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crystallinestars · 2 months

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If They Were Your Pet Cat (Part 2)

Headcanons for what Aventurine, Argenti, and Jing Yuan would be like as your pet cat.

This is a part 2 because I have a part 1 with Genshin characters here.

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Aventurine:

🃏 Is a domestic shorthair.

🃏 You picked him up as a stray off the streets. Aventurine looked so pitiful in his dirty and starved state, that you didn’t have the heart to leave him like that, so you brought him home. Initially, he appeared nervous and quiet during the first few weeks. Once he became accustomed to living with you, you discovered that the little, scrawny feline has a big personality.

🃏 Aventurine loves to be pampered. He always purrs whenever you brush or pet him, give him belly rubs, or chin skritches. He simply adores your attention. When you coo that he’s such a pretty kitty? Aventurine looks as smug as a cat can possibly look and follows you around the house while affectionately rubbing against your legs.

🃏 He’s very loyal to you. Anyone that comes to your house and tries to coax him to come play or get pats, is promptly ignored by the feline. The ability to cuddle and pet him are luxuries he reserves only for you.

🃏 You’d think starving out on the streets would have made Aventurine eager to eat almost anything, but no. The little rascal only eats the most expensive cat food brands and turns his nose up at anything else. Either that, or he will steal your food off your plate when you’re not looking. He’s a spoiled cat.

🃏 Aventurine likes to sleep next to you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing—he will saunter up and lay down somewhere close to take a nap. It’s also a given that he sleeps cuddled up beside you in bed during bedtime. He simply likes feeling your presence since it makes him feel safe.

🃏 As such, Aventurine hates when you leave him home alone for extended periods. He’s surprisingly clingy and gets lonely easily. If you’re gone for most of the day, he’ll be very upset by the time you get home and might tear up a pillow or the curtains out of spite. If this this pattern continues for a long while, one day you’ll notice that your keys are gone. Aventurine is a smart cat and quickly figures out that when you leave the house, you always bring your keys with you. To make you stay, he’ll hide them in a spot that only he can reach with ease. Good luck getting your keys back…

🃏 That said, getting another cat or pet won’t cure his loneliness. If anything, Aventurine will become possessive and jealous because he hates having to share your attention with another cat. He’s a bit territorial of you. Similarly, he dislikes you coming home smelling like another animal, so expect him to rub against you to overwrite the scent of that other animal.

🃏 Most of all, Aventurine hates it when you get mad at him. He always looks guilty whenever you scold or yell at him, and immediately flops over onto his back to expose his furry belly to you. It’s his attempt to placate you and ask for your forgiveness. He anxiously follows you around the house and rubs his body against your legs until he’s sure you’re not mad at him anymore.

Argenti:

🌹 An Ocicat breed.

🌹 Argenti is the most photogenic cat you’ve ever encountered. He always looks graceful and dignified no matter what he’s doing or what angle you take photos of him from. Every picture comes out looking lovely. Anyone who sees your cat always says that he looks beautiful.

🌹 To keep such a gorgeous appearance, Argenti often grooms himself. He does a very good job of it, too, which is why you barely have to groom him yourself. The most you have to do is give him the occasional bath, brush out shedding fur during shedding season, and clip his claws.

🌹 As gorgeous as he is for a house cat, Argenti is a free spirit who doesn’t like to be cooped up at home for long periods of time. Whenever he wants to go out, he’ll paw at the door or windows to signal for you to open them. You were nervous about letting him out at first but soon learned that his desire for the great outdoors was unstoppable. He would venture outside one way or another, much to your befuddlement. He enjoys exploring the neighborhood but always makes sure to come home before dark. As much as he loves adventuring, he loves being in your loving arms more.

🌹 Argenti has the temperament of an angel. You could do whatever you wanted to him, and he would gracefully take it without complaining or struggling. It makes doing things like taking him to the vet, bathing, and grooming extremely easy. You could even make him wear different outfits, and he won’t mind at all. He might even like wearing some of them.

🌹 Is very friendly. Whenever you have guests over, Argenti greets them at the door and purrs while rubbing against their legs. He also readily engages in play and comes if they call him. He does this with everyone who comes through your door, so he’s pretty well-liked among your social circle. However, he doesn’t sit on your guests’ laps or cuddle with them since he’s too active to be a lap cat. Such privileges are available only to you.

🌹 His overly friendly and affectionate personality extends to more than just people. He can purr for other animals he finds during his little excursions outdoors, or even inanimate objects. You once caught him rubbing up against one of your potted plants…

🌹 If you’re scared of insects, then Argenti is the cat for you. Whenever he hears you shriek because you saw a bug, he runs over to your side and promptly fends off the heinous critter. He easily catches and kills any insects so that you, his owner, don’t have to be scared anymore. You can sic him on anything, and he’ll get rid of it for you.

🌹 Argenti is sensitive to your emotional state. Whenever you’re upset, Argenti brings a toy over to you to try and get you to play with him and take your mind off whatever is bothering you. If that doesn’t cheer you up, then he lays down on your chest and licks at your face with his rough tongue. It’s his way of soothing you. He’ll purr on your chest until you feel better.

Jing Yuan:

🦁 A Maine Coon.

🦁 Is a big and lazy cat. Jing Yuan will chase a toy around the house if you play with him, but he generally prefers to snooze by a window while catching some rays of warm sun. He can more often than not be found napping in some cozy and warm corner of the house. When you’re not home, he’ll also sleep in your bed under the blankets.

🦁 Jing Yuan has a calm temperament. He’s very well-behaved during grooming and handles bathing, drying, and brushing like a champ. He’s chill as a cucumber and doesn’t put up a fight while you do your thing in maintaining his long coat. In fact, he’s so laidback, that you could squeeze and rub him all over and he won’t lash out at you, instead tolerating everything with what you can only describe as a smile.

🦁 As accepting as he is of all your affections, he has boundaries. Jing Yuan is generally not fond of being squeezed and terrorized, especially by people who invade his personal space (like rambunctious children or people who bury their faces in his fur). If one such person is in your home, Jing Yuan will vanish without a trace as soon as he hears their footsteps. He only tolerates such treatment from you because you’re his beloved owner.

🦁 Jing Yuan likes being petted and praised but prefers it if these affections come from you. He especially enjoys being brushed by you, and purrs when you comb through his fur. He can even fall asleep on our lap during brushing since the process relaxes him so much.

🦁 He’s a very intelligent cat. Sometimes you talk to him as if you were talking to a friend or family member, and Jing Yuan would meow back in response at appropriate times during the conversation, as if he were replying to your comments. He also has this intelligent look in his golden eyes, as if he understands everything you’re saying. It can be a bit uncanny at times.

🦁 On top of his ability to respond appropriately to your speech, Jing Yuan also easily senses whenever you’re upset. If you feel down, he will stick to your side or lay on your chest and purr until you feel better. If you cry, he’ll lick your tears away. He remains by your side until you’re all better, and won’t leave you alone for anything.

🦁 Is very curious about everything that you do. When you cook, Jing Yuan sits somewhere in the kitchen and watches you busy yourself with whipping up a meal for yourself. He likes to sniff the ingredients you’re working with, either to identify them or discover a food he hasn’t encountered before. Rest assured that he won’t eat anything without you explicitly offering it to him. However, if you have something yummy like fish or chicken cooking, he expects you to share some of it with him once it comes time to eat. He wants to eat delicious things too, not only cat food.

🦁 Frequently sees you off when you leave the house. Likewise, he patiently waits for you at the door when it’s time for you to come home. He’s a bit like a dog in that way.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader #jing yuan x reader #I debated on making Jing Yuan a ragdoll but Maine Coon is the first breed I think of when I look at him

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holylulusworld · 7 days

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Mr. Holmes Maid (3)

Summary: You’re his maid.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Maid!Reader

Warnings: angst, power imbalance, dub-con (just in case cuddling/sharing a bed), master-servant relationship, the reader was an orphan, inappropriate behavior

Mr. Holmes Maid (2)

Mr. Holmes’ maid masterlist

The red dress is even more opulent and expensive than the others. You feel like an imposter standing in front of your master in a dress that shouldn’t cover your body.

“Wonderful,” the needlewoman coos. She clasps her hands together and smiles at you. “She looks so beautiful, doesn’t she, Mr. Holmes.” She wants to hear a compliment for her handiwork, not how you look in the dress.

“Mr. Holmes,” you dare not complain, but you don’t feel comfortable wearing a dress made for a lady, not a peasant. “Isn’t that too much? I can’t clean in this kind of dress.”

“It’s for special occasions,” he hastily says while pushing a few looks out of his face. “If we receive guests and such.” The lie easily rolls off his tongue. He straightens his back and looks at the owner of the shop straight in the eyes. “Right, Mr. Stevenson.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Holmes,” the man almost cowers in front of your master. If he’d lick Sherlock’s polished shoes, you wouldn’t be surprised. “She will look lovely while serving your guests.”

No one at the shop believes Sherlock wants you to wear this dress for his guests. He wants you to wear them only for you.

“Wonderful,” your master finally says. “We will take them all. Maid,” he sternly looks at you. “You can redress after I paid for everything. I’ll be waiting outside for you. Don’t waste time, we need shoes for you too.”

“Shoes,” you murmur while watching Sherlock with curiosity. He’s so different now. Moments ago, he was all soft on you and placed his hand on the small of your back. And now, he orders you around.

“Yes, shoes, maid,” he grumbles. “Let’s proceed then.”

You wrinkle your forehead. What else does he want to buy for you today?

Sherlock leaves you and the needlewoman alone to talk to the owner about payment, and another order.

“My dear,” the woman whispers so no one can hear her. “He’s charming, smart, and very handsome. But be careful. You’re only a maid. If anyone finds out about your affair,” she looks around the shop, “you will be the one to blame.”

“I—no,” you gasp at her bluntness. “I…we…no. We never... I wouldn’t dare…” You shake your head. “Mr. Holmes never did such a thing, madame.”

“I’m not a madame, my dear,” she chuckles lightly. “I was you not so long ago.” She dips her head to watch her husband and Sherlock talk. “My husband saved me from ending up on the street after my master promised me love and devotion.”

You don’t know what to say, so you remain silent.

“After he stole my innocence, he tossed me out on the street like a stray cat,” she whispers. “If you ever need help,” she grabs your hand, squeezing it, “come back here. We have a spare room.”

You nod and give her a quick smile. Your heart is racing, just like your mind.

Is that what Sherlock wants? Steal your innocence and kick you out. Is this his way to remind you of your place? Maybe he tries to fool you, believing you’re just a dull maid, unable to think for yourself.

“Thank you,” you utter and ask her to help you redress. You need to get the expensive dress off of your body, or you’ll faint imagining all the things Sherlock could do to you if you let him…

“Are you unwell,” Sherlock watches you fidget in your seat at the carriage. “What is it, Y/N?”

“The dresses and all that,” you dare not to meet his gaze, “I can’t wear them. It’s inappropriate. I got my clothes and…guests wouldn’t want to see me in such a dress. It’s too…pretty.”

“I bought them,” he sternly replies. “So, you will wear them.” Sherlock’s features soften when you choke out a sob. “Y/N, you helped me so often while I was lost in a case. You made sure that I ate properly and got dressed. You even brushed my locks. Consider the dresses and coat a gift to thank you for your assistance with my cases.”

“I did my duty, Master Holmes,” your voice trembles when he looks at you with soft blue eyes. “Helping you and taking care of you is my honor.”

He smiles at your words. “You’re so…” Sherlock swallows the sweet words he wanted to say. He cannot say them. This would confuse you even more. “Caring and selfless.” He says instead. “If I offer a gift to you, I expect you to take it.”

“Yes, master.”

Sherlock sighs deeply. His words came out wrong, and now you shy away, believing you did something wrong. He wants to take the words back, but that’s just not him.

“We will be home soon, maid,” he softly says. “We should rest soon. It was a rather long and exhausting day for you.”

“What about dinner? I can still prepare everything,” you try to make things up to Sherlock. He bought all these nice things for you, and you could only think of the things the needlewoman said to you.

Sherlock brushes his hand over yours, gently touching it for a moment. “We have leftovers from last night. You need to rest. Tomorrow, we need to talk about a few things.”

You nod and drop your gaze. “Will you send me away now? Did I anger you?”

“What?” He gasps at your words. “No…I…” Sherlock grabs your hand to hold it tightly. “I would never let you go. And you did not anger me, Y/N.” He murmurs. “It’s late and we should not think of anything but to rest.”

Your heart races feeling his large hand hold yours. He doesn’t let go and interlaces his fingers with yours. Sherlock breaks another rule, but there is no one but you and him in that carriage.

Who shall judge him for wanting to hold your hand?

You pace back and forth in your bedroom. Sherlock said goodnight and tried to read some papers while he sent you to bed.

Now the words of needlewoman echo in your mind. What if she’s right? Maybe he tries to charm his way into your bed. You heard stories from other maids. Their masters did the same.

Sherlock never made any promises. He just came to your bed and slept next to you, seeking your warmth and closeness.

It’s all so confusing and you don’t know if you can resist his advances. Your heart, and maybe your soul too belongs to Sherlock for the longest time.

The moment he took you to his maid, you were lost, and you don’t know if that’s a bad thing…

Tags in reblog.

#sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #Mr. Holmes Maid (3)#sherlock holmes x y/n #maid reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you

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chigirizzz · 10 months

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stop feeding my cats! — nagi

gn! reader, fluff, not proofread

you frowned, confused, as you read the messy handwriting on the yellow sticky note that was glued to the cat food bowl in an alley near your house.

stop feeding my cats, it says.

the hell?

you looked around the alley. nothing. you stepped out a few steps from the alley to investigate the street. people and cars were passing by but nothing special.

was the sticky note a prank? done by someone who could have had an eye on you for a while (that thought made you shiver; you hoped that wasn’t the case)? or was, in fact, the owner of the stray cats that you’ve been feeding for a few weeks by now?

no, it couldn’t be; if the person was the owner then why the hell don’t they take care of their pets? the cats were dirty, skinny and none of them had a collar or signs that they used to have a collar. then, was someone also feeding the feline creatures that you’ve taken a liking for? it seemed to be the more rational scenario.

you shrugged and crumpled the paper, before putting it in the pocket of your pants. you really didn’t give a shit, honestly, as long as the person doesn’t disturb you in any way.

while opening the new cans of cat food that you just bought from the supermarket, some of the cats that you recognized made their way to you, excited by the smell of the canned food.

this was your routine now, coming to the same alley you were in and giving the love and affection that those poor animals didn't have. you liked doing this, and you even brought your friends once in a while to help you, which they never hesitated to do.

as you looked inside the plastic bag, you realized you forgot to buy fresh water for the cats. “ah, shit. wait here, it won't take long.” you patted one of the cats, a gray one, and ran to the supermarket. today was a very hot day, so the water was a must.

as you made your way back in the alley, you heard a soft, sleepy, masculine voice talking to no one in particular. it was a white haired boy who seemed to be your age, his tall body in a squatting position, petting the same gray cat you pampered not even 10 minutes ago.

“your fur is so soft. pretty. pretty.” he eventually realized you were there watching him confused, his bored eyes staring at yours. “hm... are you the one who’s been nagging misky and her friends?”

“huh?” you approached him and tried to not be intimidated when he got up and made you look up at him. he was really tall. his baby face didn’t fit the slight muscular and tall body of his. “misky? nagging? what are you on about?”

he pointed at the gray cat. “that’s misky, i was the one who gave her that name. the other cats are her friends,” he affirmed. “and you’ve been nagging them.”

“wha—ugh, unbelievable.” you groaned and rolled your eyes. was he dumb or was he trying to make you look like an idiot? his posture and facial expression remained the same, waiting for an answer, probably. “i never bothered the cats or anything. i just feed them, give them water and pet them. i don’t see where the problem is.”

“i already do that.”

“then how come i never saw you here? i come here often.”

“oh. sometimes i forget to take care of them.” his lips were now similar to an “x”. “i come here once or twice a week… unless i forget.”

“that’s nothing, they need more atten—wait, are you the one who left the sticky note?” he nodded, now on his knees to play with the cats. one of them proceeded to lick his fingers, love and affection on the feline’s eyes. they all seemed to recognize and like him, even if he was a bit neglectful. you looked at the boy interacting with the hungry animals, a view that warmed your heart. “what’s your name?”

“nagi,” he answered without looking at you, grabbing one of the cats and placing them softly on his lap.”nagi seishiro.”

“i’m y/n l/n.” you approached him and sat on the floor. “they really love you.”

“mhm. i’ve been visiting them for a few months now. look,” he called out for your attention and began pointing at each cat while telling you their respective name. “that’s miya, the black one is puddin, that one is jung and the one who’s besides him is his girlfriend, hana. oh, and this one is named reo because his personality reminds me of my best friend reo!” you laughed at his excitement. he seemed like an innocent kid at the moment, which you found adorable.

“i see. i never bothered to give them names; i’m not good at that, haha.”

“that’s because you’re a bad caretaker.”

“huh?! as if!” he ignored you. “how does me not giving them names equal to being a bad caretaker?”

he shrugged and looked at you. “hm, don’t know. but i’d appreciate it if you'd stop feeding my cats.”

you arched your eyebrow. “then why don’t you adopt them?”

“too much of a hassle taking care of them daily.” you facepalmed at his response, to which he didn’t bother to react to. “once or twice a week is enough for me.” his “:x” facial expression was back again.

“if it’s such a hassle then why don’t you want me to take care of them?” he was now in silence and looking at the floor. he seemed… sad. you touched his shoulder gently with the tip of your fingers. “nagi?...”

“i don’t have many friends. don’t want someone to take them away from me.”

awn...

“i won’t take them away from you. my parents don’t want any type of pets.” it was silent for a few seconds in the alley, the only thing that was heard were the cars and the people passing by. it was relaxing, actually.

“say, y/n, why don’t we both take care of them?” he suggested as he laid on the floor with his arms supporting his head, looking at the clear sky.

“is that what you want?”

“mhm.”

you smiled at him. “ok, fine for me! i’ll do my part on the first four days of the week and you on the other three days!”

“no, that’s not what i meant.” his eyes were gazing at yours. “we’ll take care of them at the same time, so i can see you more often. you seem like a nice company.”

oh.

“isn’t… isn’t that a hassle for you?”

“yes.”

“and you still want to do that?”

“mhm.”

“you’re weird,” you chuckled. “but ok, i accept, nagi.”

the rest of the day nagi and you played with the cats and decided when to come back to the alley. the boy was actually really funny despite not showing any emotion. and you were starting to see him as a friend.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi fluff #seishiro nagi fluff #nagi seishiro fluff #blue lock imagines #seishiro nagi x you #blue lock drabbles #bllk drabbles #nagi drabble

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gabessquishytum · 8 days

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Young catboy Dream gets kicked from home by his breeder because he is infertile. The breeder didn't sell him when he was a kitten specifically because of his appearance - with the right match, he could have given a few fantastically beautiful (and expensive!) litters - but now that it turns out he can't be bred, there's no reason to keep him. Dream is both hurt and relieved. The truth is, he's never wanted to be a brood mare cat. Participating in the shows, mating with someone only because they've good breed characteristics and then parting to never see each other again... It always sounded terrible to Dream. So, the good thing is he's free to go and do whatever he wants now. The bad thing is he's constantly cold and hungry. Surviving on the streets is no joke: it often rains, finding a proper shelter and not being kicked out there by a stronger stray or a human is a real challenge, and food…food is another issue in itself. There's rarely something edible in trash cans to begin with, and even getting past other catpeople is difficult. Dream tries to fight, but he's not exactly the strongest cat out there and frequently gets beaten. Several well-established strays offer him food and protection if he becomes their plaything, but Dream refuses despite his empty belly. If he still has something left, that's his pride, and he won't present to someone for a can of tuna, thank you very much. One night, he wanders into the borough where he hasn't been for a while and sees a new pub. It looks like an establishment that most likely has hot dishes on the menu, and if it's really that new, maybe no catperson has claimed its trash cans yet! Full of hope (and daring to dream of fish-and-chips leftovers), Dream rushes to the back door only to run into a human. Hob Gadling - the pub owner who also happens to live in the apartment above - simply went for a smoke after closing the shift. He likes the sounds of the city at night, and having a breather once everyone is gone has already become his little tradition. Which gets interrupted by a mass of wet fur and sharp bones that collides with him and falls to the ground with a piteous mewling. Dream knows that humans are no good, and he should get back on his feet and run away, but he's so, so exhausted and hungry he can't hold back tears anymore. Hob panics. First, what if the poor thing has broken something? Second, this catboy has the most beautiful eyes Hob's ever seen. Okay, he is just the most beautiful thing Hob's ever laid his eyes on. You know what? There are many reasons to panic when you fall in love at first sight and your love is crying in a puddle. Hob helps the catboy to stand and offers him to come in. Being outdoors after unplanned puddle bathing won't do him any good, cat or not. Hob can run him a hot bath. And make something to eat. He knows he's babbling, but he just can't shut up and gather his faculties with how beautiful this catboy is and how his heart breaks for his condition. Meanwhile, Dream just decides to go with it. He's too tired. If this human wants to take him somewhere warm and...do things to him, Dream won't fight. If he behaves, maybe this human - Hob, he says his name is Hob - will even allow Dream to stay the night and have something to eat. Dream agrees to come with him.

Oh I am deeply invested in stray catperson Dream!!!!!!

Hob takes him upstairs in the warm, cozy pub, and as soon as they get into the flat he gets busy fussing over Dream. Wrapping him in a big towel, sitting him down on the sofa, still babbling about how he's so sorry and that Dream will be safe, here. Dream has a rather vacant expression on his face until Hob presents him with a cup of hot milk, which he guzzles down so quickly he doesn't even have time to burn his tongue.

Dream does have clothes (his previous owner was kind enough not to strip him naked before dumping him) but they're torn up and now soaking and muddy too. Hob comes from his bedroom with an armful of hoodies, sweatshirts, pyjamas and jogging bottoms for Dream to choose from. He can't have his poor little love shivering in those rags for a moment longer.

Dream takes the fact that the man is dressing him, rather than undressing him, as basically a good sign.

There are many other wonderful things that evening. More warm milk. A bath. Beans on toast. A big cozy blanket tucked around Dream’s shoulders, and firm gentle hands brushing out his damp fur. Inevitably he falls asleep on the sofa, having just shyly rolled over and allowed Hob to rub his belly.

Hob falls even more deeply in love. His heart aches as he gently carries Dream off to bed and tucks him in. He is so in love with this beautiful, scared catboy already. But what if Dream decides to leave? Surely he wouldn't be crazy enough to stay with a complete stranger for longer than a night...?

In fact, Dream has made a decision: he's going nowhere, not until Hob picks him up by the scruff and throws him out. Even then he'll stay skulking around the bins behind the inn. There's no way he's leaving this place that has the warmsafehome smell. No way he's leaving Hob, who bathed him so carefully without once touching him inappropriately. Who cuddled him in the night when he had a bad dream and needed comfort.

These days you'll catch Dream tucking in to fish and chips at his favourite table in the inn. Tail swishing happily, he'll smile across at Hob as he works behind the bar. Very much the cat who got the cream. Maybe Hob will pass by and kiss his forehead while stealing a chip. It's the domestic fantasy Dream never imagined he could have.

And stray catpeople are always welcome at the New Inn. As long as they don't flirt with the owner. He's very much Dream’s territory.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw hybrids #cw homelessness #cw breeding #catboys

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cattamouche · 8 months

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> my own interpretation of modern scara. ☄. *. ⋆

a/n: hello! I'm brand new here. writing on here has been something I've been wanting to do for a really long time so I finally created an account and put some thoughts together for my first post. it's not anything big, but it's something to get me started on here. hope u enjoy :')

✧ I know everyone likes him with an emo/goth style, but I think the elegant/pretty type of clothes he wears in game would translate over to real life quite well. Obviously he wouldn't wear the same exact clothes, but he would stick with a more elegant style rather than an emo one.

✧ He would definitely be the type of guy that has an extremely small amount of friends. I imagine him being very picky with the people he hangs out with, and despite him presenting himself as nicely as possible, his dismissive and uninterested attitude and personality would push most people away. It would be a miracle if anyone was willing to befriend him after that horrid first impression, but as long as he still has those close friends, he doesn't care about making new ones. He has a quality over quantity type of mindset for pretty much all things.

✧ Would take a while to get him to open up to you, but once you do break down those walls he's very sweet and caring. Loves his friends but is not good at showing it at all, gets embarrassed at the thought of outwardly showing his affection or appreciation for someone without the addition of a stupid remark. It's just not something he's used to, so serious affection would only be reserved for a potential partner- if he ever even managed to get to that point with someone anyway. It's hard for him, cut him some slack.

✧ As a student, I think he would take uni/college very seriously. He acts dismissive and uninterested in academics but he does put in a lot of work. You'll be miserable working with him in group projects because he'd be overly critical of your work and tell you to change things constantly, he's a perfectionist so putting up with him would be exhausting. He can be insufferable but by god will you get an A on your project. There's no way he's handing in a pile of shit with his name on it.

✧ In terms of hobbies and talents, I honestly think anything would suit him. I can imagine Ei being the type of parent to sign him up for any instrument lesson from an early age, piano, violin, chello, you name it, he has experience with a lot. Likes to play video games in his free time as well. I can't see him as the type of guy that's glued to his screen 24/7 but he's definitely spent a decent amount of his time on games. And his perfectionism doesn't just end at his studies, it applies to his hobbies too. He's the type of person that puts in a lot of effort to get all the achievements for his favorite games. Had various different consoles growing up. Has a preference for handhelds because he can take them anywhere and play a little something whenever he's bored.

✧ He's organized to a T. Of course, he does have those occasional days where his mental health is exceptionally bad, so that's the only time you'll see him a mess, and he gets extremely embarrassed about it. He cares a lot about his image, so anyone seeing him at his lowest would have to take the state they saw him in to the grave.

✧ He's a cat person. No one's surprised. He wouldn't have his own pets past those 2 goldfish he won at a fair when he was young, but when he sees strays on the street he will go out of his way to go to the nearest store and buy them some canned food. If he sees them often enough on his route, he will start carrying around little treats for them knowing he'll see them out and about. What do you mean going that specific direction is only slowing him down. No he's not going out of his way to see his little friends, it's a shortcut. You don't know what you're talking about.

Overall, in my eyes, he would just be a guy with a bit of spice. Someone that just has trouble making friends and keeping his attitude in check.

#english isnt my first language hey #the ending is kinda abrupt but idc #i love him #scaramouche x reader #modern scaramouche #modern scara #wanderer x reader #idrk what im supposed to be tagging this as tbh #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #? how do i get to my target audience bc this isnt even an x reader but like. this is the type of stuff u guys read right

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cherry-dr0p · 2 months

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Drawing characters (my favourites) as cats: Pt. 1

Nosfer-cat-u???? Real??

Note: All of these are my personal headcanons... Gonna write some kitty headcanons under too because I am silly like that and cringe culture is dead :3

1. Kitty (Herr) Knock!

Here is kitty Knock headcanons!

I'd imagine him to be an orange ragdoll cat!! Orange cats are generally known from what I've seen for being peculiar little guys, so I thought that would fit Knock very nicely for being out of the ordinary and silly. I honestly chose the ragdoll because of the fluffy appearance of their fur but reading into it, they can be affectionate and friendly too. And they love belly rubs. Perhaps he is a friendly cat who originally wanted attention and love for people but after being shunned for being abnormal, he gave up.

Ragdolls are intelligent too, whilst orange cats are known for the opposite. I reckon that Knock seems unintelligent with some of the things he does (getting stuck in high places, running into things etc.) But he is actually quite a smart cat in reality.

He's definitely a stray cat who was abandoned at some point on the streets and had to survive on his own until finding Orlok </3 Poor guy

He likes smaller animals, especially rats. The ones cats are meant to kill, Knock does not. He refuses to.

He is quite an old kitty (hence the gray fur parts), but he's still full of life!

He's also extra mischievous. I reckon >:3

Hes very dirty, his furr is matted and he also has fleas because he hasnt been groomed :(

What did this poor cat do to have the whole town after him </3 /j

Kitty (Count) Orlok

Note: For kitty Orlok, I wanted him to have light gray skin but it was too late when I realised the gray was way darker than I wanted it to be :( I have new pens coming in a few days so I can redo Orlok

But anyways, kitty Orlok headcanons;

But yeah, I think Orlok to be a Sphynx cat. Ive heard others talk about how unappealing and somewhat creepy Sphynx cats look (honestly, how dare they >:[) and I think it's sorta the way a supernatural vampire like a creature would be viewed. Despite all this, Sphynx cats for their loyal and intelligent, which I imagine could be overlooked when seeing kitty Orlok. (You can probably guess who he's loyal to)

I also intentionally made him extra spooky looking too. He has lifeless white eyes and sharp claws, with lots of wrinkles and a tall, lanky stature to catch the creepy aura. I also imagine he can make himself look taller willingly in order to look extra terrifying when he needs or wants to be feared.

Kinda messed it up a little too but dark purple collar. I didnt know what to put for the little tag so diamond shape because hes extra fancy like that.

Hes always been a stray cat, getting used to being alone since he was a mere kitten. He doesn't really get visitors often so imagine his surprise when a peculiar occurance is present and a specific orange cat finds and befriends him.

Despite Sphynx cats having an affectionate nature, Orlok isn't really the most affectionate cat at all. He can be quite violent, which pulls most people away in itself.

Kitty Ellen (Hutter)!

Last but not least, Kitty Ellen headcanons!

I honestly dont know why I chose the Scottish fold. Just saw some photos and for some reason went "Fuck yeah, Ellen!!"

Unlike the other two, Id imagine Ellen to actually have a pet owner who possibly has both Thomas and Ellen living in the house.

No doubt she'd be spoiled to death, with a fancy pretty collar and a fancy little tag to go with it.

She likes watching birds outside the window because I said so >:]

Even though she has the chance to go outside like Id imagine Thomas to do, Ellen actually feels more comfortable just lounging around in the house and just doing cat things. Sure she will explore outside sometimes but she doesn't bother with it too much.

Shes a friendly affectionate cat who likes attention sometimes.

Yeah I dont have as many headcanons for Ellen as I do the other two surprising

And that's all I have for my Nosferatu cat AU. This is so dumb but I love it and it gave me the excuse to practice drawing different types of kitties! Im not sure for this how accurate everything is but Aaahhh

#Cat #Cat drawings #nosferatu 1922 #I may be cringe but I am indeed free #I love cats sm bro #I would 100% adopt Knock in a heartbeat...#Oh and Knock finds Orlok in an abandoned house Orlok probably stays in #and they probably spend the rest of their cat lives playing with the rats and cuddling #Sometimes I wish I was a cat #ellen hutter #Herr Knock #Knock #Count Orlok #Orlok

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ceph-the-ghost-writer · 1 year

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OCs as Animals Tag

Rules: Choose any Oc/s and pick an animal that relates to them and why. You can also include images or drawings of your own but don't have to.

Tagged by @autumnalwalker!

Tagging @vacantgodling @jezifster @late-to-the-fandom @authoralexharvey @korblez @andromedaexists @blind-the-winds @magic-is-something-we-create @tragicbackstoryenjoyer

Here we go:

Isaac: Llama/Alpaca. Smart, quick learner, and can carry more than his fair share of weight through tough terrain. Usually gentle and calm, but when mishandled he'll kick, bite, spit, and refuse to move another inch (just ask Renato). Llamas are braver and more solitary than their alpaca relatives, but will live among other creatures and serve as their guardians. Isaac's curly hair could be compared to the luxurious fleece of an alpaca (again, ask Renato).

Dorian: Pangolin. Rightly described as one of the most endearing creatures on Earth; 110% deserves a global holiday. Also one of the most hunted by unscrupulous people. Curious, great at solving problems, has a good memory, nocturnal, and friendly. Favors defense over offense. No one is immune to the urge to rub their tummy. Never goes anywhere without the protection of a coat.

Renato: Transient Orca. Divided from his own kind not by genes or appearance but hunting habits. Beautiful and deadly as the sea he was born on. An apex predator infamous for playing with his prey before consuming it. But also intelligent, creative, charming, and social, capable of adapting and learning to cooperate with humans and other creatures.

Kinslayer: King Cobra. A devourer of other, lesser serpents, paralyzing them before consuming the victim whole. Swift and powerful, to trifle with Kinslayer is to tempt death. And yet...despite their fearsome reputation they would much prefer to be left in peace, often only striking after extreme provocation or in defense. Cobra venom has also led to breakthroughs in pain medication. On the spiritual side, Sheshnaag, the giant cobra, is said by some to carry the planets on his many heads, and to shade gods as they lounge on his body. To others, cobras symbolize rebirth/reincarnation and creation itself, their coils moving time forward as they stretch, then slowing it to a standstill as they curl up once more.

Elfy: Siamese Cat. Elegant, highly energetic, talkative, playful, loyal and affectionate describes Elfy precisely. (It's true Siamese cats aren't often born deaf despite their blue eyes, but ignore that--it's also definitely part of who she is.) Also loves attention and takes harsh words to heart. Often becomes deeply attached to someone she's decided is her human (see: Isaac).

Ben: Neighborhood Stray Mutt. Part Polish hound maybe, part big shepherd, part who-even-knows-what. A bit uncouth and can be a troublemaker, yet everyone greets him by name when they see him strolling along the streets. Very protective of his territory and his people. Will attack anyone out to harm those viciously. Wary of strangers, but once he gets to know someone, he's affectionate and surprisingly gentle at times. Knows the simple things are best in life: eating, sleeping in a big pile, sex, and the occasional fight (real or friendly--especially if it also leads to sex).

Tilda: Escaped Captive Wolf. Maybe a bit too on the nose, but if it ain't broke, why fix it? Tilda is a (were)wolf with no idea how to wolf properly. Abused and caged from birth, she's only just learning how to handle her instincts, not react with violence due to fear, and be part of the pack. Having Dorian and Ben at her side has gone a long way toward helping. Still hates direct eye contact and probably always will.

Oleander: Honey Badger. Honey Badger dgaf and neither does Ollie. Nocturnal, mostly solitary, tenacious, and has few predators due to her tough hide and ferocious nature. Of course, honey badgers have been known to work with humans and other creatures in the interest of a common goal. Just don't try to screw her out of her share if you want to keep your windpipe intact.

#oc animal tag #writblr tag game #dysthanasia #writing tag games

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victoriabyrnearth101 · 6 months

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Activity 1:

I drew a picture of my boyfriend, Dan. I love him because he is sweet, caring, and very hardworking. He is constantly making me laugh in the most random ways. Whatever I am worrying about is usually set aside and feels distant when I am around him. He is also one of the busiest people I know as he is taking 26 credits this semester and is in numerous club and jobs. I made the background behind him purple because it is his favorite color. I like how it makes the details I drew pop. He is usually wearing shorts, even when it is snowing, so this was one of the few days he was wearing sweatpants. I enjoyed drawing the details in his clothes but I usually have a hard time drawing faces. I think this is because faces have so many details and can often look drastically different than the person you drew. I did my best with this drawing and I am actually pretty happy with it!

Activity 2:

On the Bonaventure trail I found some stones and wrote the word “love” with them. I thought the word represents communities well so I figured it would be a representative and positive word for others to see. I run on the trail almost every day and I have friends I made here, so I hope they see it. This is one of my favorite spots on the trail as well as I often see people resting on the bench with their adorable dogs.

Activity 3:

I threw a paint and sip party with my roommates and a few friends. Instead of wine we made personal pizzas which turned out really well. We adopted a stray cat that we found in the streets the day before so most people painted pictures of her. Her name is Mud and she is a really sweet cat! She was a fun addition to the party. Everyone said they enjoyed painting or drawing because they found it relaxing and overall had a good time!

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helga-heason · 1 year

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Letter #9

Dear Selina,

I hope this finds you well. I’m sorry for the month-long silence. It has been ridiculously hectic around here - and I’ve been doing basically nothing. There’s a weird unrest in the streets of Gotham, like some sort of rebellion is simmering, waiting for ignition. Myself and Gordon have been watching the Danger Twins like Gotham PD watches me (like overly cautious hawks) and so far they’ve behaved, but… There must always be a calm before the storm.

Speaking of storms, I think God saw the state of Gotham and decided to be kind to us for a while. We haven’t had much rain in months. So, of course, when I went out on a walk outside last night, there was a downpour halfway back to the cave. I wasn’t wearing the Batsuit at the time, and I feel a cold coming on. Although, to be fair, I’ve gotten colds even with the Batsuit on, so I can’t entirely blame the weather. I look a bit like a drowned rat when I get soaked, and you’d probably love teasing me for it. The Rat and the Cat, how’s that for a name? And thankfully it’s not El Rata Alada this time. I hope.

I’m writing this as I sit on the edge of the platform where the Batsignal is, Robin sat by my side, my legs dangling off the side and my feet kicking back against the wall now and then. Alfred has often said that you can tell I’ve been stuck in my traumatised childhood for a pretty long time through certain habits and beliefs - this habit being one of the tells. I mean, I don’t often sit here and kick my legs. I wasn’t really aware I was doing so until I started writing this letter, when it suddenly sunk in and hit me that my legs were moving. It’s oddly calming. It’s nice to just sit here as the city moves along below me, as the wind picks up a little and a breeze blows by. I actually rather like it when there’s a chill in the air - I find it refreshing. It is a bit of a pain when it’s particularly cold and I’m wearing the Batsuit, though.

Robin’s still bringing feathers back, but sometimes she’ll bring a stray cat or two as well. They don’t live here, only Robin does, but I’ll feed them and wash them and make sure they have somewhere to go before I send them out of the Batcave. Surprisingly, I’m not heartless. Both you and Robin have a thing for strays. I wonder if I do too? It seems I have found a second job in this city, rehabilitating and rehoming Gotham’s cats. With assistance from some of the Gotham PD, I might be able to get the calico cat bandits out of your old apartment. It’s a very strange life I lead, and this isn’t the first time I’ve thought that today. Loneliness can lead us to the darkest of places, but even in darkness, there is light. The light in this case being the new homes for the cats.

I’ve often wondered if this is my true vocation in life - chasing after petty criminals, solving ciphers, visiting the mayor and a guy who calls himself ‘the Penguin’, trying to flush out Gotham’s corruption, and trying to prevent the city from being flooded again - but I know, as the rain beats down on my skin and Robin meows like some deranged raccoon beside me, I’m right where I’m meant to be. This is who I am. For the longest time I thought that it was a weakness, that I needed to be someone or something else, but after meeting you and very promptly losing you, after reflecting on everything and keeping an eye on the Danger Twins… I see now that it’s a strength. I am Bruce Wayne, and I cannot change that - but maybe I don’t need to. I can only hope that you have the same sense of purpose that I now feel.

I hope you’re well.

Yours, always, the Bat(man) - and Robin the cat.

I promise you, some day, I will tell you who I am. And if you run away, it’ll hurt, but I’ll understand why, and I won’t chase after you.

#wherein bruce discovers the power of self-acceptance #the batman in rain is one of my favourite things #bruce's letters to selina #the batman #the batman 2022 #batcat

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queerhoodie · 1 year

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lives for the memory / a woman who's just in his head

she sleeps in his bed / while he plays pretend

so pretend

- she, harry styles

there's a woman in my mirror. i see her face everyday, i know her face like it's my own, and she's not me.

there's a little boy in my head, and he's scared, and he asks, is it safe to come out now? i want to let him out, but i say, no, just stay quiet for a little while longer, let's play pretend. let her sleep in our bed, we know what we really are.

so we lie, and we lie, and every so often the boy knocks and asks, what about now? not yet, i say, not knowing if there will ever come a time it'll be safe for him to come out. i don't want him to lose hope. not like i have.

the little boy and i, we dream of going places, visiting people. in our daydreams, we dream of going out, no weight on our chest, we visit people, and places. we look down, and we see our shoes, a straight line of sight through, no bumps or curves visible on us.

we go to a bus stop. there's an old woman wearing a little brown beret, and a matching sweater vest, and she's struggling to carry her bag up the few stairs of the bus. we run, and with a smile, we pick up her bag for her, and help her up in the bus. thank you, young man, she says, seated near a window, the corners of her wrinkled eyes crinkling up in a smile. young man. young man. the boy in my head replies, you're very welcome, ma'am, and you can hear the joy in the cracked baritone of his voice.

we walk through busy streets, dodging cyclists and angry people in suits, muttering into their phones, a frown etched on their faces. we pick stray flowers growing, and give it to the young boy walking by, and we watch a shy smile bloom as he stutters out a thank you. we duck into an alleyway, and stop near the entrance of a shop with glass windows. we kneel to gently beckon a tiny little grey cat, and it seems to trust us enough to let us pet it, and we do, and it purrs and purrs and, yeah, this is what life is about.

we hear the crackle of lightning above us, feel the water on our skin, and the little grey cat runs away, and the boy in my head says, might as well, his excitement palpable.

so we dance, and we jump in the rain, and god, we must look mad, but there's no one here, and i can hear the cracked, low cackles from the boy, so we dance, and we dance, and we dance. in no time, our jumper is drenched through, but that's okay, because it clings to our flat chest, and the boy he's, well. he's happy.

it doesn't last though. we catch a glimpse of us in the glass window of the store and we see the woman from the mirror, standing exactly where we should be. the boy in my head takes a sharp breath, and you can hear the panic when he asks, who's she? i reply, i don't know either. she waves her hand when we do, and she nods when we do, and she cries when we do, but i don't know who she is.

back in our waking world, we still have far too many curves, and our voice is far too high, and too many people look at us and say, hey, look at that young woman over there! look how pretty she looks! and the boy in my head lets out a sob, and curls himself into a hug, and i say nothing at all.

#ftm #trans masc #she #harry styles #fine line #cw: closeting

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0viciouslyvague0 · 3 years

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What it's like keeping them as cats part 2:

◇Character(s) Involved: Venti, Xiao and Zhongli

◇Genre: Fluff

◇Format: Headcanons

◇Au setting: Crack au where the Genshin characters are now cats

◇Summary: A continuation of my first headcanon! This time with Venti, Xiao and Zhongli as your cats. My wording may be slightly unhinged at times so just a heads up!

Venti:

◇My brother once told me that Venti reminded him of Thurston Waffles (please check that adorable fluffball out) and till this day the thought hasn't left my head, so because of that Venti is most likely a Siberian cat that may just be on the smaller side with white fluffy fur.

◇Venti is rather mischievous when left to his own devices, thankfully nowhere near Childe's level of chaos since he does have his lazy moments but you may find a few things out of place here and there with his toys being thrown about. He never bothers you when he thinks that you're busy but the moment you show any signs of having a slither of free time you can bet that he's meowing his heart out to you, trying his best to get your attention. The quickest way to quiet your little opera singer down is by carrying him close to you and smothering him in affection.

◇Venti is a rather lazy cat, usually choosing to sleep the day away under any ray of sunshine he can find in your home but on the off chance that he is in the mood to be active, he really does enjoy taking walks with you. You'll know that he wants his walkies by grabbing his walking harness by himself, plopping said item down by your feet and meowing loudly as if to convince you to bring him outside with you. During your walks, Venti likes to meow at any strangers he comes across, as if giving them a friendly greeting.

◇Venti is a very friendly cat so he's always more than happy to see you bring guests over. He adores the attention he receives and is very patient when being handled. If there's a particular guest that he really likes or is familiar with, he may meow and paw at them to pick him up and haul him around. He's honestly such a spoiled little furball but nobody seems to be able to deny his cries when they look at him with his big ole' eyes.

◇His favourite time to hang around you is in the kitchen, just like Diluc. However, unlike Diluc, this lil' shit actually tries to steal your food. He usually hovers by your feet when you're cooking, hoping to snatch a bite of whatever it is you're making, but if by chance nothing falls, then he may resort to stealing tiny nibbles of your food when you're eating. Luckily, he's usually satisfied after getting a taste and will leave you alone after you scold him.

(More under the cut!)

Xiao:

◇I think we all know what kind of cat Xiao would be. He's definitely a short-haired black cat, most likely a stray you picked up and cared for if I'm being honest.

◇Xiao likes to keep to himself for the most part but you realize that he often does so while being in the same room as you, usually hanging out in the darker corners of said room as if to blend in and remained unhidden. He tries his best to remain uninterested and unaware of your presence, as if he isn't following you around, but the moment you choose to move somewhere else, he's always hot on your tail.

◇Xiao isn't really fond of going outside, not really having the most pleasant of memories from his time as a street cat, so he much prefers being indoors, thank you very much. Though, despite being accustomed to a more domestic life, Xiao still has rather strong predatory instincts so he does have a tendency to hunt down any creature he finds lurking around the house. It's usually bugs that he catches and he'll always bring them to you as if to show you what he did. You can never hear it well because of how quiet it is, but Xiao will always purr when he brings you his latest victim, as if proud to have been able to protect you from a foreign being in your home.

◇Lord, Xiao hates when you have guests over but he also despises leaving you alone. He'll usually hide himself in an empty room to avoid being seen by anyone but the moment you let out any noise that he deems distressing you can bet that he's running over to where you are, claws barred and ready to fight anyone who may be hurting you. When you see him in such a state, please comfort and reassure to him that you're safe and unharmed. He may not seem like it but he cares a lot about you and is very protective.

◇His favourite time to hang around you is definitely when you're asleep. Bedtime is the only time you'll find Xiao willingly cuddling up beside you, but not for the reasons you may initially think. You see, when you're asleep it's easier for Xiao to take care of you because you're not moving around too much. In your sleepy state, it's much easier for him to protect you, something he's very adament on doing ever since you took him in and patiently cared for him.

Zhongli:

◇I know I've picked a bunch of weird cat breeds to represent the others but Zhongli's may be the oddest to some. I totally see him as a black Oriental Shorthair, they're very mature looking but in the most adorable way possible. Everything about them screams Zhongli to me.

◇Zhongli likes to keep close to you when he can, and he's very well-behaved while he does so. He's very mellow thanks to his old age so it doesn't take much to make him happy. One sure fire way to entertain him though is definitely by talking to him. He's a very chatty mister when he wants to be and he always perks up when you talk back to him as well. You once kept a conversation going with him for a whole hour, it was honestly rather entertaining.

◇Zhongli really appreciates his usual walks, and will often times hint that he would like to go out on one by meowing a little louder than usual by the front door, pawing at it a bit as if to show you what he wants. When outside he sniffs and observes everything he comes by, ocassionally tugging at his harness to go somewhere he finds especially interesting. He loves collecting shiny objects and pretty stones while out on his walk with you and is always delighted to see you hold onto the things he gifts you.

◇Zhongli doesn't mind if you have guests over, enjoying the sudden change in atmosphere if those you bring over are good friends or close family members of yours. He has a tendency to find himself on the lap of the more quiet guests you have in your home. Meowing in response to them if they ever decide to humor him by cooing or talking to him. He likes making sure none of your guests feel left out if others are talking.

◇His favourite time to hang around you is usually when you're watching something, be it on your tv, phone or computer. You found out that he really enjoys documentaries out of everything the two of you watch together, his eyes will always stay focused on the main topic at hand, never breaking his gaze from the screen unless you call out to him. It's honestly really cute watching him concentrate so hard on something he may not really understand.

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading if you did and I hope you enjoyed it! This post caused me so much trouble, I swear- but at least I had fun writing it. I may do another part involving the woman if I ever get the inspiration to do so. Also a big thank you to those who told me that letting your cat out solo is a no go, I really hope this change is at least a little better!

(Requests are open and Anon is on!)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #venti x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader

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youarejesting · 3 years

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Sly like a... ? Part 2

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 2.1k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

It was your dream to convert a large warehouse on the outskirts of town into a home and education center for Hybrids. Somewhere they could learn to be self-sufficient. You would have professors and volunteers, teaching and fundraising, all for the day you could buy another warehouse on the other side of town. You wanted it to become the norm that these Hybrid facilities would build and grow in every city. Allowing the Hybrids to become an independent race no longer looked down upon by society.

You were on the last day of your heat and craving something savory. As it was late your best option was the convenience store that was always open late.

Things were falling into place as you received an email earlier that day confirming that all the items you had requested were acquired. That meant school books, equipment, and more. You were also granted the first loan for the Hybrids, a loan you would receive every term. The board wanted no less than five and no more than ten participants for an adequate examination of results.

You assumed for the program to be officially approved, you would have to show successful results from Hybrids with different backgrounds during this trial. That meant different ages and different upbringings. Wondering if it was worth visiting the adoption agency or perhaps a Hybrid store, it wouldn’t hurt for more variables.

Shaken from your thoughts by a shadowed figure rustling through the garbage, in a dark alley between the antiques and postal office. Your ears picked up the sound easily, feet scuffing to a halt on the pavement catching the Hybrid’s attention. Their eyes searched the dark for any sign of threat before falling upon you, a deep growl resonating on the wind. It was best to not get involved with stray Hybrids, they tended to be more violent. This is what you were doing the program for, to stop Hybrids from ending up homeless and on the streets. To prove that they aren’t dangerous and are capable of learning.

Struck by an idea, if you could get a Hybrid from the street to join the trial program, you could prove they weren’t violent and show that given the opportunity they could all learn and grow into members of society.

“Can I buy you dinner?” You called out, voice cracking from the cold. Your breath puffed out like smoke visible between you both. The night brought you more energy, it made you feel alive.

Cars passed, their headlights illuminating the entire alleyway and reflecting in his eyes a blood-red. He stalked forward, his body moving gracefully but you could see he was hurt, his shirt ripped and there was a strong scent of blood in the breeze. That was a downside to having heightened senses. You tried to control the disgusted look on your face, “I will pay and there is nothing else to it, just sit and have dinner with me, so I don’t look like a woman in her mid to late twenties eating alone at a convenience store”

He looked you up and down, it was then you noticed his features, he was a feline, not a common house cat. No, he was a big predator.

“Do I look like some charity case? Some pathetic creature who needs help from a human?” His words rumbled from his chest in a growl. You wanted to correct him that you weren’t exactly human yourself but decided against it. Stuck somewhere between Hybrid and human you didn’t fit in either category.

“What’s it to you? My reason is my reason, just take the free meal. Hell! Exploit me for a free meal, anything you want, go crazy.” You shrugged, trying desperately to charm him. He seemed to contemplate his choices for a moment before turning to walk away. You scrambled for your wallet and grabbed out twenty dollars, holding it out to him.

“Wait! At least take this; if you don’t want to eat with me, get something warm, and here is my card if ever you need help.”

He eyed the money but didn’t move to take it. Hoping he wouldn’t rip your arm off, you grabbed his hand. You knew it was risky. His fingers were cold, but you didn’t want to linger and make him mad, quickly placing the money on his palm with your business card.

“Have a good night, mister,” He nodded confused about the whole encounter, before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving. It seemed even if you tried your best, it wouldn’t be enough to persuade him. He was too defensive, the best you could hope for was that he would stay safe in the cold.

What trials and tribulations must you go through to have these Hybrids trust and confide in you? Hopefully, it wouldn’t be this hard to get through to the group of Hybrids you were soon to obtain.

This was going to be a rather difficult experiment and you weren’t sure if it was going to go well but you hoped with every fiber of your being that you would see this through for the sake of the Hybrids.

That night you dreamed about the group of participants being hostile and unresponsive to the program, it did little to soothe your nerves the next morning. When you received an email about the new house. Jimin would have the key and would meet you outside later that day with the other Hybrids. No matter who they were, you were going to make sure they were achieving the best result they could.

The government had registered two Hybrids in your name, their files attached to the confirmation email. The two participants were so contrasting, Hoseok was a deer Hybrid, from a small farming family. The other was a Lion Hybrid by the name of Namjoon. He was from New Zealand and had participated in another government program regarding genius Hybrids.

Altogether, there were four: Namjoon the genius, Hoseok the country bumpkin, Taehyung, and Jimin. You decided to look for possible participants within the Hybrid store, and rehoming center. That would give you a wide variety of variables for the experiment; each would have a different background and would require different tools to help them.

You started at the nearest Hybrid shop. There were several rooms each with an observation window, a photo card, and a brief description of the Hybrid sitting, reading or playing video games inside. It was such a small space, how could they live in these tiny rooms every day until someone adopted them. Reading their descriptions by the windows you analyzed each of them, your attention caught by one playing video games. He had dark ears that stuck out from his dark hair. He seemed fun and you thought it would be easy to connect with him.

Hello, My name is Jungkook, I am twenty-three and I am a fully vaccinated Melanistic Jaguar.

You didn’t bother reading the rest, thinking you would like to learn about him properly, “Sir, I would like to adopt this Hybrid,” You declared, whilst walking towards the counter to begin the paperwork. Once everything was signed the young Jaguar boy was led from his small room. He looked nervous holding a small store backpack filled with all his essential items.

On the drive to the next location, you were the one doing most of the talking, receiving quiet one-word answers and small fidgets. He seemed excited when you finally parked the car, you guessed he was eager to see his new home.

However, as you walked towards the menacing rehoming center, he grew quieter and quieter, slowing to a stop before the entrance. Looking at his feet crying profusely, you realized how this must look. He must have thought he had done something wrong, how could he think you would buy him and rehome him on the same day.

“Jungkook, I am not abandoning you, I am picking up a brother for you to play with.” It took a few moments to console the young man. Wiping his tears and giving him a few pats on the head careful of his ears.

Deciding anyone younger than Jungkook would be too much to handle. “You have to help me find a big brother, someone you think will be really nice and that you like to play with, what do you think? Can you do that for me?”

Jungkook nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Okay, I can do that,”

The inside of the rehoming center smelt like disinfectant, you explained you were looking for another Hybrid and were led to a large room. There were Hybrids of all ages all playing and entertaining themselves with different activities.

It was overwhelming even for you, so you grasped Jungkook’s hand and encouraged him to look around, “Hey, what about ping pong?” You grinned at Jungkook who smiled playing a few rounds with you, the two of you giggling.

“Have I told you I am the ping pong master,” an older Hybrid grinned, he had a striped tail. You handed over the paddle and stood near Jungkook. “Do you want to play a game?”

Jungkook nodded, was this boy unable to say no. Either way, the two were getting along quickly, the older Hybrid was very playful and funny, even as he lost you were holding your sides from the laughter and Jungkook seemed to grow really comfortable with him.

Talking to one of the volunteers she explained that Seokjin was a raccoon hybrid and the oldest in the center. She explained that he often took the younger hybrids under his wing. It was an easy decision to adopt him. While you were filling out the paperwork, Jungkook was telling you all about his match with Seokjin.

“And I got the winning shot,” He grinned, swinging his arm like he was hitting an invisible ping pong ball.

“He seems really fun, would he make a good big brother?” It was cute how he nodded wholeheartedly. “Jungkook why don’t you go tell him that he is coming home with us?”

He grew embarrassed again, his dark ears twitching but followed the volunteer nonetheless. You were quick to finish up the last of the paperwork before the two came back laughing volunteer in tow.

“Unbelie-Bubble” Seokjin said before squeaking in laughter. He had all of his things and like Jungkook was nervous, but he showed it through talking.

You felt good with your selection, there was a Hybrid for every walk of life and socio-economic background. This would be perfect for the trial. They all seemed like lovely young Hybrids and you could already see them forming friendships.

It was on your way out that you saw a familiar face struggling against Hybrid control. “This is your last time, you know what happens to strays.”

“Wait!” You shouted, everyone in the lobby froze turning to look at you, the cold room felt quite warm with all of the attention “He is mine”

They froze looking between you and the hybrid before letting him go curiously. The injured Hybrid staggered over to you, knowing this was his best chance at survival, “why didn’t you tell them my name?” you asked him curiously but he kept his head down.

“This white tiger Hybrid is yours?” The handler spoke in disbelief, practically accusing you of lying. “why is he not microchipped, or registered in our system?”

“I was supposed to register him last week when I got him but I had been busy with work, I would like to properly register him under my name today,” You didn’t break under this man's pressure, you could notice the more he held eye contact the more he seemed to falter himself. “so that you will stop taking him in when he is harmlessly walking the streets”

The man opened his mouth to argue but you blinked up at him, watching him lower his hand.

“I am so sorry miss, we didn't mean to cause you trouble?” It wasn’t exactly odd behavior, you often found your arguments nullifying this way. You liked to think that your self-confident stare was what made people give in.

“Miss we have just noticed some suspicious activity in your account it says you have adopted four Hybrids today,” The woman behind the desk said, “We are legally required to ask your intentions or we can detain the Hybrids from you”

Almost questioning her, you remembered the government was placing two Hybrids in your name; they would be arriving today as well. With a smile you removed a folder from your bag, “I have a grant from the government.” You said brandishing the signed document, “I will be placing these Hybrids in my care”

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kodzukyan · 3 years

Text

talking to the moon

notes: yoshiwara au featuring samurai!baji x courtesan!(fem)reader! some fluff? angst. tw death! song recommendation accompaniments: yoshiwara lament - teto kasane & talking to the moon - kream!

wc: 2.3k

summary: yoshiwara is not meant for love, but you think it's far too late for you when you meet baji keisuke.

For as long as you can remember, your world has been seen through the bars of the harimise. A display, a product, for hours you would merely sit there and hope someone buys you.

The endlessly same scenery: the temple up north, the colorful vibrancy of kimonos, the bridge that leads southwards. Yoshiwara is always the same hustle and bustle of the lively streets. A day of ethereal beauty and strategic deceit; a night of lust and hushed promises, a so-called love that dispels with the first rays of dawn.

Once upon a time, you wanted to be someone who blooms for one person only, to love unreservedly. A childish dream to be free, to love fiercely. But fate steals your freedom and leaves you in the embrace of men who look at you as just another woman who warms their beds. Each bleak night as you look wistfully beyond the faceless man above you, the moon and stars sparkle, despite your torment, almost as if it’s mocking you for being unable to shine as they do.

With each passing day as you stare at your dull reflection in the polished mirror, bitterness seeps into your hardened heart. As your lips become redder and redder with used paint, the light in your eyes becomes dimmer and dimmer with dull indifference.

As if Yoshiwara bears your profound grief, it’s raining tonight. On such a day, you encounter him under the deep veil of darkness. His navy kimono contrasts vividly against your crimson lips, and the rosy pink that dusts his blushing cheeks gently warms your heart. He’s adorable, you think, as he grumbles and his friend nudges him towards the birdcage. Your eyes meet his, and his friend laughs and jostles him again towards you.

“Sir, won’t you please purchase me?” you smile sweetly, softly.

“I -” he starts.

“He would love to!” a new voice injects. His enthusiastic friend with blonde highlights smiles wolfishly.

“Welcome, please come in.”

You escort him to a room upstairs as the rain pours outside. When he cautiously enters your room, it is nothing like you are used to. He stands there awkwardly and runs a hand through his long locks.

“Would you like to sit? Perhaps a drink first?” you politely ask as you pat to the spot next to you.

It catches you by surprise when you can see the grays in his eyes as he looks at you instead of past you. He sits gruffly beside you and starts promptly, “We don’t have to do anything.”

You tilt your head, not really sure how to naturally proceed from here. But you've merely learned to comply, to satisfy, so you nod affirmatively and agree politely.

“In that case, what would you like to do?” you ask softly.

In a night meant for lovers between the sheets, he tells you stories of his adventures under the moonlight. You learn his name is Baji Keisuke, and he’s a samurai serving his childhood friend and the young lord of the Sano family. The one who ushered him here is one of his dearest friends named Kazutora, and they’ve been together since they were little. He loves feeling the adrenaline in his blood when he fights and often feeds stray cats because he thinks they’re cute. He unintentionally made his mom cry once when he was younger, so he swears he will never make her cry again.

He has dazzling eyes that tell no lies and an enigmatical smile that illuminates your heart, especially when he flashes his sharp canines that strikingly resemble fangs in his boisterous mirth. Outside, the continuous rain slows to a drizzle before it promptly stops. In your heart, he ignites a small spark of attainable hope.

A free spirit that contrasts very deeply against your very being. Unlike a trapped bird, he flies through the unclouded skies and undoubtedly makes life his own. His hearty laugh and vibrant eyes gently remind you what it's like to have hope beyond these four walls, to dream of a life of consuming love. You smile softly as he makes wild gestures with his hands, and you feel every insistent beat of your heart fluttering, thundering as he smiles affectionately at you.

Over and over again, he returns and buys your time instead of your used body. Time and time again, he talks naturally to you like you are someone in this world and listens to you like you are still good enough to be heard. Like the sun that melts away the darkness in your heart, your days spark a little brighter when he’s nearby. Instead of staring bitterly at your reflection as you paint your lips, the girlish dream you abandoned returns back to you.

Love whispers in your ears and knocks on your heart.

"Will you return?" you ask softly into the luminous night when he visits again. Once, twice, countless times to where you think you know him enough to remember what it’s like to love again.

As soon as the night ends, he has to leave. He will soar into the skies beyond the scope of your vision, beyond realms of the world you can only dream of because he's meant for something grander.

Still, you yearn.

"Where else would I go?" he answers as his eyes meet yours.

He clasps his rough hand around yours, eyes earnest and heart genuine, as he brushes against your knuckles tenderly. A hand full of calluses and blood, a hand used to wield swords and destructive weapons, but he cradles your hand so gently, tenderly, fondly.

"I will always come back to you."

You breathe out a quivering breath. You’ve heard these careless words countless times before from many other men, but his affectionate eyes are constantly full of genuine promises and unmistakable sincerity. You know Yoshiwara is the land of foolish dreams and lies, that Yoshiwara is unmeant for lovers.

Yoshiwara is not meant for the undeniable truth that you are irrevocably in love with him.

Still, you hope. You want to believe him, so you trust. You trust him with your vulnerability; you trust him with your heart. Under the veil of the night with the moon as your sole witness, you cut off a strand of your hair.

"For safe-keeping," you tell him as you tie your hair around his pinky, "Until you safely return."

He blinks once, twice before he smiles radiantly, fangs glinting in the light. He tugs a strand of his hair out before he clumsily wraps it around your pinky.

“There is something important I have to take care of,” he starts hesitantly. His eyes are looking into the darkness of the night, and for a moment, you can see weariness cloud his eyes. You reach to cradle his cheek, and at your touch, he looks at you. He holds your hand and presses a soft kiss on your fingertips. Newly found resolve beams through the clouds of doubt in his eyes. “But after that… Will you come with me?”

You stare incredulity at him, wide eyes carefully looking into his promising ones. He squeezes your hand as he stares anxiously back at you. The world is silent, and all you see is his gray eyes that have been your silver lining since the very first day.

He can’t afford to buy you, you know, and the fear of the consequences of running away burrows into your heart. But he looks at you, clear and open, and Heaven is in his eyes. You squeeze his hand back and bring it towards your lips to place a tender kiss on his palm. You think you’re far too ruined to be this optimistic about it, to dream of happiness like this, but you grin and nod anyway.

“I would go anywhere if it’s with you,” you smile, eyes and words honest.

He instantly breaks into an infectious grin, and he hugs you in eager excitement. “Thank you. I’ll be back by the next full moon. Wait for me,” he whispers fiercely into your hair.

You nod again as you melt into his comforting embrace. The flutters of your heart bloom into warmth in your chest, and it feeds into your heating cheeks as you hold on to him. The moon that invariably seems to look down on you, the stars that always seem to twinkle in critical disappointment softens as the lights of dawn overtake the sky.

A new day, a new hope.

He holds his pinky up, your hair tied on and your heart in the palm of his hands, as he looks at you. When you meet his eyes, the first rays of light glows behind him. He looks beautiful, angelic, and he seems so ephemeral. You hook your pinky, with his hair tied around it, with his in hopes that these fleeting moments will last just a moment longer, that this will be more than just a dream when you wake up.

A lie, a promise, you’re not quite sure which it is.

(You hope it’s a promise. You want it to be a promise.)

So, you wait. Day after day, night after night, and all the moments in between. You miss him like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky, but he fuels a fire in your heart that keeps you warm on the nights he isn’t here. It hasn’t rained for a long time now, you think, as you glance at your pinky and sunshine fill your soul. During nights, you keep your promise close to your heart as you stare at the phases of the moon. Waxing and waning, but your heart holds steady as you dream of boisterous laughter and lively eyes.

On the day of the full moon, you wait anxiously as people pass by. You’re on high alert as your eyes eagerly scan the crowd for any signs of him - his navy blue kimono, his long hair, his hearty laughter. As the blue sky turns to brilliant orange before it fades into the darkness of the night, the crushing weight in your heart grows heavier and heavier before the numbing realization that he won’t come hits you.

When the full moon peaks in the unclouded sky, only silence surrounds you. You sit lifelessly in front of your mirror at the end of the night with the full moon as your sole company. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting here as you mindlessly keep brushing your hair.

The overbearing heaviness finally breaks your heart and breaches the dam that restrains your tears. You muffle your cries in your kimono because you should have known better, should have known that dreams are unmeant for someone like you. You glance wistfully at your pinky before you clutch it close to your shattered heart, and all the energy in your body just comes out as silent sobs. As you bury your face in your knees and hug yourself, each fond memory comes back and replays in your head.

A mistake. This is a terrible mistake because you know Yoshiwara is built of lies like these. But when you think of his sincere eyes, your heart breaks again. Baji Keisuke is many things, but he is rarely a liar. You want to believe in him, want to believe in the dream of a life with him beyond these walls.

Maybe it’s not this full moon, you tell yourself, but he will return one day. The next full moon, the one after that, and all these other ones after, you’ll keep waiting. You believe in him, believe in love, so you will hold on steadfastly, stubbornly, desperately because you don’t think your heart can handle it otherwise.

In just another day of waiting in the similar scenery, you catch glimpses of a spark from the temple northwards. A new sight, but among the lively streets of just another busy day, it’s not a sight you focus on. The sparks are nice, though, you think as you suppress a giggle, because it reminds you of the fire in his eyes.

When it reaches dusk, the scorching winds blow from the northeast. The direction you watch him go from the confines of your birdcage, and when you still see the sparks, a foreboding feeling, a bad omen sinks into your heart as the sun falls.

The initial flare grows bigger and bigger until it bursts into a firestorm and begins swallowing the town. You run frantically alongside the chaotic crowd as the screams fill the air and fear fills your blood. You run, run, run until your legs are burning - from the fire? From fatigue? You’re not sure.

Your heart breaks with every step you take because death comes knocking. You keep holding on stubbornly because you still believe in your promise. But soon, your legs only carry you so far amongst the fleeting crowd and falling buildings and smoke fills your lungs and chokes you.

As fire devours you, you glance at the waxing moon. It ruthlessly tears through your skin and burns, burns, burns, but the pain of breaking your promise rips through your heart.

All you can think about are the moonlit nights under the same skies within the four walls you call home and the man you know as love. You think of his starry gray eyes and the promise you couldn’t keep, and you clutch your hand over your heart. Close, so, so close, but not quite another full moon yet. With sorry repeated on your cracked lips and lament in your anguished heart, your uncontrollable tears fall hopelessly.

(The news of the tragic death of a singular samurai, holding his bleeding hand to his heart, in the Battle of Valhalla never reaches you.

After all, fire travels faster than words.)

The deafening sound of crackling fire plays your requiem and ends the unfulfilled dream of love.

end notes: harimise is a viewing cage where courtesans were placed in, like products on display at shops. they sit there the whole day until someone buys them.

the act of cutting off your hair and tying it around someone's pinky is a lover's pact. basically, it's a vow of love between a courtesan and their customers, where they offer their hair, nails, and blood to seal the deal. it could be used to extort more money from the customer, but it could also just be a promise of love.

also fun fact: historically, yoshiwara did end up burning in a huge fire that originated in a temple! :")

#baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji angst #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #baji x you #baji keisuke x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers angst #i was working on another baji wip but then this took over LOL #one day we will have happy baji stories but today is not the day 😔#but literally baji in his navy blue kimono/yukata and high ponytail plagues my mind #so here we are <3 #sometimes i write things #i hope this shows up in the tags lol #also i read somewhere that palm kisses mean i trust you #i hope hes not too ooc?? i feel like baji is awko taco when it comes to love tbh HAHAH

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aiweirdness · 4 years

Text

My Name is Bot

Text-generating neural networks can do a lot more now than they used to. When I first started generating things with neural networks, sentences and even simple phrases were mostly beyond them (that didn’t stop me from trying, with hilariously inept results). But now programs like GPT-3 can keep track of much larger blocks of text, capable of writing multi-question personality quizzes (as long as you don’t mind that the tests make no darn sense).

Now here’s one I’ve wanted to do for a while: there’s a form of poetry called bredlik, introduced in late 2016 CE by Sam Garland after a cow was discovered licking the loaves at a bakery:

my name is Cow, and wen its nite, or wen the moon is shiyning brite, and all the men haf gon to bed - i stay up late. i lik the bred.

With its pseudo-Chaucerian spelling and meter of strict iambic diameter, bredlik is one of my favorite things the internet has produced. And, now that the interest in bredlik has declined from “very niche” to “virtually none”, it’s the perfect time for me to see how a state-of-the-art neural net does at generating bredlik poems.

I gave GPT-3 15 example bredlik poems, focusing on those that stuck to the standard 8-line length. I also included a (subject, verb, object) header to each poem so I could specify the topic. The cow poem above, for example, got (cow, lick, bread) as a header. Then I gave GPT-3 a few headers to add to, and here’s what it produced:

(giraffe, trick, bot) my name's giraf, and on the veld i lik to pley with bouncing gait but when it's cold i shiver, no. my tunge wil bach, i trip the bot.

(bot, make, memes) my name is bot and wen i memz i go into the street i maek the sound lik dok dok dok lik boom boom boom but all at once i see a meme and i can't meme.

It’s close. It’s soooo close. Terrible, though. It does make an effort to match my prompt, even when I sabotage it with way too many syllables or something:

(cat, eat, broccoli) my name is cat, and wen i feel the smell of treat, i jump up fast from box or seat, and run and leap and seize the feep, and say, yum, meep!

(moon, moon, moon) my name is moon and wen it’s night and stars are out and you don’t see a single sound I am the one to set your heart I moon the moon

It occasionally gets the rhythm right, though it’s curiously bad at counting lines. It tries to do the pseudo-Chaucerian spelling but some of its misspellings are so weird that I suspect it’s just making up words. Other times it uses real archaic English, which is not the point of bredlik but it’s still kinda cool that it drew the parallel. Note that it is also almost following the rhyming scheme, especially if you take some liberties with how you pronounce the made-up words. For the rest of the poems in this post, GPT-3 generated not just the poem, but the prompt as well.

(Sheep, graze, name) My name is Sheep and wen it’s nyght i like to bleepe with shut and ee and munch upon the buettom green of grounges fourm i lik the name

(fish, lick, thing) my name is fish, and wen i see the mote that doth bestow upon me the gift of life and givith unto me a watery strife i thank the fen i lik the thing

(bell, scare, doom) my name is bell and wen you kno the wyld dark nere to Hell’s abyss and in the mire the dead a roon you think it’s naym the bells will toon i scare the doom

I’m surprised at how often GPT-3 did manage to get close to bredlik, since AI-generated poetry is notoriously hard, and even careful scripting can produce glitchy poems with unexpected odes to mining company Alusuisse. Still, in this post I’m only showing a few of the generated poems - most of them not only fail to fit bredlik, but do so in a boring or unsatisfying way. The exception is this poem, which has definitely strayed from bredlik, but on the flip side contains the phrase “beely might”.

(Bee, use, thief) My name is Bee and wen I see a moth upon a tree I use my beely might and steal it from its fight And then I lik the thieft

Subscribers get bonus content: more neural net bredlik poems than would fit in this post, including many that are for some reason quite unsettling.

My book on AI, You Look Like a Thing and I Love You: How Artificial Intelligence Works and Why it’s Making the World a Weirder Place, is available wherever books are sold: Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

#neural networks #gpt-3 #bredlik #i lik the bred #bredlik poetry #poetry #poems

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Scream Therapy

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: extremely vague allusions to mental illness, metaphors about wounds, angst with a relieving ending, let me know if i’ve missed something

AO3 mirror

So you know those tiktoks where people go out into the woods and scream? Just like expel all the shit that’s been holding them down into an open field and let the earth reclaim all their dark, restless energy? Reveal the burdens that have been creaking in their joints and trapped in the prison of their ribs for the trees to swallow?

I’ve been thinking about that and Shigaraki a lot.

Like the rest of the league too, but mostly Shigs.

Just imagine:

It’s late, it always is when shit is going down at the hideout. The League of Villains is practically nocturnal at this point. Shigaraki’s mind is a loud place—lot’s of rabid, train tearing down the track lines of thought that clatter and roar and gush toxic coal smoke.

So as annoyed as he makes himself out to be, he doesn’t actually mind the din of the bar all that much. Twice and Toga chattering in the corner, random bits of too loud laughter and the clink of Kurogiri polishing glasses as he tells off Dabi for the umpteenth time about smoking inside—hell, even Compress rambling about the health benefits of high quality wine to nobody in particular is somewhat...comforting?

That’s not quite the right word, but their noise settles around him a bit like a thick quilt and dampens the rampage inside his head for a while.

He thinks about a lot of things.

Some good, most bad, all obsessive. He’ll get stuck in these loops sometimes, small questions evolve into bigger, more complicated webs, and suddenly it’s been four hours and he’s done nothing but stare at the same spot on the wall just left of his desktop monitor.

Sleep is a terrifying venture for much the same reason. Once he gets caught in that cycling it’s so hard to break out, and that’s when he’ll stumble down the stairs and sequester himself away at the end of the bar.

There he will sit and listen to the incessant white noise of his team—which is frustrating too but infinitely better than whatever anxiety coated sludge his brain will come up with if left to its own devices, so he bears it.

And then there’s you.

Who you are isn’t entirely important.

Maybe you’re just another member of the League, dedicated to helping your boss spread villainy across the city. Maybe you’re a morally ambiguous civilian who just stumbled in much like a stray cat into a depressed college student’s apartment and simply never left.

Whatever the circumstances, where you came from doesn’t matter.

To him, your contributions to the din are just another layer of insulation against the storm. He couldn’t really care less what you do, or where you go when you weren’t there. As long as your voice could offer a different type of grating against his ears than the silent throbbing of his head when he is alone, then your presence is justified.

Shigaraki only takes notice of you when you leave, when your voice is no longer adding to the uproar drowning out whatever new thought spiral he was trying to claw his way out of.

It’s very late then. That odd, in between time when it’s closer to the sunrise than to it’s setting but somehow also the darkest portion of the night. Of course, it’s never totally dark—not with all the light pollution laying an ever present, glowing haze across the horizon—but it’s as close as it gets out here to pitch black.

He catches the tail end of your coat, a glimpse of your shoe soles as you slip up the stairs and climb the wrought iron ladder that leads to the roof. Shigaraki often catches himself wondering how you figured out exactly how to avoid each board that creaked. He thinks sometimes it’s because you like going unnoticed, that too much attention makes you feel just as shaky as he gets when he’s been inside his head too long. Or possibly you just don’t want to wake anyone up in the rare moments that some League members are actually asleep.

Regardless, he watches you go and feels strangely...compelled to follow and because he rarely feels compelled to do anything unless it’s furthering the downfall of hero society, he does.

He takes an unsteady step, then another until the brisk, cusp-of-summer air is washing over him. It bites through his thin black top and the worn holes in his jeans, but the sting feel likes something.

And since he almost always feels nothing at all, it’s good.

You’re stood a few feet from the edge of the building, where the ledge has begun to crumble away from age and poor maintenance. The wind is strong enough that it makes your limp arms sway by your sides. Shigaraki is so thin now, he’s almost afraid for a moment it might blow him away. He’s found himself feeling so insubstantial as of late, it’s shocking when his feet don’t lift off from the roof entirely. He crosses the distance towards you slowly.

If you hear him approaching, you don’t show it.

Normally he wouldn’t start a conversation of his own volition but he did follow you up here and the silence is getting a bit deafening, even with the breeze.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

It’s simple, but it’s all he can think to say. Funny, with how many words that run through his head, he can never find the right ones when he wants them.

You turn then, and your face is...well it’s a face. He tends not to look at people’s faces much—doesn’t want to see their expressions when they look at him, but from what he can tell you aren’t upset that he’s here at least.

“I love the city at night.”

That’s all you offer in response and he knows somehow that you’ll keep talking even if he doesn’t answer. That you know how much he hates the quiet but can’t ever fill it himself.

“When you’re up high enough, you can pretend the streetlights are stars,” you divulge, as if it’s some sort of great, long kept secret.

Maybe it is.

Maybe you have a lot of secrets. You seem to him like the type of person who would. Who keeps life changing truths tucked under your tongue to drop suddenly over convenience store dinners and cheap beer.

He thinks that maybe he’d like to know them.

“It’s always so alive during the day, the streets I mean,” you continue, eyes trained out on the buildings below, tracing constellations from block to block. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s rotting too like….”

You trail off and don’t finish the thought, but you don’t have to. He knows what you mean: like the city is a wound that’s festering. That all the people and the heroes that corral them like cattle are just an infection waiting to spread.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, because he hasn’t been able to come up with anything else.

Your gaze flits over his face this time, and Shigaraki almost misses the small smile that plays at your lips. He’s close enough now that you could touch him, and you almost do, shoulders just inches away from brushing. But you don’t close the gap.

You touch the others, a lot actually, though he gets the sense you’re the type to ask first. And with his mind running on overdrive every waking second, he gets overstimulated easily. He should probably be thankful you aren’t as familiar with him. That you bother to notice the distance he keeps even when he rarely pays you any mind.

Maybe you’re thankful for that too.

“You know, scream therapy is a very effective and cheap alternative to professional intervention,” you say matter of factly in response.

He waits for you to continue and you do.

“There’s no one out this late but heroes on patrols and they won’t come to help us, so this is a perfect opportunity to give it a try.”

He can feel his brow knitting together and you raise your hand for a second as if to smooth your thumb over the wrinkled skin. Shigaraki doesn’t move, but watches your fingers pause in mid motion and drop back down.

There’s a strange charge in the air between you—a spark he distantly wishes would ignite if only so he could stop churning in his gut.

“How do you do it?”

He’s never asked so many questions of anyone in his life. But he finds he truly wants to know.

And you’re the one that can show him.

You breathe deeply beside him, letting your eyes drift shut and taking a step towards the ledge. With hands balled into righteous little fists, you bend a bit at the waist and you...scream.

Shigaraki isn’t quite sure what he’d expected, but for some reason it wasn’t that.

He’s heard shouts before, cries for help or out of fear, but nothing like this. The sound seems to bubble up from some deep, dank pit inside you and bursts forth from your mouth like a geyser spewing boiling water from the earth. It’s long and low and loudloudloud. It isn’t a sound he could ever imagine you making, but it rumbles in his chest as if it’s his own.

Just watching has a weight lifting from his shoulders.

You keep going even when he knows you should have run out of air. But you aren’t really making the noise, you’re just letting it escape. He’s not sure how he knows that but he does.

Your voice cracks and snaps and rages forth and you scream in a way he feels in his very bones. The garbled, awful sound is so clearly understandable despite the wind that carries it away.

It says: I am free and young and can feel none of it.

And then it’s words. Words that tumble from you in a torrent.

About your family, about what’s been done to you, what you’ve done to yourself.

About the lies and the injustice of it all.

You’re heaving by the end, deflated as though all the screams had left behind an empty space—an abscess drained and ready to heal over or fill back up.

“It’s your turn.”

Shigaraki stares at you, silhouetted by the dull, silver glow of the city and panting. You both look at each other for a moment, reveling in the odd connection that sometimes forms between strangers who know far too much about each other.

He doesn’t think he could top that, but the energy you’ve created is invigorating and he’s determined to ride the wave while he has it.

Taking a step, he joins you by the ledge again, and you back up as if allowing him into the spotlight. The wind will swallow whatever he says, it will eat the words like a starving behemoth and he finds himself ready to feed the beast.

He has to dig deep, scratch at old sores to make them bleed again, tear at scabs so he can let the contaminating thoughts leak out. Once he feels like he’s breached far enough, Shigaraki takes a breath.

And he screams.

His body doubles over with the strength of it, foot slamming down onto the roofing and four fingers fisted in the hem of his shirt.

It hurts coming out, rips at his vocal chords and has his throat raw to bleeding after just the first few seconds but he pushes past it.

He wonders if this is what a runner's high feels like, when you’ve pushed beyond the side stitches and knee aches and your blood finally rushes with all those elusive feel good chemicals he never has enough of.

Whatever it is, the feeling is addicting.

Shigaraki is dimly aware of you in his peripheral, encouraging the tsunami thoughts in his head to be thrust out into the uncaring arms of the city skyline.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have to search for the words. They simply come. All his frustrations, some he wasn’t even conscious of, spill fresh and steaming like blood. Physically, his body remains but somewhere in the depths of his mind he is younger and hurt and alone and trying desperately to scream.

“I destroy everything I touch!” he roars at the apathetic, grey sidewalk below.

After the last word leaves him, he feels the same weightlessness he’d seen in the sag of your shoulders. The same snapping of the coil slack in his spine.

And suddenly, with this glorious, awful sense of revelation, Shigaraki realizes that everything in his head has gone quiet.

He’s over taken by a silence that requires no filling, a peace that he’d imagined only existed at the bottom of abandoned wells, far away from any chubby child’s hands that may toss foolish wishes down them.

He thinks about kissing you then.

And he knows now that this thought has always been there, but it was drowned like a subway rat in the aftermath of the hurricane brewing in his brainstem. He has always noticed you no matter how hard you try to blend into the background. Your voice has always been a bit better at shutting out the unending, worthless choir in his head.

He wouldn’t have followed anyone else up here—not Dabi, not Spinner, not Compress or even Kurogiri.

He can see that now. In this new enlightened state, everything is so much clearer. Though he is quickly thrust back into the present, into his body once again, as another kind of soft weight settles on his shoulders. Your coat is skin warmed and smells like you and everything he’s ever loved in his own screwy little way. He realizes then that you’ve been trying to talk to him this whole time.

“Shigs,” you call again and tuck the coat tighter around his shoulders, “you were shaking.”

Shigaraki nods, feeling relief from the cold he hadn’t quite been aware of till now. He’s not sure if you’ve ever addressed him so informally before, but he decides he likes the nickname.

It feels a bit like a gift.

“Better, yeah?”

He’s not really sure if it’s better, but it is different and it’s been impossibly long since anything has been different, so he thinks it must be good.

“Yes,” he says.

It’s a general yes, both to your question and to you, whatever that might mean. He doesn’t say anything more because he’s done enough talking and you nod like you understand.

Neither of you moves to leave the roof, but you do inch closer to him this time, closing the gap and tucking him into your side. Your arm is slung gently across his shoulders and he finds the weight of it relieving.

That seems like it shouldn’t make since but it does—a paradox of sorts, weight being a comfort.

Then the sun begins to rise and it’s as if he’s seeing you in a new light.

Your profile outlined by the stark daybreak rays, so horribly strong despite the scream he knows is forming again under the surface.

And Shigaraki wonders if you see him that way too.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #tomura shigaraki imagines #gender nuetral reader #slight manga spoilers #bee.writes

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