nuzzle into your hand, the left brought to his lips where he kissed along your knuckles and wrist, nose brushing along your skin as if to scent you.

“You smell like sunshine.” He comments, tongue flicking out and dragging across your fluttering pulse. 

Pink tinted your cheeks, your smile turning shy as you pulled your hand away.

Bucky lets you go without issue, but he shifted closer a moment later, invading your personal space. 

Water dripped from his hair and fell upon your dress, the sudden chill against your chest making your nipples hard.

Leaning in he sniffed at your hair and then your neck, eventually making his way down to your shoulder. Following an unseen path his nose brushes across the front of your dress, lips grazing the spot just above your heart. "Heh.. You’re so small, I could just gobble you right up.”

A sudden spike of excitement and fear had you jumping, your heart leaping to your throat. “A-are you saying you’re going to eat me?”

The mer pulled back and looked up at you as if you’d gone and smacked him, brows pitched high with startled shock before it bled away into smug amusement. “Eat you?” He repeated, pulling himself up and between your thighs, putting you both at eye level. 

Leaning in he spoke lowly, his lips brushing yours. “Never.” 

A chuckle escaped Bucky at your flustered look as he pulled away and gave you a wink. “Well, not unless you want me to.”

Sinking back into the pool he breathed in a fresh lung full of water, his expression dropping to one of shock and awe before it evolved into a look of straight up hunger.

He remained submerged up to his shoulders in front of you, watching as you quickly closed your thighs, fingers digging into the hem of your dress where his eyes were currently glued.

“Oh… Oh Y/N…” Bucky let out a shaky breath, his tail giving a flick that brought him back into your personal bubble. With his head at level with your stomach he brought his hands up to brush across the outside of your knees. 

When he spoke, his voice was practically a purr. “You do want me to eat you, don't you." 

His hands dared to wander up towards the outside of your thighs, so close yet so far away.

Wetting his lips, he looked up at you with lust blown eyes. "I can smell you."

Feeling your cheeks burn you looked away, the heat steadily building between your thighs. 

The telltale prick of his nails sent a shiver down your spine, your thoughts wandering to darker places.

All it would take is a flick of his claws or a bite of his teeth and you’d be done for.

And that’s what excites you. 

The danger of it all, and yet here he was, being so, so gentle with you.

As if drawn closer by an unseen force the mer lowered himself back between your thighs, head dropping to nuzzle against your stomach. "I have to know. I have to know if you taste like Sunshine…"

When he looked up at you with pleading eyes you felt your stomach flutter and your breath hitch.

"Will you let me find out?"

Biting at your lower lip you gave a nod, a hand sliding into his hair as he sank beneath the water and into the apex of your thighs.

Pushing your dress out of the way Bucky looked up at you, needing to see the look on your face before he looked down, drinking in the sight of your bare sex. The water tasted of arousal, filling his lungs and captivating his senses. 

It was like a single drop of blood in the water, and now the sharks were circling.

A soft stream of bubbles tickled across your inner thigh, his shoulders wedging your legs further apart so that he could better fit between them.

His arms scooped under your legs, fingers digging into your dress at your hips when he pulled you closer to the edge. Warm lips danced across your inner thighs, the scruff of his facial hair causing your muscles to twitch and jump on their own.

Bucky took his time, teasing you with kisses to your thighs and the gentle nibble of his teeth, breathing you in and savoring the sweet arousal that was waiting for him.

You pet a hand through his wet hair, a low moan of pleasure leaving your lips when he finally moved in close enough to brush his nose across your folds. His lips followed, peppering you with kisses that sent the butterflies in your stomach aflutter. 

Growing bolder he flicked out his tongue, tasting the warmth of your skin and the sweetness that tainted the water. You heard him moan, the hot, slick brush of his tongue pushing past your folds.

A single lick against your clit and you gasped at the new sensation, thighs clenching around his head while your hand tightened in his hair. One lick became two, and two became three as he took your reaction as a positive reinforcement to continue.

Pressing in even closer he sealed his mouth around your sex, licking and sucking as if he were a parched man given his first taste of water.

That sinful length of his tongue danced across your sensitive bundle of nerves, lavishing it in quick little licks only for him to stop a moment later. Sliding lower he teased and prodded at your entrance, lapping up your moisture before slipping inside.

Bucky flickered and swirled his long tongue inside you, licking and scooping out your honey before delving back in to seek out more.

“A-ah~ Buh-Bucky-” You gasp with a moan, voice echoing off the walls of the cave as you hang on to his hair and the nearby stones for dear life.

This man could drag you under the water and have his way with you five days til Sunday and it would still be so very worth it.

Heat pooled low behind your navel, inner walls fluttering around his tongue as he ate you out like a man possessed, his nose brushing against your button with every hungry movement he made.

Just as you were nearing that unseen peak of pleasure Bucky let out a deep, throaty growl, the sound reverberating through his tongue and into your sex, tipping you over the edge without warning.

You tipped your head back and keened with pleasure, inner walls twitching and fluttering around his tongue as he scooped out your cream and licked up your juices.

Breathless and near shaking you sit back against the wall of the cave, thighs shaking.

Bucky pulled himself back and rose up to gaze up at you, looking every bit the cat who’d gotten the cream as he nuzzled against your thigh.

After a moment of catching your breath you open your eyes and look down at him, your toes curling at the sensation of his clawed fingers grazing across the outside of your thigh.

“I was right.” He eventually says, rising out of the water to brush a chaste kiss across your lips.

“You do taste like sunshine.”

[fridayfirefly]

Seeing Ghosts

Read Seeing Ghosts on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 12 - Second Chance

For as long as she could remember, Marinette could see ghosts. It wasn't always the ghosts of strangers, though. Her ghost encounters started small. When Marinette was four years old, her parents told her that the family cat, Tikki, had left to live in the countryside. Marinette didn't understand, because Tikki still lived with them. Tikki still meowed for pets, still purred when Marinette pet her, still played with her favorite toy, the laser pointer that Marinette got for her last birthday. It wasn't until two weeks later, that Tom and Sabine sat Marinette down and explained to her that Tikki had died, that she needed to stop pretending that she was still there. Marinette was confused until she saw the way Tikki's paws batted right through her toys, the way she never ate the scraps that Marinette dropped on the floor. Marinette knew two things for sure: Tikki was dead and Marinette could still see her ghost.

For years and years, Tikki was the only ghost that Marinette saw. Then Marinette turned fourteen and Marinette could suddenly see.

They haunted the corners of her eyes, lurking in her periphery. They were just shadows, phantoms until Marinette focused her eyes, and then she could see them clear as day. Ghosts were real and Marinette could see them. Ghosts were real and they were everywhere, an inescapable reality for Marinette.

Quickly, the ghosts learned that Marinette could see them. They followed her around, lingering at the edge of her sight. She could hear them too, little whispers about the baker's daughter, the only person who could see them. However, none of the ghosts were bold enough to approach her. That was the status quo, until one day when Marinette came home from school one day to a ghost lurking in her room.

Marinette gasped as she saw the ghost sitting in the chair at her desk, staring at her with knowing blue eyes. He was her age, which made his brutal injuries all the more horrific to look at. His skull was caved in. His chest was mangled. His skin was shredded and burned. He had been beaten to death, tortured in his final moments.

"I've been told that you can see ghosts," the boy remarked, ignoring Marinette's shock entirely. He spoke in English instead of French, luckily Marinette's class had been learning both languages, so she was able to understand.

Marinette nodded, her throat suddenly unable to get a word out.

"You can hear ghosts, too. Can you bring them back to life?"

Marinette shook her head, clearing her throat as she began to speak in English, "I've never tried, but I don't think so."

"Could you try? For me?" pleaded the boy, the desperation in his expression breaking Marinette's heart.

"I don't even know you," said Marinette, trying to find a way to gently let the boy down. Seeing ghosts was one thing; bringing them back to life was another thing entirely.

"I'm Jason Todd." Jason stuck out his hand and Marinette tentatively shook it.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It wasn't until Marinette pulled her hand back that she realized that his hand - and now her's - was covered in blood. With a shriek of surprise, Marinette stumbled backward away from Jason. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What did you do?"

"This has never happened before. Somehow my touch turned you corporeal enough for the blood on your hand to transfer to mine."

Jason glanced down at his hands. "Your fingers left prints in the blood. I've spent hours trying to wash the blood away for months, and you managed to do it by accident."

Marinette stared at her hands, the realization sinking in. Jason Todd was dead and his blood was on her hands. In the blink of an eye, Marinette was running to the bathroom to throw up. She thought she would be able to handle looking at the injuries of the dead, but Jason's wounds suddenly felt personal. Someone beat him to death, beat him until his bones broke and his skull caved him. Marinette heaved into the toilet, unable to cope with the violence of Jason's death.

When Marinette finally lifted her head, she saw Jason lingering at the door, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. I know that this is pretty graphic to look at." Jason gestured towards himself.

Marinette shook her head. "You don't have to apologize." After rinsing her mouth out until the taste of vomit was gone, Marinette turned to Jason. "Come here."

Jason approached her at the sink. With the water still running, Marinette took his hands and held them underneath the water. They both watched as the water turned red, then pink, then ran clear as all of the blood washed off Jason's hands. "Thank you," Jason whispered.

Marinette took a deep breath. "I can't make any promises, but I will do my best to bring you back."

--

Bringing the ghost of a human boy back to life seemed like an impossible task, so Marinette started small: with Tikki the ghost cat. It took two weeks of experimentation before Marinette realized that with enough meditation she could funnel some of her energy into Tikki's ghost. With Jason to help her take notes, Marinette began to figure out the ins-and-outs of resurrection.

The most difficult part was figuring out exactly how much energy Marinette could expend before it took a toll on her physical health. The very first time she gave Tikki energy, Marinette woke up the next morning with bruises littering her body. Tom and Sabine took Marinette to the doctor's where she was diagnosed with anemia and prescribed iron supplements. Jason was so concerned about Marinette's well-being that he refused to let her give any more energy away before she had returned to her full health.

A few weeks after the initial mishap Marinette got back on track. Every morning she would push just a little bit of energy into Tikki. Little by little, Tikki turned from specter to physical being. Then, one morning, as Marinette pushed energy into Tikki, she felt her energy hit a wall. At the same time, Marinette felt Tikki's fur under her hand for the first time in ten years.

"You brought her back!" Jason exclaimed.

Marinette let out a whoop of joy, scaring Tikki, who jumped out of Marinette's lap with a startled meow. Marinette grabbed Tikki back up, able to properly hug her beloved pet for the first time in ten years. "I've got to go show Tikki to my parents. I'm going to tell them that I found her outside."

"You'll need to give her a new name," said Jason. "Might I suggest Alfred."

Tom and Sabine were surprised, which was to be expected. After all, it wasn't every day that their daughter found a doppelgänger of their dead cat in the alley behind the bakery. However, they were quick to rationalize the event, shrugging it off as a strange coincidence. Alfred became a beloved new member of the family.

After her success with Alfred neé Tikki, Marinette turned her attention to Jason. Their very first attempt took place in Marinette's bedroom. Marinette and Jason sat down cross-legged on the floor. Marinette placed her hands on top of Jason's and concentrated. She felt the life force within herself and pressed it forward, through her hands and into his.

"I can feel it," whispered Jason, "I've never felt anything like it before. It's so warm."

The awe in Jason's voice made Marinette feel warm inside as well. "I'm going to start with just a little bit of energy. I don't know how transferring energy to a human will differ from transferring energy to a cat, and I don't want to burn myself out on the very first transfer."

"Do this at whatever pace you need. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Marinette smiled with his reassurance. She took a deep breath, and let the energy flow out of her. When she finally finished, cutting off the flow, she looked back up at Jason and gasped. Jason's broken finger, which had bothered him for weeks, had straightened out. The cut on his collarbone had closed shut. The bruise on his cheekbone had faded. His wounds were already starting to heal.

--

Quickly, Marinette and Jason fell into a routine. Every day after school they would sit down in the back corner of the bakery and Marinette (under the guise of doing her homework) would push more of her life energy into him. It was a slow process. Though Marinette often wished to give Jason just a little more energy every day, to speed up the process, she was constantly aware of the fact that Jason would fuss over her and stop the transfer of energy entirely if he saw any sign of pain or exhaustion on her.

In the months that Marinette had known Jason, he had grown protective over her. Marinette spent most of her time with Jason. He slept in her room on the little couch in the corner, followed her to school, and wore the clothes that she designed for her. Jason changing his clothes was an incredibly embarrassing affair, as the only way for him to be corporeal enough to touch the clothes was for Marinette to be touching him while he did it, leading to averted eyes and blushing on the part of both Marinette and Jason (but it was worth it for Marinette, to saw Jason's relieved smile when he realized that he never had to see the blood-stained clothes that he died in again).

In total, it took eight months from the day that Marinette met Jason to the day that Marinette brought Jason back to life. It started as an uneventful morning. Marinette woke up to her alarm, grumbling as she got ready about how it was inhumane to make teenagers wake up so early. She made herself a coffee while chatting to Jason. They walked to school together, Marinette dodging through the crowded sidewalk while Jason moved straight through people with ease. Marinette got to her desk at school and took a seat next to Alya. Luckily the seat behind Marinette was empty, so Jason sat there when he followed Marinette to school.

Marinette had asked Jason before if it bothered him that he was unable to participate with the rest of the class since they could neither see nor hear him. Jason claimed that he didn't mind. Despite that, if Jason ever whispered comments or questions about the lesson into Marinette's ear, she always made sure to ask the teacher, even if she already knew the answer.

Sitting in on lessons had the additional benefit of teaching Jason French. Marinette did her best to teach him the basics, but immersion was the best teacher - after eight months of hearing and speaking only French, Jason was fluent in the language. Marinette often praised him for his quick learning, which was how she learned that Jason was prone to blushing when he was complimented. Jason always grumbled when Marinette pointed it out, but Marinette found it adorable.

Once school was over on that fateful day, Marinette and Jason walked home together. Marinette set her backpack down at her usual table, sat down, and got to work. It had become an easy routine: put in her headphones and play some calming music, find a quiet place within her brain, and focus on the feeling of energy welling up inside of her. Then take Jason's hands, concentrate on that energy, and push it through her arms and into him. Controlling the direction of the energy was easy - it was controlling the rate that was the difficult part. It moved slowly at first, then all at once it flowed faster than Marinette can control, and it was a race to slow it down before it could all drain out of her.

That day, however, just as the energy started to speed up, the flow of energy abruptly cut off before Marinette even had the chance to react.

"Why did it stop?" asked Jason, looking confused.

The day had been so long coming that Marinette could hardly believe what had happened. "I have nothing left to give you. You're alive again, Jason."

Jason stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you sure?"

"I'll go test it." Marinette jumped out of her seat and raced towards the front of the bakery, heading for Tom, who was behind the counter. "Papa, can I get a plate of macaroons for me and my friend?"

Tom glanced over at Jason. "Who is he? I don't think I've ever seen him here before."

"He's a foreign exchange student," Marinette lied easily. "His name is Jason."

"Here's a plate for you and Jason." Tom handed her a plate, piled high with macaroons and other sweets.

"I might take Jason and show him around Paris, once we finish our homework. Is that alright?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Just make sure you're home before dinner."

"Of course," chirped Marinette. She made her way back to her table with a bounce in her step. "My papa could see you. You're real."

In that moment, Jason looked lost. He glanced down at his hands, flesh and blood once more. "What do I do now?"

"You're alive again. You can do whatever you want."

Jason took a deep breath. "I've been gone from this world for so long. I want to go home."

Marinette tried not to let the fact that her heart was breaking show on her face. "I have enough birthday money saved up to buy you a plane ticket. You might have trouble getting on a plane without any identification, but I'm sure we can come up with a solution."

For a moment, Jason looked upset. Then, Marinette saw on his face as a realization dawned on him. "I didn't mean alone. Marinette, I want you to come with me."

--

There was no sugar-coating it: Marinette's parents were going to kill her. The plane was half-way across the Atlantic Ocean and Marinette's phone was turned off. There was no way to check, but she was certain that her parents were already sending her frantic texts. By the time the plane landed in Gotham, Tom and Sabine would surely have already called the police.

Marinette could only hope that her and Jason's fake IDs would hold up against the Gotham Airport security officers. While seventeen-year-old Jason could easily pass for nineteen, the age listed on the fake ID for Jasper Townsend, Marinette was worried that she looked young enough to cause suspicion. The age on Marie Davis's ID needed to be eighteen in order to get Marinette onto the plane, so whether she liked it or not she had to look eighteen. Resigned to her lies, Marinette put on a heavy face of makeup and wore three-inch heels on the international flight. It was a little funny, in an ironic way, that her heels had one inch for each year she needed to make up for.

Marinette was still confused about how Jason managed to get them fake IDs in the first place. Jason just shrugged and said that he knew a guy who owed him a favor. It was a side of Jason that Marinette hadn't ever seen before, a side of him that she was deeply curious about.

They had gotten on the plane just as the sun was setting. Marinette had sent her parents one last text message, telling them that she might be a little late. It was the understatement of the century. Marinette had never lied to her parents like that before. All of her past lies had been little things - lying about the number of macaroons she ate, or how late she stayed up the night before - but never a lie about her personal safety. The guilt was killing Marinette. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Jason placed his hand (flesh and blood) on Marinette's shoulder. "I'm sorry that I'm making you do this."

"I'm not sorry. I would never make you do it alone."

Marinette could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of Jason as their plane landed in Gotham. "I'm assuming you know where we're going next. Should we rent a car?" she asked once they cleared security (miraculously, no one looked too closely at Marinette's feeble attempt at a disguise. Marinette was glad to switch out her heels for flats and wash off the makeup in the airport bathroom).

Jason shook his head. "We don't need to rent one. He always keeps a car at the airport just in case someone's flying in."

Marinette wasn't sure who he was supposed to be, but Jason had been reticent to share any information about his past, and Marinette wasn't going to pressure him. Jason had been beaten to death, after all. There was a lot of trauma in his past and Marinette wasn't going to force him to share it with her until he was ready.

Jason led her through to the VIP parking lot to a luxury black sedan. He reached underneath the car, feeling at the underside until he pulled out a key. "Bruce keeps a key taped to the underside."

"That seems... irresponsible." Marinette was delicate with her words. Jason had been tense since the plane landed, like a loaded gun. She didn't want to bring up anything that might set him off.

"He also has a tracker planted in the car," Jason remarked offhandedly.

Marinette rolled her eyes at that remark, unable to keep walking on eggshells around the topic of Jason's family. "Irresponsible and paranoid. That's an interesting combination."

Jason laughed. "Just wait until you meet Bruce in person. I promise you, none of what I could tell you about him would ever live up to the real deal."

They got into the car, Jason in the driver's seat and Marinette in the passenger's. Jason's driving was a little rusty at first (which was understandable, given that he hadn't driven in nearly a year), but by the time he got on the highway, it was like he never left the driver's seat.

"Do you think that your family will believe you when you tell them that I brought you back to life?" asked Marinette, her voice quiet. The closer she and Jason got to Jason's house, the more questions Marinette had. It had taken her weeks to rationalize the fact that she could see ghosts, and she was the one seeing them. She couldn't imagine how Jason's family would react.

"Bruce was the one who found my body. There wasn't any faking that. I think he'll believe you."

"We've never talked about what happened to you. I- Is it safe for you to go home?"

Jason nodded, eyes on the road as he pulled off the highway onto a winding road. "Bruce did everything he could to save me, but he was too late. I was there for the funeral. I watched him mourn. I think... I think the reason I never passed on was because he never got over my death, never stopped feeling guilty. I wanted to pass on. I wanted to tell Bruce that I didn't blame him. I went and found you so that you could pass on the message for me. But then, when you could touch me, when you took the time to wash the blood off of my hands, I realized that I might be able to tell Bruce myself. I realized that I could have a second chance. I realized how badly I wanted a second chance, because a second chance at life meant that I had a chance with you."

Marinette blushed, looking over at Jason. "You know that doesn't matter to me. I wouldn't care if you were dead or alive."

With a snort of amusement, Jason said, "You might want to rephrase that."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I liked you before you were corporeal. Human or ghost, you're my friend, Jason, and that's never going to change."

"I know that, but I like being alive better. I like being able to hold your hand for real."

Before Marinette could say anything in reply, the car turned. Marinette was too shocked to speak when she saw the size of the house at the end of the driveway. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette."

Marinette got out of the car first, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt and running her fingers through her hair. She hoped that she looked presentable, even if no one would be looking at her once they saw the resurrected Jason. "Are you coming?"

Jason nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah. I'm ready." Jason got out of the car and slipped his hand (flesh and blood) into Marinette's, and even though questions and doubts were swirling through Marinette's head in a whirlwind of anxiety, she knew that as long as she could hold Jason's hand, everything would be okay.

@maribatmarch-2k21