#my friends cat attacked my face and clawed the FUCK out of it
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#i cannot fucking do this anymore#every word that comes out of my mouth is somehow inciting a fight with my mom#i feel like I'm hurting everyone around me by being here#i want to leave and just like. fuck off and live in the woods#i can't trust the family I thought I could#my friends cat attacked my face and clawed the FUCK out of it#i just want to cry and sleep all the fucking time#i was getting better#goddammit#the only fucking thing I want#i would do fucking ANYTHING if gunk would give me one last chan s#chance*#I've done so much self reflection and addressed all of the things I DIDNT EVEN KNOW WERE PROBLEMS so I don't even do them anymore#and like. 2 years and 9 months is a long fucking time#and it was beautiful and amazing and our healthy relationship something everyone around us would fucking compliment us on#and there were things I did that were not good near the end#some of them were related to my mental health which doesn't excuse but does explain#but some of it was crossing boundaries I didn't fucking know were there#he took the friend group in the divorce so I have FUCKING NO ONE that isn't 2+ hours away#not to sound entitled but i think I deserve enough respect considering how long we were together of one more chance to prove I can do bette#when now I'm not being told every time I ask 'hey did I upset you/did I cross a boundary' that everything is fine#like I would do anything#and I'm trying so hard to be a better person to be able to show him that we deserve a second chance but every time I walk into my own home#i immediately have to fight the urge to want to fucking jump off the roof#rant#vent#gunk
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i've killed you once
gif not mine!
alastor x f! reader
warnings: mentions of killing
wc: 1,300
You were in Hell, and you weren’t even shocked that you ended up here. You were now a stunning cat demon, well half cat demon. You had cat features, your ears, claws, and tail. The rest of you looked human still. You’re dressed in a deep burgundy flapper dress that had a black beaded fringe overlay. Thick curls framing your face, that always had flawless makeup. Satin black opera gloves to your elbows. Your wedding ring still on your finger, you quickly made a name for yourself on this side of the pentagram, taking over for this bitchy overload who thought you couldn’t defend yourself in a fight. The souls you own and everyone in your territory just calls you Kitty, not many people have the pleasure of knowing your real name.
You’ve been seeing the hotel run by Lucifer’s daughter during commercial breaks deciding to go and see the hotel for yourself believing in her cause. You were willing to offer help if she needed it. Knocking on the door you waited less that a minute for an answer.
“Hi welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” the princess’ cheery voice greeted you. Smiling at her you introduced yourself thanking her. She guided you into the parlor to meet everyone.
“Everyone this is Kitty! Kitty this is Vaggie, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk, and Alastor is around here somewhere." she says gesturing to everyone. “We’re getting ready for my Dad’s visit. Would you mind helping?” she asked you with a hopeful smile.
“Not at all. Just tell me what to do” you tell her more than willing to lend a hand. As you were setting up you got to know Angel Dust and Pentious. You also caught up with Husk, you haven’t seen him in some time. You took time to even get to know Vaggie and Charlie, until the sound of static cut through the air.
“Cher?” the nickname being one you haven’t heard since losing your lover in 1933. You glance up meeting red eyes, and an ever-present grin.
“Baby?” your voice getting caught in your throat, seeing him again. Making your way to his open arms, he held you close. It reminded you of the night you lost him. Before your reunion could continue Lucifer arrived. You moved to stand next to the guys.
“Charlie why don’t you introduce me to your other friends” Lucifer suggests turning away from Alastor making you giggle at their interaction. He made his way through everyone placing a kiss on your hand as he introduced himself to you. Static rang through the air again from Alastor, his grin strained as he looked at Lucifer holding your hand. Pulling away from him you snatch a cookie off the table snacking on it. You all stood by as Lucifer and Alastor started singing.
“Does everybody just burst into song here?” you ask laughing.
“Yeah toots, it’s a daily thing here” Angel says laughing with you. Everyone just chats away as they battle for the song until a grating voice that you hated even more than when you were alive. Fucking Mimzy, you wished you would’ve escaped this bitch. You growl as she wraps her arms around Alastor. Angel and Husk each put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. He dismisses himself to continue the tour with Charlie. You all made your way to the bar, you stood next to Husk. Tuning out Mimzy’s story but catching out the corner of your eyes as Husk walked away. You followed Husk and witnessed his interaction with Alastor. You rushed to his side helping him up, watching Alastor walk away.
“Let’s go back to the others Husk” you held his hand gingerly walking him back to the bar. Walking back to a ton of commotion. You see Mimzy ducking on the floor as whoever was outside looking for her yelled her name.
“What the fuck did you do bitch?” You growl at the blonde ready to attack her.
“I may be in trouble with some loan sharks. May or may not have borrowed fifty grand...” she runs to hide behind the bar next to Husk. “And I may have stolen a car and crashed it into the loan shark’s girlfriend” she finishes. Angel stopped you from lunging at her. Trying to handle the damage that’s being caused because of Mimzy.
“I’ll take care of this” you heard Vaggie’s voice from behind you.
“No, my dear, leave it to me. Its time I remind everyone why I’m here”
“Finally! It took ya long enough.” Mimzy sounds excited, and you do your best not to hit her. You watched in awe as Alastor grew and tore the loan sharks to pieces. You enjoyed the sight of watching him in his zone. Once he was done you made your way outside to him. Reaching his side, he grabbed your hand pulling you to him.
“Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show.” Mimzy says walking out, continuing to thank him. You growl at her cutting her off.
“You need to leave bitch” you look her in the eyes, your cat like pupils in slits and your tail viciously swaying.
“Calm down Kitty, you don’t mean that” she says laughing.
“I mean it bitch. Do yourself a favor and remember that I’m the reason you’re here” you remind her, your claw poking her nose. You pull away from Alastor, staring her down.
“But Alastor loves takin care of me” she says trying to lighten the mood. You wrap your claws around her neck cutting her off.
“I killed you once Mimzy, best believe I’ll do it again.” Your tone deep before you toss her to the side. As she scrambles to get up you walk back into the hotel. Her and Alastor exchange a few more words, and he reminds her she needs to leave.
“Come here cher” his command was firm. You grasp his hand before his shadows consume you both. You appeared to be in what you’re assuming is his room. Of course he had the bayou attached to it. “Now enlighten me on what you said to Mimzy” the static in his voice calmed you down.
“After you died, I just ended up working to take care of myself. But I also continued killing to feel close to you. I’d use my looks to lure men in and kill them. It was easy and most men are stupid. Then Mimzy made a comment ‘You don’t know how to take care of yourself now that Alastor ain’t around” it made me snap. I waited for her to be through with her show at the lounge. I offered her a ride as a friend, even gave her something to drink. I used powdered potassium it made it look natural. She was found dead in her house. I handled her arrangement since I played the “grieving best friend ” so well. I gave her a better send off than she deserved. The cops never caught my trail of the men I killed. I died of natural causes years later in our little cabin.” You told him the story of how the rest of your life went after his passing. If his grin could get wider, it would. He asked you to elaborate on the men you killed and Mimzy. He couldn’t be prouder of his wife. He stood up grabbing your cheeks with his clawed hands pulling you in for a kiss.
“ Oh, how I’ve missed you darling” he said pulling away keeping his hands on your waist. Your hands finding their place on his chest.
“I’ve missed you more” your voice sounds silent compared to the sounds of the bayou. Alastor pulled you in for a hug enjoyed your presence that he has missed for so long.
#alastor x reader#xreader#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor imagine#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#alastor the radio demon
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No Words Needed
In which Caleb fails his intimidation check and the Nein use their squishy wizard as a distraction. Critickle role fic!
Fandom: Critical Role (The Mighty Nein)
Words: 2,938
AO3 link
A/N: Listen, I ship Caleb with laughing and being loved and I simply could not handle the silliness of him hanging upside down by his ankles without doing something about it. So here’s my take on an alternate version of the rope trap scene in episode 50.
“You do not want to tangle with the spirits I command!” Caleb snaps his fingers as he says this, summoning both his cat and four floating globules of light into existence in front of him. The swoosh of his hand to cast comes out a bit harder than he intends, and he can feel himself swing side to side with a bit more intensity. His coat falls down even further and he chokes on the end of his sentence, coughing as both his coat and a bit of dislodged dirt from the cavern ceiling fall right onto his face. Frumpkin lands sideways on the ground a few feet away, letting out an indignant yowl. Somewhere to his left, Caleb can hear Beauregard fail to stifle a snort.
There’s a tense pause. Then - cackles. The pack of kobolds are nudging each other and pointing at the slowly swinging Caleb, hooting and hollering with laughter. In between the kobold cackles, Caleb can hear the muffled chuckles of his friends.
This is unfortunate.
Caleb reaches up quickly, trying to push his coat back down. Unsuccessfully. It slumps right back down in his face.
As he does this, the armored kobold leader turns to look at the pack over his shoulder, a crooked but sharp grin appearing on his face as he waves his shortsword towards the slowly swinging prey right in front of him. There’s an almost-palpable electric excitement crackling in the air. Caleb can barely hear the words he speaks next, but he recognizes them - he’s too disoriented to tell if it’s through his spell or because they’re in Common, but it doesn’t really matter. They make his blood run cold either way.
“Get large food! Go!”
Immediately there's a whooping battle cry that rings throughout the cavern, and with a swoosh Caleb feels himself swing backwards wildly as several kobolds leap forward, their claws finding purchase on his body. He grimaces and brings his hands up to block, readying himself for an attack.
There’s a flurry of movement to his left as the rest of his party is spurred into action as well. Caleb hears Fjord summoning the falchion with a whoosh. Nott nocks an arrow into her crossbow swiftly and lifts it up, ready to fire. Beau is in a battle-ready position instantly, lurching forward.
The kobold leader spins to face them, shortsword out. “No touch food! We eat you next, huh?”
It’s at this point that Caleb’s focus is yanked away from whatever his friends are doing - by a sudden, startling, feeling on his side. He’s halfway through the hand motions for Fire Bolt - aiming for the rope in hopes of burning through it to free himself - but he drops his hands on instinct, trying to swat away the kobold that is currently using it's back feet to cling onto him while it digs around in his book holsters. The kobold only clings on tighter, and its tiny, sharp claws prod deeper into Caleb’s ribs. Caleb chokes on a yelp and squeezes his eyes tightly shut.
He had forgotten about this particular sensation. It's been years since he felt it, and a large part of him assumed that he would never feel it again - that he would never be allowed to feel it again. He had put it out of his mind, locked the memory away in one of the many dark corners of his mind.
But here, with the kobold nails scratching against his sides, there’s no ignoring it.
Those claws really fucking tickle.
And Caleb is possibly even more ticklish than he remembers.
He clenches his hands into fists and bites down on his tongue. He needs to keep that particular bit of information out of his friends hands.
The kobolds are really scouring his form now - digging through any and every pocket and poking and prodding around his holsters and down his legs all the way to his ankles. Their nails are sharp but they no longer hurt - they’ve moved on to a far worse feeling. One that has Caleb squirming side to side in a desperate attempt to get away and forces him to bite down hard on his lip to keep a snort at bay. Scheiße, this is not good. He needs to get out of this rope.
Suddenly Caleb feels a firmer poke in his ribs. He yelps without thinking, and looks over to see…oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
A larger kobold, wearing a mischievous grin. Jester. Right next to him, eyes bright, and one finger held out in his direction.
Caleb opens his mouth to say something - and promptly closes it again, swallowing a gasp that feels a bit too much like a giggle for his liking, as a kobold pokes a particularly sensitive spot next to his holsters. He bites his cheek. He do it. He can brace against this.
Jester giggles at him and turns to the small cluster of kobolds watching her in awe. “Little me’s! C’mere, c’mere!” She wiggles her fingers in the air - an action that has Caleb flinching even though it's not directed at him (yet, his mind helpfully supplies, and he shivers). The kobolds scuttle forward, looking curious but still hesitant. Jester repeats the action, wiggling her fingers rapidly through the air and pointing towards Caleb. Wiggling, pointing. The kobolds creep closer still. Caleb squeezes his eyes shut at the last second.
And promptly opens them again with a shriek he can't manage to stifle, as ten tiefling claws scribble over his exposed side.
Jester’s laugh completely blows her kobold cover. She turns back to the actual kobolds - who have leaped back, snickering, at this sudden noise - and gestures for them to join her. They jump forward and land right on Caleb, claws out and wiggling, mimicking Jester’s movements. Jester, still laughing, dives right back into tickling up and down Caleb's sides, around to his stomach, and up towards his ribs.
And Caleb cracks. Laughter bursts from his throat and he dissolves into cackles. “Jehehehehe-ster! Bitte, nohohoho, dohohohon’t!
Jester just giggles along. “But Cay-leb! This is so much fun!” Her claws never stop moving. And Caleb can’t stop laughing. He’s swinging side to side, desperately searching for purchase along the wall, reaching for the ground, anything to get away from all these claws.
No luck. The rope around his ankles keeps him firmly suspended, and as the dozens of claws from both kobold and tiefling scribble and wiggle and poke and prod over every inch of his body, all Caleb can successfully manage to do is laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And find himself hoping beyond hope that this will never end because it’s quite possibly the most fun he’s ever had.
A screech leaves his lips as he feels a sudden pinch to his hip - and he immediately takes that thought back as he looks over to see Beauregard grinning at him, hands poised over his hips. Nope, no, there's no way he’s making it out of this alive. He’s going to die. Of laughter or embarrassment, he's not yet sure. Possibly both.
Beau can’t hide a laugh at the look on Caleb’s face when he sees her. Then her hands are flying up and down his sides with terrifying monk speed, pinching and squeezing and seeking out every possible ticklish spot with horrifying Cobalt Soul precision. And Caleb’s vision goes white. His brain feels like fuzz and static. He’s gone, lost in a world of mirth, where there is nothing but laughter and ticklishness and more laughter. He gives up trying to bat Jester and the kobolds away and drops his arms down, covering his face.“Bitte, Jehahahahahester, bitte, plehehehehehahahahaha-ease!” He doesn't know whether he's begging her to stop or keep going.
Luckily for him, Jester does not take any time to find out. She, Beau, and the kobolds all lock onto the newly exposed spot at the same moment, and the next thing Caleb knows there are at least fifty fingers and claws in his armpits. His laughter, impossibly, kicks up another notch and his face feels like it’s going to crack in half from how wide he’s beaming. That's it, he is quite sure this is how he’s going to die.
But he can’t quite bring himself to wish it would end.
A few feet away, Fjord, Nott and Yasha have slowly lowered their weapons and are watching this show with puzzled looks. Caduceus lowers his staff, a smile on his face. “Well that's nice.” He beckons to the nearest kobold. “Hey. Do you have a bag? I can fill it with food if you do.” The kobold scuttles over, carrying a large sack, and the soft glow of Caduceus’ magic lights the interior of the chamber as he fills it with food. The kobold’s face shifts into a look of amazement as it reaches out, tasting a piece.
There’s a sudden screech - blending into the sound of Caleb’s own cackling laughter ringing in the chamber - as the kobold leader leaps forward, slapping the hand away. Caleb stops fully paying attention around then - as someone’s fingers find their way onto his neck and another set worms their way beneath his chin and he’s lost again to silly giggles - but he barely makes out a conversation happening between Fjord, Caduceus, Nott and the kobold leader. He thinks he catches the words ‘gator skins’ - but it’s hard to tell when his own skin is being merciless attacked with scratches, pokes and wiggling fingers and his brain is still laughter mush.
An eternity later (exactly thirty-eight seconds, Caleb’s mind fills in), a whistle cuts through the laughter. Fjord’s gruff voice follows. “Mighty Nein! C’mon, we’re done here. Let’s get moving.”
Jester slows her fingers to a crawl - but does not pull them away, which is almost worse - and turns to Fjord with a pout. “Aww, but Fj-ord! We're having so much fun! Aren’t we, Caleb? Aren’t we, little me’s?”
The kobolds don’t respond, just continue their wiggling and tickling over every inch of Caleb they can reach, chirping and grunting to each other. And Caleb, still lost in giggles, could never hope to respond himself.
He does, however, notice Beau pull her own hands away - thank the gods - and rest a hand on Jester’s shoulder. “C’mon, Jes. We can finish tickling Caleb senseless later. We don't need the rope, he's easy to catch.”
Jester heaves a sigh but pulls away. Beauregard reaches up with a shuriken and cuts the rope, leaving Caleb to drop to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He rolls onto his back, still laughing, as about half the kobolds run, cackling, back to the pack, carrying coin and other various supplies they’ve stolen from him. Several others remain, claws still wiggling against Caleb as he rolls side to side on the ground with his arms wrapped around his sides in an attempt to shield whatever he can manage.
Jester shoos them off. “That's enough, that’s enough! Go on, go, go.” The kobolds scatter away from the laughing wizard quickly, before turning to watch Jester almost reverently from a short distance away.
Caleb throws his arms over his beet-red face, gasping for air. Jester bends down over him, still wearing that ear-to-ear grin. “Caleb! You’re really, super ticklish!”
Caleb says nothing, still shaking with residual giggles. Jester giggles along and takes hold of his hands, pulling them away from his face. Caleb groans and turns his face away from her, attempting to hide it in the dirt floor. Jester just giggles again and dips forward to lay on top of him, giving him a one-sided hug and a gentle kiss on his cheek, which sends his face flushing red again.“Did you have fun? Because we sure did!”
Caleb rolls over to face away from her as soon as she sits back up. His giggles are trailing off but that pesky, wide grin stays persistently on his face. He takes a deep breath, catching his breath. “‘Fun’ would not be the word I’d choose, but…scheiße, Jester, you certainly have a talent for torture.”
There's a sudden skittering sound from across the room as a few of the kobolds that had been watching their large kobold goddess suddenly rush towards her and the exhausted wizard. Caleb flinches on instinct. But the claws aren't tickling anymore. They’re copying Jester's actions - resting their hands on his and leaning in to lick his face. It doesn’t tickle - but it’s so silly, and Caleb can’t help but laugh despite himself.
Jester squeals at this sight. “Aw-eeee! Look, they love you Caleb!”
Caleb bats the kobolds away. He still has not managed to stop smiling. “Ja. Maybe. Anyway, we need to get moving before they decide to - ah, eat me.”
“Aww, no, they won’t eat you, will you?” Jester is now cooing at the kobolds that are still trying to snuggle around Caleb. She turns back to Caleb, flashing him that bright, mischievous grin. “They were definitely probably going to do that before though. I definitely kept them from eating you.”
“I might have preferred that, actually,” Caleb mutters. He’s pushing himself up from the ground. Still attempting to cover that persistent leftover smile that dances underneath his beard, as he looks up to find Beauregard staring at him.
Beau gives him a smirk. “You made a great distraction.”
Caleb shoots her a glare - aware that it's dampened by his still-present smile - and opens his mouth to snark back. Before he can say a word Fjord steps forward, frowning. “Yes, a great distraction. Other than being loud enough to summon every other monster in the area. Let’s get moving before either they show up or these guys decide to eat us after all.”
Caduceus, who Caleb notices is already walking down the tunnel ahead, chimes in over his shoulder. “Nah, I don’t think they're going to eat us anymore. We made a deal.”
“Yup. Yeah. Yup. A deal, that we did.” Fjord is still eying the kobolds warily. “Anyway, let's go.”
Jester pushes herself up, away from Caleb, and turns towards Fjord - calling over her shoulder, “Nugget, come on!” Nugget bounds over, stopping on the way to give Caleb a slurp on the face. Caleb splutters on another laugh.
Beau helps Caleb the rest of the way up off the ground, giving him a smack on the back that sends him staggering to the side as he walks away. Caleb turns to give her a look of disbelief - but he’s still smiling, scheiße - and she just flashes him a grin. He settles for a shake of his head and turns away to catch up with the others.
Jester, it seems, is now eagerly interrogating the kobold leader about the worm and the army following it, while Fjord and Yasha wait next to her, looking impatient. Nott, off to the side, catches Caleb’s eye. She’s clearly biting back a smile and she gives him a look he can’t quite decipher. Caleb averts his gaze quickly and hurries to catch up with Caduceus.
Caduceus looks over as Caleb joins him in the tunnel ahead. He gives the wizard a warm smile. “Ah. Have fun? That looked nice.”
Caleb brushes himself off, carefully avoiding eye contact with the firbolg. “Ah, um…no…but I’m happy to have provided a distraction.”
Caduceus chuckles. He catches Caleb’s eye anyway as Caleb straightens up, and his smile grows even warmer. There’s a knowing glimmer in his eyes. “Alright then.”
Jester comes bounding up then, closely followed by Fjord, Nott, Yasha, and Beau. She rushes up to Caleb, all bright, toothy grin and fingers jabbing into his side, which has Caleb jerking away, yelping. Jester giggles. “This is so great, Caleb! We can have tickle fights now!” She flashes him another bright grin. Caleb just stares at her, fighting for his life to keep his face stoic.
Jester, undeterred, turns to Caduceus instead. “Right, Cad? We can have tickle fights!” She gives his side a quick jab and is rewarded by a flinch away and a soft chuckle. Jester looks absolutely delighted at this - and Caduceus looks pleasantly surprised himself as he gives her a soft grin.
Caleb steps a few feet away from this and watches the two of them for a moment, before giving a glance behind him at the rest of his friends. They’re looking right at him. Definitely talking about him. He looks away quickly, feeling his face heat up again.
There’s a sound next at his side, and Caleb turns to find Beauregard walking quietly next to him. She gives him a nod. Without returning it, without saying a word, he reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder. And with a quick snap of his fingers, poof - his vision drops into Frumpkin's.
Beau places her hand over his on her shoulder. It’s warm and gentle and affectionate in a way that Caleb is barely familiar with - and if his emotions weren't dulled by being inside his cat, he might be tempted to say something.
But he’s not there. He’s watching through Frumpkin’s eyes as the kobolds whisper amongst themselves and two start following after them. Soon enough he’ll have to say something to the others, let them know about this new development.
But walking there, hand on Beauregard’s shoulder, her hand firmly on top of his, vaguely aware that up ahead Jester and Caduceus are starting a tickle fight all of them are sure to be dragged into, Caleb can catch his breath, calm his mind, and be grateful that, in this moment, no words are needed.
#critical role#the mighty nein#critickle role#lee!Caleb#ler!Jester#ler!Beauregard#very very brief moment of lee!Caduceus#maybe I'll write a sequel with more of that#plus someone needs to pry Caleb's feelings around tickling out of him and it's probably going to be Cad#also I need to do something about Fjord because he turned out to be a bit of a dick in this#and that's a terrible choice on his part considering it's CANON that he's ticklish and that Jester knows this#caleb widogast#jester lavorre#beauregard lionett#caduceus clay#fjord stone#nott the brave#m9#critical role fic#critical role tickle fic#critical role tickling#tickling community#tickle community#tickle fic#sfw tickling community#critickle role fic#ticklish!caleb#critical role tickles#cr tickles#my fics
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fuck it. chapter 1 Take Me to Church sneak peak.
pov character: henry stein
cws: cult mentions, minor injury
Henry had been warned by quite a few studio residents before he entered the so-called 'Cult Territory' that he needed to avoid one very specific person. When he asked for a name, all he was told was "The Projectionist," and to "stay out of its light."
So, suffice it to say, when he saw a bright light illuminating the halls in front of him, and quickly approaching, he ran to hide. This, however, was proven to be the wrong choice. As the sound of his running had alerted the damn thing to his presence. An almost deafening screech rang through the halls, and the artist froze for a moment, finding the sound had a disorienting effect. Before he could keep running, he felt something coil around his wrist, pulling him back. As he nervously turned to face it, he quickly raised his free hand to shield his eyes.
"The... angel?"
But... the monster didn't do anything. All he noticed was the sound of gears clicking, before the creature spoke, in a startlingly familiar voice. "Huh... can't remember th' last time I found someone down 'ere. Did no one warn ya t' avoid 'is place, or are ya jus' the stubborn type?" That... that was Norman's voice. "What's th' matter? Cat got yer tongue?" The tone was almost teasing. He didn't respond. "Eh, guess it don't matter. Well, yer comin' wi' me. 'M sure ya got some use t' The Angel."
Clearly, it heard him, because it stopped to look over its shoulder. "You a'right?" Henry chuckled dryly. "I uh... I'm fine. You're just, um... cutting my hand a bit." The Projectionist quickly let go, carefully lifting his arm to check the damage. "Ah, sorry 'bout 'at. I always forget how sharp those things are. We'll get ya patched up at the base." It then grabbed his other wrist (this time with its actual hand) before continuing to walk. Henry took this chance to study the monster more. It's hands were pitch-black, like the rest of its body- aside from its head, the film, and what he assumed were a speaker and reel of film imbedded into its skin- its fingers were clawed, and it walked with its head leading somewhat. Which he found to be understandable, that thing had to be heavy, right? Speaking of its head, there were several wires that stemmed from the bottom of it, that all connected to various other parts of its body- mainly its upper back, but a few connected to its legs and arms as well.
It paused, tilting its head in what he assumed was curiosity. "Y' really had no clue what you were wanderin' inta, huh? Well, you'll meet 'er sooner or later." It turned to start walking, dragging the blond along by his wrist. Now that it wasn't practically blinding him, he was able to take note of a few features. It was tall, a little bit taller than he remembered Norman being, and it had a projector for a head... the Lost Ones really didn't get very creative with the name, clearly. And, he had found that what was coiled around his wrist was... film. Albeit, sharper than film normally is- in fact, he could see areas where it was starting to draw blood. The tugging from the strands of film as they walked stung like hell, and he tried his best to hide the pained hiss that escaped him.
It was a lot friendlier than the old animator had expected- from the way everyone talked about The Projectionist, he had pictured some sort of blood-thirsty killer, tearing people to shreds without a moments notice- so the fact that it not only didn't attack him, but was in fact intending to help with the injuries it had caused, was a pleasant surprise. Why was everyone so afraid of it?
"So, what brought ya down 'ere? It ain't often I find people 'round this floor... 'specially not people 'at look like you."
"Well, the short and simple answer is that I got a letter from an old friend." Henry tilted his head in confusion. "And... what do you mean 'people like me'?" There was a quiet rumble from the projector, which, based on the tone of its next statement, was probably the closest thing it had to a laugh. "Well, jus' look at yerself. You don' look nothin' like a searcher or Lost One, 'n ya sure as hell ain't a wolf or a Butcher Gang member!" It shrugged before continuing. "We don't get many people who don't fit one o' those groups."
"Well... what about you? You don't fit those groups either."
That quiet rumbling again.
"Yeah, I s'pose I don't. But I certainly don' stick out nearly as bad you do. Hell, you ain't even ink like th' rest o' us..." It trailed off for a moment "Yer human, ain't ya? Whoever 'at friend was 'at suggested y' head down 'ere must o' been a real piece o' work."
"Why's that?"
"Tell y' what?"
"It ain't safe down 'ere fer the rest o' us, let alone someone 'ats human. Yer jus' lucky I found ya before th' Prophet did." The artist paused. "The Prophet? Who's that?" This question seemed far more concerning to The Projectionist, as it stopped firmly in its tracks. "Did ya bother t' learn anythin' 'bout this place before y' got 'ere?" Henry could feel his face heat up from embarrassment. It definitely had a point there. "I- I tried to, but all anyone would tell me was to... uh..."
"To um.... avoid... you." He chuckled nervously, staring at the floor. Gears clicked for a moment before it responded. "Eh, fair 'nough. I guess I can be pretty scary t' outsiders." It shrugged, starting to walk again. "Th' ones y' really gotta worry 'bout round 'ere 's the Prophet 'n his so-called 'flock'." The artist wanted to ask more, but he had a feeling that the monster didn't want to discuss the Prophet any further.
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why ravage beat prowl in that waterlogged cat poll
(Note: I don’t think Ravage is much of a waterlogged cat, but I also don’t think that Prowl is one either.)
First of all, Ravage would scratch and hiss about a surprise hug because it’s made clear throughout all of IDW that beastformers who are not big and terrifying to average sized mechs have to put up with loads of unwanted touching just because they’re adorable and pet-sized, despite the fact that they deserve bodily autonomy just as much as everyone else does.
Prowl probably doesn’t have people always grabbing at him and trying to pet him and skritch his ears and calling him things like ‘poppet’.
But there is one very important very bad thing that happens to Ravage in the comics, aside from the general Shit Life Syndrome that most Cybertronians have.
SPOILERS FOR MTMTE ENDING under cut (and is anyone surprised that I’m the one answering this? Lord I hope not.)
(attn @pits-of-kaos = the post wasn’t rebloggable which I didn’t find out till I got done writing this and the damn poll was already over! but Ravi won without my propaganda!)
Ravage gets shoved into the proverbial refrigerator at the end of MTMTE and both the reasoning and execution (haha) of Ravage’s death are colossally dumb as well as unnecessary.
Ravage is Megatron’s only confidant and therefore arguably the most important person in Megatron’s world. The writers never say that Ravage and Megatron are amicae, but that’s almost the only possible explanation for the fact that Ravage can slap Megatron across the face with claws out, and Megatron will not only not kill Ravage, but will simply grab and hold the offending paw until the cat calms down.
(The other possible explanation is something that only Riptide ever notices in-universe, which is that if you are willing to ignore the fact that Ravage is cat-shaped, because Ravage passes the Harkness Test with flying colours, it’s possible to look back at the relationship history of the relationships between Megatron, Ravage and Soundwave throughout the war and conclude that they are or at least once were all in love with each other and doing whatever it is that married robots in IDW actually do, which canon never tells us.)
Riptide asks Ravage which one of the two Ravage would choose, and gets asked if he’s feeling suicidal, which isn’t an answer.
So here we are at the end of the MTMTE run.
Megatron has made a vow of pacifism (which is not even slightly sus despite the fact that he made it right after a psychic attack from a villain who activates your internal guilt to incapacitate you), and swore that he will never hurt another living thing. From then on, he only plays a support role in the Lost Light’s battles. He won’t even touch a gun.
One could argue that he isn’t fully sincere, because the next time he gets psychic-attacked he yeets Minimus across the room, but whatever.
Anyhow, Megatron and his friends have all been marooned on the Necroworld, and they’re waiting for the DJD to kill them. The DJD also have Deathsaurus’ Warworlders backing them up, because Tarn has decided that he’s going to run the Decepticons now and Dezza’s going to be his warleader. Or figurehead. It’s not clear which. In Japanese G1 Dezza was Meg’s successor as Emperor of Destruction, though.
And JRo et al have written themselves into a corner.
Megatron won’t fucking fight. I don’t think this should have been that big a problem. They had Ultra Magnus, Rodimus, Cyclonus, Tailgate who can throw shuttles at people, and Drift down there, to name just a few. That’s a lot of heavy hitters. But they’ve also been hinting for ages and ages that Megatron’s intradimensionally fucked up frame is hiding a portal through which he can manifest black holes or antimatter or whatever.
It’s not like antimatter is the only thing that can kill DJD members. They’re scary because they have no brakes on them and will do fucking anything to anyone, not because they’re invulnerable to things like bullets and swords and energy weapons.
Somehow, the writers have to get Megatron to fight, because Chekhov’s got a gun. So Ravage and Megatron have a fight about why Megatron won’t fight, and Ravage is ashamed of Megatron, and stalks off all by catself into trouble, because that was a sensible thing for the most pragmatic person aboard the LL to do, wasn’t it?
Tarn, of course, finds Ravage.
There’s a single joint in Ravage’s midsection that joins Ravage’s front/top half to Ravage’s back/bottom half, and literally nobody this cat has ever fought before has noticed this massive vulnerability.
Tarn does, though, and he rips Ravage in half.
(Seriously, it’s ONE joint. The MMC third-party IDW Ravage figure even duplicated it so that you can split Ravage in half for Tarn to hold, except that they’re not stupid, and you can snap your figure back together and Ravage is good as new.)
Megatron sees Ravage in pieces and in pain, and this motivates Megatron to break his vow, and go out and obliterate Tarn and the rest of the DJD with his fancy antimatter trick, and steal a Decepticon symbol and put it on his chest.
Despite being Ratchet, Ratchet can’t manage to successfully reattach the back half of a cat to the front half of a cat, even though Transformers are not supposed to be irretrievably dead unless the T-cog, brain module and spark have all been destroyed, and while the T-cog could have been in the joint, Ravage is still talking, and therefore presumably has both brain and spark.
As a result of this, Megatron returns just in time for Ravage to paw the Decepticon symbol, murmur something very ambiguous about not changing back (from Con to Bot? from Bot to Con? who the fuck knows) and literally die in Megatron’s arms.
Cut to across the galaxy at Sanctuary Station. Soundwave falls to his knees clutching at his chest. (This is something that only happens to TFs if their spark-twin sibling or their spark-bound conjunx dies, but Soundwave being a telepath is the generally preferred unnecessary explanation.)
This is classic stuffed-in-a-fridge bullshit. There was no reason for Ravage to die. Megatron could have taken a vow of pacifism later, or not at all. Ravage could have been repaired. Ratchet’s clinic was in Rodion when both Drift and Ravage were street people there, so there’s no bloody reason he shouldn’t know how Ravage is wired. The writers kill Ravage in order to give Megatron even more manpain, as if he didn’t have enough already, and probably also because they want to Strongly Imply CosWave (eurgh).
#RAVAGE WAS FRIDGED#(also I have become REALLY good at not using pronouns when I have to talk about Ravage in canon)#(the Ravage who lives in my head is a femme)#all this and I still get antis for shipping these people
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My Friend's Cat
My friend Barney got sent to prison for an uncertain amount of time. He called me several times after his initial arrest and I felt horrible for him. I believed he was innocent, but regardless, he was still my friend. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help him.
He said, "will you please go and get my cat and look out for her for a little while, until I can find another home for her". Of course I said I would.
I arrived to pick up said cat, and took her home in a carrier. It is weird how memories like this stick but are also fuzzy. I do not exactly recall picking up the cat, but I recall the cat's arrival to my house. Oh what a day and night that was. The fuzzy parts I suppose are the calm, boring parts, for which I have no real reason to store them. Fear, terror, and pain are things that will stick. It is unfortunate but I understand.
Once the cat was released from the cage, she seemed feral. She immediately attacked me, in a hissing, fur flying rage! I couldn't believe it, I had never had a problem with a cat or any animal before. I grabbed her as she flung her claws at me and I closed her into the bathroom. I sat down on the sofa trying to plot my next move and assessing the damage I had sustained in the bite and claw marks all over me.
This is not what I signed up for! What the literal fuck? No good deed shall go unpunished, I had heard sometime ago. Here was one for the books.
I look toward the bathroom door and I see this crazed cat from Hell squeezing itself flat under the door! My stomach sank as it sprinted toward me and leaped toward my face. I had a blanket beside me and I threw it over my head. The cat hissed, clawed growled and made all of the screeches one might hear in a full out cat fight, only this was one cat making all of the noises. Only the blanket got damaged this time.
I slowly lowered the blanket thinking, 'What the Hell is going on?' As I peered over the blanket, I saw this thing pacing back and forth and sizing me up like a boxer in a ring.
Side note: My ex was there at the time, he never got one scratch. She was after me alone.
The cat again sprinted towards me suddenly and attacked the blanket I had over my face. Again she paced back and forth looking at me. This was an absolute waking nightmare from a stupid house cat! What had my life become?
Eventually after a few more attacks and me living in fear of this thing, my ex got the cat and put her back in the carrier; upon my insistence. I told my friend at his next call I was sorry but the cat had to go.
Barney said, "Yeah, I probably should have warned you she doesn't like women very much".
"Oh, really? Yeah that would have been helpful information now that I have been ripped to shreds".
He had a family member come and get her from me and that was that. Thank God I never saw that cat again. I am still more of a dog person.
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Fix You (1)
hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader
Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff
Word Count: 3,660
Rating: M
Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm
Notes: This is for the March project for @thebtswritersclub. The prompt word was ‘adventure’ and I mean, what’s more of an adventure than adopting a pet? Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae, @hoebii and @aroseforyoongi for editing various parts of this for me.
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“That cat got into Rick’s chickens again. Killed a couple chicks. He said he’s going to kill it if he sees it on his property.”
Your dad had said it nonchalantly, barely glancing over his newspaper. Without a second thought, you were out the door. There was no way to be sure, not really, but the sinking feeling in your stomach made you run a little faster down your parents’ driveway.
You could have sworn you saw that cat slinking under Rick’s fence on your walk earlier.
Rick’s property neighbored that of your parents, but you wouldn’t necessarily consider him their neighbor. If you stood on their front porch, you could just barely make out Rick’s house through the stand of trees that served as the property line. Your parents had chosen to let their piece of the world be natural, carving out just enough space for a house and a decent sized yard all those years ago. It had made for some great childhood adventures in the woods: pretending fairies were real, living out your childhood fantasies of being some sort of wizard, making friends with the trees--normal kid stuff.
Rick, on the other hand, had turned his land into farmland, even though he neither farmed nor cared for the land. The vast rolling fields of Rick’s “farm” were mostly bare. He had a pond in one corner on the other side of the property, and he had a small cabin for hunting when game season started. Mostly, though, Rick raised chickens. Annoying things, the chickens were, not unlike Rick himself. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the hens’ incessant clucking from your parents’ house, and the roosters never seemed to shut up.
When you moved to the city to attend college, you were elated to get away from the chickens.
According to your dad, the cat had showed up in the woods a few weeks ago, and it had made an enemy out of Rick almost immediately. The poor thing was skinny--too skinny, like it had been living on the streets for a while--and though its dark fur was ruddy and matted, you could tell it would be a beautiful onyx if taken care of.
As you got closer to Rick’s farm, you heard barking and a sharp yowl, and you hurried in the direction of the sounds, afraid of what you’d find. Rounding the corner of the chicken coop, you gasped in horror.
Rick stood with his back to you, shotgun in his hands. His dog, an old bird hound with caramel spotted fur, had the cat clutched in his mouth, the dog’s teeth sunk directly into the cat’s shoulder. The cat, to its credit, had puffed itself up greatly, its tail nearly double its normal size. It was growling and hissing, and, despite the pain it was almost certainly in, was swiping at the dog with its front claws.
“Call your dog off, Rick.” Your voice was steadier than you thought it would be. You were out of breath from the run over there, and being anywhere near Rick with a gun and his snarling dog made you a little uneasy.
“Fuck off.” The man barely turned his head to you. “Damn cat’s been a pain in my ass since someone dumped it here. It killed four of my chicks.”
“Look at it. Of course it’s going after your chickens. You don’t keep them in their coop. It’s starving.”
“Damn thing should stay at your soft-ass parents’ house if it wants handouts.” Rick cocked his gun, pointing it at the cat. The cat’s copper eyes flashed to Rick at the sound. It looked terrified.
The fact that it knew what a gun was and knew to be afraid of it broke your heart a little bit.
“Call off the dog,” you said again, taking a step toward him, hands splayed out in front of you placatingly. “Calm down. I’ll get the cat out of your hair, and you won’t have to worry about it again.”
“Ain’t going to replace my chickens.” Rick’s voice was gruff, but he lowered the gun.
“I’ll pay for your chickens. Just call off your dog.”
He stared at the cat, the gun clutched in his hands but no longer pointing it at anything. For a second, you thought he was going to sicc the dog on the poor thing just to spite you and make a point. You had a feeling he was the type of person to do that. But after a tense stare down, he whistled through his teeth.
“Drop it,” he commanded the dog. The dog looked to its owner, and he repeated the command. It took a second, but the dog released its bite, and the cat slumped to the ground. Rick regarded the cat with a sneer before turning to you. “Take care of that thing. If I see it on my property one more time, it won’t be so lucky.”
You nodded tensely, and he whistled again. The dog trotted over to Rick’s side and the two walked off. You stared after him for a moment. A pained yowl drew your attention back to the cat.
The cat looked angry, and you didn’t blame it. Its tail was still puffed up, and you could tell that if it hadn’t just been attacked by a dog, its hackles would be straight up. Its copper eyes glared at you, its ears flat against its head. You approached cautiously, and it growled deeply in its throat.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, crouching down to make yourself less threatening. “I’m going to get you help. Is that okay?”
The cat hissed at you and attempted to back away. It made two limping steps before collapsing into the mud around the coop.
“That’s alright. It’s okay.” You sighed, unsure of your next steps. You didn’t want to traumatize the cat by coming any closer, and you really didn’t want to risk injuring it further by picking it up and having it fight you.
You looked at the cat, blinking slowly when you accidentally made eye contact with it. You had read somewhere that blinking was a way to show a cat that you weren’t a threat, and though you felt kind of silly, at this point, you were willing to try anything.
“What am I going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned, sitting down in the mud. The cat looked at you curiously, as if asking what the fuck you were doing. “I don’t want Rick to hurt you,” you confessed. “I’d like to take you somewhere safe.”
Truthfully, that was part of the reason why you were even visiting your parents. Your mom had told you about the cat, and how it didn’t seem to be wearing any collar, and while you were visiting them you wanted to try to trap it, either to bring it to live with you, or to take it to a nice shelter where it could get a good meal and hopefully find a nice family.
“Can I take you to the vet, at least?” You really were desperate, talking to the cat as if it understood what you were saying. The cat, to its credit, looked at you, copper eyes staring into your face before it blinked, just once, slowly and deliberately.
When you reached out to it, it didn’t growl.
You stood and approached the cat, doing your best not to make any sudden moves. You scooped it up gently, careful not to jostle his left shoulder too much, and cradled it close to your chest.
The walk back to your parents’ house was slow, but the trip to the vet was even slower.
It was a weekend, so the vet in your parents’ sleepy little suburb was closed. You had no choice but to pack your bags back up and make the trek home to the city to take the cat to the 24/7 emergency veterinary hospital.
You tapped your hand on the steering wheel. Traffic wasn’t usually this terrible on a weekend, but there was some sort of sporting event happening, so of course, all the roads into the city were clogged.
Stopped at a red light, you spared a glance toward your passenger seat. The cat laid on his side--it was a him, your mother had confirmed--his breathing labored. You could tell he was still on edge. His tail was still puffed up like a cat-of-nine-tails, and he kept eyeing you warily. But he had let you wrap him in a blanket and carry him to your car, and he had stayed on the seat, almost like he knew it was the safest place for him.
“Almost there, kitty,” you mumbled, changing lanes, finally free of the congestion. “Hang on just a little longer.”
Thankfully, the vet wasn’t busy, and you were able to get in with the assistant almost right away. You explained everything that had happened to her as she examined the cat, tutting slightly as she checked his shoulder.
“There are some punctures, but nothing that’s too worrying. I can bandage it and give you some antibiotics.” The assistant pulled her hand back as the cat swatted at her for touching his shoulder a little too forcefully. “Do you know if he has an owner? It would be helpful to know his shot records.”
You shook your head. “He just showed up in the woods one day.”
“We’ll get him a full round of vaccines, then, too.” Copper eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw a look of concern cross them. But then he blinked, and it was gone.
The vet ordered an MRI, and thankfully, because it was a large veterinary hospital connected with the local university, they were able to do it the same day. So you ended up staying at the vet for two hours as they anesthetized the cat and did the scan. While the cat was waking up, the vet called you into the exam room.
“We checked for a microchip, and there was none,” the vet--Dr. Jung--informed you, his brow furrowed. “Based on the cat’s malnutrition and the condition of the coat, it’s likely he was a stray for at least a few months.” You nodded. The poor cat. “We should have the MRI results soon. I’ll give you a call in a few hours once I get a chance to read them. Normally, since he’s a stray, we would contact our foster network to see if anyone would be able to take him in. But since you brought him in-”
“I’ll keep him,” you said quickly. You were planning on it anyway. Just because he was hurt didn’t mean you were willing to give him up.
“Good.” Dr. Jung smiled at you. “My assistant is wrapping his shoulder now, and we’d like to just monitor him for a few more minutes to make sure he’s coming out of the anesthesia well, but you should be clear to take him home after that.” He placed a box on the table between you. “This is Clavamox. One millilitre twice a day for seven days. I don’t think he’ll develop an infection, but since he was so dirty, I think it’s probably better to be safe.” You nodded and pocketed the box. ���We also gave him a rabies shot while he was here. It’s standard because he was bitten. If you notice any symptoms, please call us immediately. Once he’s feeling better, we can get him the rest of the vaccines he needs.”
You nodded. This was a lot all at once. And you didn’t even know what you wanted to call the cat yet.
Dr. Jung seemed to be able to tell you were feeling overwhelmed, because he offered you a comforting smile and patted your shoulder. “I’m going to go check on him. You can come if you want.”
As soon as you entered the room, groggy copper eyes were on you. The poor thing looked stoned out of his mind, but there was recognition there, and that gave you some comfort. At least he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped his shoulder, so he had a bandage from his upper left front leg wrapped all the way around his chest and up around his shoulders.
“What are we going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned softly, reaching out and gently placing your hand on his head.
After checking the cat’s vitals one last time, Dr. Jung let you leave.
He was limp in your arms as you carried him into your apartment, still a little drugged up from the anesthesia. The whole way back to your apartment, he had sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window like a drunk, moody college student.
“It’s up to you if you want to stay, kitty,” you told him, gently laying him down on your couch as soon as you kicked your shoes off. Of course you wanted to keep him. You had grown attached to him in the few hours you had been with him. But if he was miserable, you were willing to help him find somewhere that was more suited for his needs.
He tried to stand, succeeding only long enough to give a dramatic wobble before collapsing back into the overstuffed cushion. While he was completely recovered from the anesthesia, Dr. Jung had warned you that the cat might be feeling the side effects for a day or so. You reached out to pet him, but his copper eyes slanted into a glare, and you pulled back.
Assuming the cat was hungry, you left him alone and headed into the kitchen. You had some chicken in the fridge, and you thought maybe he would enjoy some fresh meat he didn’t have to steal. You weren’t sure when his last real meal was, so you wanted to go easy on his digestive system until you knew he was feeling better. You’d have to stop and get cat food at some point, but for now, chicken would do.
You did your best to trim off all the fat from the chicken breast. You knew he wouldn’t mind eating it--cats ate weirder things from fresh kills, after all--but you figured with how thin he was, lean meat would probably be better. Carefully, you cut it up into small, easy-to-chew chunks and put some on a plate, wrapping the rest and putting it into the fridge for later. You used a dropper to evenly spread the required dose of the antibiotics onto the chicken in hopes that it would make it easier to give him the medicine.
Returning to the living room, you noticed that the cat hadn’t moved aside from doing his best to curl up as small as possible in the corner of the couch. You tried not to make eye contact with him as you pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it on the cushions. You weren’t particularly keen on having raw chicken all over your furniture, but you sat the plate on the blanket anyway. There was no way you trusted the cat to be able to jump down off your couch at this point.
“Here’s some chicken, kitty.” You gestured toward the plate, and he eyed it warily, unmoving. You supposed he would feel more comfortable eating if you weren’t in the room. “Don’t leave it too long--it’ll go bad. I have to go do some work. I’ll be in my office if you need me. It’s just down the hall.” As you stood up, you paused. You were talking to a cat. You were talking to a cat as if it could understand exactly what you were saying.
Maybe your parents were right. Maybe you had been living alone for too long.
Your mother had suggested you get a hybrid when you first moved to the city--a nice, loyal, protective one, like a German shepherd hybrid or a golden retriever--but you had never gone further than passively looking.
You were happy for the hybrids. A majority of them were still owned, but they could move about their lives freely and without question. It was illegal to treat them as servants, and all ownership had to be consensual, though you weren’t sure how well those rules were enforced. You didn’t really understand how someone could just own a hybrid--they were people, after all, even if their DNA was a little altered. It was weird to you, owning another sentient being like that.
Their lives were certainly much better than they had been. Some hybrids were naturally occurring, but others--a majority of them--had been created by rich and powerful individuals and the government in secret during some shady human experiments in the early 20th century. And, of course, because they were experiments, it created a whole host of problems regarding rights and discrimination.
But despite all the improvements, there was still a long way to go. There was nothing wrong with owning a hybrid if it was consensual, but that didn’t mean you were necessarily comfortable with it.
After a few hours of sitting at your desk working on your most recent graphic design project for work, you turned away and stretched. If you had to stare at the color chartreuse for ten more minutes, you thought you would go blind. It was time to check on the cat anyway, and you wanted to make sure you threw away any chicken that was left on the plate you had given him so he wouldn’t get sick.
When you entered the living room, you were immediately confused. The cat was gone, but so was your blanket. The plate was still on the couch, almost exactly where you left it, but it was entirely empty. Wonderful. You had taken in some sort of Houdini cat.
You grabbed the plate and put it in the sink, trying to look for your blanket as you went. You found it when you returned to the living room, the corner sticking out from under your TV stand. There was just enough space between the bottom shelf and the floor for the cat to fit under, and apparently he had taken the blanket with him. You couldn’t really blame him--it was April, and it was late evening, and your floors were still a little chilly.
“Hey kitty?” you called, bending down to see if you could see him under the shelf. You had thought about it while working, and at this point, you were just going to lean into the whole ‘talking to the cat like he’s a person’ thing. “It’s starting to get late. I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” You could just barely see his copper eyes hidden all the way under the TV stand. His pupils were blown wide to capture all the ambient light they could. “You can explore or whatever you’re comfortable with tonight, but please don’t ruin my stuff. Please be a good kitty.”
He blinked once and continued to stare blankly at you.
“Okay, well… if I don’t see you, goodnight.”
You stood and headed off to your bathroom to start your nightly routine. It only took you about a half an hour, but you were soon laying down in bed with your book. You had started it a few days ago, but you were hooked, and you were already almost done with it. The author had managed to somehow insert a space alien robot into today’s modern digital age, and you found it fascinating. You would never look at social media and influencers the same way after reading this book.
It was cozy in your room with the little bedside lamp on, snuggled up in your blankets. Your bed was soft--it was one of those that you could change it using a remote to fit your mood and preference, but you almost always preferred it soft--and you had plenty of blankets and pillows to make it comfortable.
You only had a few pages left when you noticed it, the shadow lingering in the hallway, slowly getting closer to your open bedroom door. It started out against the wall across the hall. When you next looked up after glancing down to your book, the shadow had moved to your doorway. He even had turned his head away like he was pretending it was a coincidence that he had ended up in your room.
He was walking with a slight limp, which was unsurprising given the bandage and the fact that he was attacked not even 12 hours before. He was much more lucid than he was when you first brought him home, though you could tell he was still a little groggy. You didn’t say anything to him--you figured if you did, he would bolt, so you let him do what he wanted.
After a few minutes--maybe 15 or 20--you closed your book quietly, careful not to startle the cat. You glanced at the doorway and didn’t see him, so you put your book on your nightstand and turned off the light. It took you a second, but you snuggled down into the blankets, pulling them tightly around you. You were just about to drift off when you felt it.
Something landed gently on your bed by your feet. It paused for a moment before slowly making its way up the bed to your head, its gait uneven. When it got to the other pillow, it laid down. You risked opening an eye then, and were met with copper eyes staring back at you.
He watched you warily, as if waiting for you to yell or kick him off the bed. When you didn’t, his eyes narrowed, and he slowly allowed himself to lay down, his head on his paws, curled up as best as he could be.
You fell asleep to the sound of him snoring lightly.
As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!
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#yoongi x reader#min yoongi#min yoongi x reader#hybrid yoongi#hybrid yoongi x reader#bts hybrid au#hybrid au#thebtswritersclub#yoongi hybrid au#hybrid bts#hybridyoongi#yoongi hybrid#yoongihybrid#yoongi angst#bts angst#min yoongi angst
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I come bringing ideas and headcanons.
OK, so we all already know what The Three oldest archons abilities. So I’ve come up with my own ideas we could use for the younger archons! (And yes I’m grouping Ei, Venti and Zhongli as the older siblings since Ei Is 1000 years old Venti is 2,500 and Zhongli is 5,000-6,000 and the other archons are still in the hundreds I think)
Again these aren’t canon just stuff you can use for future Requests for Twisted wonderland x Teyvat God! Reader
For Dendro archon!Reader
Definitely a Bow User. And Is a Healer. But the their Ult can cause damage
I have a theory That during the Archon War The dendro Archin created the Regisvines to fight for them, and only two were left. I also Headcanon The dendro archon can bring plants to life and overwrite what each plant can do. (Maybe even bring mushrooms to life 👀).
Maybe They can create a giant plant from the ground that spreads Healing energies and since this is a god where talking about can Cure Curses (Ahem Vils Curses Ahem) and major Diseases and what not.
For Their Ult maybe a giant plant monster (kinda like how Gouba and Oz exists ) that will attack for them (could make for fun combos with different elements like if the dendro archon was wet Hydro Plant monster)
For Hydro archon!reader
Polearm or sword (theirs way too many Hydro Catalyst) Healer and Dps, Why? Cause I say so.
You’ve mentioned how Hydro archon summons a giant wave? I’ll do you one better and their E skill summons a giant sea creature of your choosing to soak the fighters (A cool visual is their polearm turning into a big dream catcher then going swoosh and Baam Maybe like A giant Water Koi fish finna drown your ass *ahem ace ahem*)
Now mihoyo likes to reference Their character form honkai impact into genshin impact (and since they took a characters look from Honkai and another characters abilities with the whole Dual ego thing for Raiden shogun and Ei) I’m gonna base this Ultimate Skill From a character from Honkai (for research search up Herrsercher of Sentience)
Since the Hydro archons whole thing is about Justice. Now here me out here. WATER WHIP. Just a giant whip of water that can go on for miles (maybe it’s salty maybe it’s like fresh water depends on our readers mood lolol). Like, It’s whip of water strong enough to cut diamond or whatever it would be very cool (Kalim would wanna see if he could do something like that with his UM Que jamil trying to stop him)
Maybe their hair turns into water too.
Pyro archon! Reader
Claymore. A Big strong war god needs a big strong weapon. Dps and Defense.
Now It’s not just one claymore, It’s DUAL-CLAYMORE, why? Cause it’s a war god that’s why!
I like to think the shield is like Xinyans and XiangLings combined and it’s constantly sending off tiny Fire Discs. Or just symbols shooting fire like what the Pyro Abyss mages can do
For Ultimate I like to think it’s like Childes Daggers but Bigger and on fire just a huge sword made of fire.
The pyro archon doesn’t think just BURNS. and STABE
Cryo archon! Reader
I can’t really come up with much for Cryo archon. But maybe a Catalyst that can summon a giant blizzard that drops down giant ice swords (kinda like Ganyus)
Definitely a sub DPS.
Maybe a healer too since The Tsaritsa is The archon of love?
What do you think about these abilities? Since you mentioned that the students and staff would assume their just strong mages I tried to be very creative with these abilities.
Also how I think the lore could go is maybe somewhere after leonas overblot and before azuls, Crowly has found a way to send Yuu home reluctantly. Yuu, grim and the aduece duo, and maybe some of heartslaybul or savana claw whoever you want come with them to the office to send them home. But Yuu is contemplating whether or not they WANT to go home now. But something goes wrong, maybe grim messes up the spell for the portal to work becuase (although he doesn’t want to admit it ) doesn’t want Yuu leaving, and their greeted with a surprise guest. Now this gives Yuu time to decide if they genuinely wanna go home and when teh archon finally has the materials they need to create a portal Yuu will tell them to leave the portal open (maybe put it into a tiny pocket mirror like the how we have the teapot) because they wanna stay for a little while or just until grim graduates (Que a happy fire cat ) and the archon whose grown attached to some people here was like ok “let our friends visit whenever they want, only if their headmaster allows it”
Now onto the headcanons
Anemo Archon! Reader and Mondstadt! Yuu
Everyone expected a lot of things not a person with Green eyes and (H/C) hair with green highlights. And an odd thing about them was the glowing stone on their person, Yuu didn’t have that?
Everyone’s freaking out because they’ve accidentaly taken another person from Yuus world.
And since Venti Is a well known famous bard In teyvat let’s say or Dear (y/N) is also a known bard and is not at all freaking out about what’s going on in fact let’s say our dear reader recognizes Yuu! And so now (Y/N) is now a new student (and a new headache for Crowley) in the ramshackle dorm! Yup! Just an ordinary human bard, Ehe~.
I’ll leave the rest of this up to you, Where Yuu has to explain what the world of teyvat is like (and why Yuu doesn’t have a phone (and a vision) because Twisted wonderland is far more advance in Technology and teyvat has JUST invented the Camera)
Also I head canon that people with Visions can summon their weapons and object with their visions, ok? Ok. To make things make more sense when reader pulls out a lyre from floating glitter.
Geo archon!reader and Liyue! Yuu
Same things happend here, but hey! We’ve summoned a Funeral Consultant! A very (ahemATTRACTIVEahem) Wise funeral consultant at best!
Our dear Friend (y/n) is very calm about the situation as well. After all everyone and liyue knows their god was killed and The Adepti are watching over them
So Our dear reader is seeing this as a free vacation 😊
Electro Archon!Reader and Inazuma!yuu
Since the god of Inazuma isn’t “Dead” or hasn’t left and the people know what their beloved archon looks like, Yuu will definitely Be Freaking the fuck out
“YOU DIDNT BRING ME HOME YOU JUST SUMMONED MY PEOPLES FUCKING GOD OH SHIT”
insert the meme of the womens face that gets zoomed in on the second panel “the. WHAT.” 😃
And y’know how Eis “Hello” voice line where she makes the traveler her guard she says the same thing to Yuu except “I recognize you are one of my people as your archon I shall be your guard and keep you safe from any danger in this Foreign world” and let’s say The puppet will not be used and Reader will be in control becuase they don’t have to worry about erosion right now so the puppet will be resting while (Y/N) is in control protecting their Precious Inazuma citizen is ok.
Well until They can get the materials they need to open a portal. I’ll let you figure out the rest, but congrats ramshackle you now have a god in your abode 😃✨
-Plot Anon 💗
PLOT ANON-SAMAAAAAAAAAA ILY!!!!!!!!! Thank you for your hard work sob
Anyways, for skills of the archons-
Dendro Archon
I think they'd use a sword or a catalyst tbh, if the skills you listed, it makes a little more sense to have them be more of a catalyst
For their elemental skill, I think they'd summon/throw something similar to Klee's and Aloy's elemental skill except they heal if someone in your party is nearby, their healing could scale by their EM or ER.
For their burst, I like your head canon for the Dendro Archon, so I might go off from that and your idea for their burst, just more tweaking. The dendro archon would be able to summon a large plant that heals AND deals Dendro damage by sapping mobs hp. The amount of life sapping it does and the healing would scale off their original HP (artifacts that give hp won't be of use)
Hydro Archon
I agree with hydro polearm or sword. Too many catalysts
Mmm... To be honest, I think you should have the burst be her skill... The whip idea is intriguing, but I think it would work more for a skill which can allow them to use it several times before waiting for the CD to go down. I think the whip skill would work better with Crit as well.
AND AS FOR THE MENTIONS OF WAVE AND A SEA CREATURE, I'LL DO YOU ONE BETTER BUT FOR THEIR BURST!!!! They summon a large tsunami which takes form of a monster/animal and lunges at the mobs (similar to Zhongli tossing down a dumbbell), however the amount of damage the burst can do is depending on if they are afflicted by the wet status the mobs are afflicted by. If already afflicted with hydro, the mobs would receive double damage while those with other elements afflicted on them would receive the element combination DMG and normal DMG while those that aren't affected by an element, they would receive normal damage. The amount of damage the burst does is scaled by EM.
Pyro Archon
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA CLAYMORE
Hmmm.... I think the skill would be they set an AoE with magma, mobs will receive damage from it and will continue to receive damage if they stay on it, but those who are in party, they will receive an ATK boost that scales from HP.
For the burst, I think I'll use a character from Honkai Impact with their special move which is Murata Himeko in Vermilion Knight: Eclipse battlesuit. Pyro Archon uses their claymore and another claymore but made of pyro and is far more larger and their cut scene has the Archon raise the pyro claymore above their head and slam it down to send pyro erupting from the ground (similar to the pyro axe wielding hilichurls)
Cryo Archon
I agree with catalyst
Mmmmmm.... I'd say her skill would beeeeee... Trapping several mobs or so in ice. They can either do 2-4 ice traps depending if you got their c1. (The ice traps are similar to Mirror Maidens traps BTW but it deals or affects the mobs with cryo)
For burst, I like the idea of summoning a blizzard/swords, but it's similar to Ganyu's. SO I'LL DO YOU ONE BETTER!!!! Cryo Archon will summon a blizzard which freezes mobs without having to use hydro, the freeze status lasts for a total of 15 seconds or higher if you got their c3
Hmmm... I like the idea, but imma tweak it a bit. The archon was in fact summoned through that portal because Grim decided to mess it up just for Yuu to stay a little longer, and so the Archon now resides in Twisted Wonderland as well in order to aide them until they can return back to their world. That way it makes more sense and makes it more fun.
Anemo archon
Yuu would be a bit jealous about them because they got a vision.
Crowley needs to hide his money
Sam has been strictly told to not give them wine that Sam stores in his shop...
Vargus is conflicted about them because they legit float without magic
Trein recurved a major headache
Divus is praying to whatever god existing to take them back
Ehe
EHE TE NANDAYO!?
Geo Archon
Yuu feels awkward meeting the consultant of the funeral parlor having to meet the Director...
Crowley is praying for dear god for them to go away.
"STOP TAKING MY MONEY YOU GORGEOUS FIEND" - Crowley
Train + Crewel + You = Besties
Sam was literally threatened to not joke around with you with business.
You legit did not fuck around with people when in contracts.
"Osmanthus wi-"
"SHUT THE HELL UP" - everyone
Electro Archon
Yuu is literally terrified in "your" presence.
Shogun malfunctioned due to being in an entirely new world so you had to disable Shogun's rules and create new ones regarding this world.
Yuu is still unaware of Shogun being a puppet
Crowley is no longer safe.
The staff (specifically Crewel) is supporting Shogun/You to beat Crowley's ass into shape.
Only the Diasomnia dorm knows your predicament with you and your puppet(s).
You are the definition of Queen/King/Royalty of the school. If you search up NRC, your picture literally plastered on it as the definition.
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This Side of Normal Ch. 10
AO3
Prev
Marinette glances around the silent table, willing Jason to say something. Or do something. Or even Dick. She needed one of them to start a conversation, because Adrien hated awkward silences. And if this silence went on much longer, he was definitely going to say something and then she would regret it. Horribly.
“These rolls are purr-fect.” Adrien says, out of nowhere. Marinette lets out a groan, of course he’d skip straight ahead to the cat puns. Of course that’s where his freaking mind was tonight.
“Aren’t they? I’d say Alfred’s cooking is pretty claw-some, myself.” Dick speaks up, grinning at Adrien. Marinette looks at him, wide eyed.
“That’s it. I’ll find a new trapeze partner and a new best friend. Both of you are out of my life.” She deadpans, ignoring Adrien’s offended gasp.
“But Bugaboo, who else would give you a hand with your crazy schemes?” Adrien asks, and Marinette turns to him, narrowing her eyes.
“I swear to god if you take your arm off right now you will never find it again.” She threatens, pointing her fork at him from across the table.
“But Mari, that joke needs the arm. It doesn’t work without it.” He pouts, she rolls her eyes and turns to Damian.
“I apologize for him. He thinks he’s funny.” She says, turning her glance back at Adrien. “He’s wrong.”
“Tt. I’m unbothered by his sense of humor. I have lived with Grayson for eight years. His humor is nothing compared to those horrors.” Damian quips, and Marinette swears his lips almost quirk into a smile. She snorts.
“Guess I made the right choice in throwing Dick to the curb, huh?” She teases, ignoring Dick’s gasp and Adrien’s reassurance to the man. Honestly, who was the adult here?
“It was for the best, Dupain-Cheng.” Damian says and Marinette winces slightly. The only person who called her by her last name (in regular conversation, anyway) was Chloe. And while the girl had long since given up full on bullying her, she still wasn’t Marinette’s best friend in the world.
“You can call me Marinette, my last name is kind of a mouthful.” She says, trying to be nonchalant about it. She’d heard him refer to everyone else as their last name the entire evening. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but him calling her Dupain-Cheng was going to make her uncomfortable in the long run.
“Very well.” He says, and though he doesn’t say her name, she still counts it as a win. A throat clearing catches her attention and she glances at Jason who was glaring at Damian.
“What’s up, Jay?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“Nothing Pixie Pop. Just thinking about the time you kicked the ass of that would be mugger.” He says, and Marinette frowns. Mugger? “You know, the one that was obsessed with you?” He clarifies, and she understands. Copycat had been reakumatized during Jason’s stay in Paris. And he had wanted nothing more than a date with Ladybug. Though, she couldn’t understand why he was bringing it up now.
“I am so lost.” She admits, shaking her head at her pseudo-brother. He grins.
“That’s fine, just sharing that you can kick ass with the table. In case someone wants to try something.” He says pointedly. Oh. He definitely caught the heart eyes she sent Damian back in the gym. Can he blame her, though? Her weakness was green eyes. And Damian’s were the greenest.
“I did walk in on you hogtied, Todd. I assumed she was a reputable fighter after that.” Damian says, and Marinette blushes furiously.
“I’m sorry, what happened?” Mr. Wayne asks, his vapid (and fake) smile replaced with a faux look of bewilderment. She briefly wondered if it was exhausting, putting on a constant act, until she remembered how tired she was throughout collège, before she started lycée and decided she didn’t really care. Yeah, acting constantly was tiring. But why did he do it? Jason nudges her lightly and she blinks, focusing back on the conversation.
“Oh, Jason and I sparred. He apparently had forgotten that I use my surroundings to my advantage and that Adrien is always on my side.” She explains, shooting Jason a smug smile. Jason huffs.
“Not always.” He says, and Marinette raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms and giving him a challenging look.
“Oh really? Name one time that Adrien took your side instead of mine.” She challenges. She grins as Jason starts to think, obviously wracking his brain.
“Earlier today!” Adrien pipes up, and she immediately turns to him, glaring.
“What?” She asks, confused. What had- oh. Of fucking course. “That doesn’t count!” She protests, narrowing her eyes.
“Why not?” Adrien asks, raising an eyebrow in a challenge. She scoffs.
“Because it wasn’t a fight or argument or anything. It was a joke.” She says.
“Are you talking about the adoption shit, cause that was definitely not a joke. All the kids B adopts definitely have trauma and certain features.” Jason cuts in, and Marinette sighs. Of course he would clue in.
“But- no. No. That was a fluke. A glitch in the matrix, obviously. You literally cannot name a singular other time. And technically, ya big jerk, you didn’t even name this time. Adrien did.” Marinette points out, glaring at Jason.
“I’m sorry, how long have you three known each other?” Mr. Wayne cuts in again, and this time- this time- she sees that some of the confusion on his face is real. But it looks odd, like he wasn’t used to expressing a real emotion. She really needed to remind herself to talk to Jason about this later. She didn’t necessarily want to make it a habit to stick billionaire fathers with asshole tendencies in jail, but she would. She’d do it for her boys. Any day of the week. She hums in thought, adding up the time. The anniversary of Gabriel’s defeat had been a few weeks ago, which meant-
“We’ve known Jason for just over a year.” She says, before glancing at Adrien and grinning. “But I’ve been stuck with this goof for four years.”
“You know you love me.” Adrien says with a wide grin. She rolls her eyes.
“How exactly did you meet Jason?” Mr. Wayne asks, and she kind of wants to throw her fork at him. What was it, interrogate the random kids at dinner night? Though, to be fair, they were random kids in his house. But she refused to like the man until she’d talked to Jason about the potential assholeish tendencies.
“He helped me learn some self defence after I got caught up in an akuma attack.” Marinette lies smoothly. Well, it was technically a half truth. But the Waynes didn’t need to know that she was always caught up in akuma attacks.
“Akuma?” Mr. Wayne asks, and Marinette glances at Jason with a frown. Had he not told his father about anything? Not even the basics?
“Wait, is that what the thing that flooded Paris is called?” Dick asks suddenly and Marinette nearly flinches from the memory. That was one of the akumas that still gave her nightmares. One of the ones that was burned in the back of her eyelids when all she wanted was to sleep. And not think about bloated corpses and dead classmates for one goddamn minute. She lets out a steadying breath, glancing at Jason whose face had changed from annoyance to concern. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. She could talk about akumas. It was the past. Sure, she had refused all of the therapy options her parents gave her and Adrien, but she didn’t need it. She was fine.
“Yeah. Technically, her akumatized name was Siren. But, the general term for those attacks was ‘akuma’.” She says, gripping her fork a little tighter than necessary, grounding herself with Tikki’s reassuring nudges from inside her purse.
“There were more?” Dick asks, his eyes wide. Marinette glances at Jason and raises an eyebrow. Why had he not said anything? He’d been there for an entire month of Hawkmoth’s reign. He’d seen dozens of akuma attacks. Jason shrugs. Thank Jay. Super helpful.
“When you get down to it, there were probably hundreds if not thousands more. Some people, like Siren, were turned into the same akuma several times. Some people became a different akuma when they were akumatized again. I think it just depended on the person or their issue.” Marinette explains, hating how dry her mouth felt all of a sudden. She could talk about this. She could. So why was everything a little too bright? Why was the sound of forks against plates a little too loud?
“Did the Justice League stop it?” Damian asks, though by his tone, he seems to already know the answer. Odd.
“No, the local heroes did. Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Marinette says, ignoring the constricting feeling in her chest.
“Why-” Mr. Wayne starts, but Jason clears his throat. Everyone glances at him, and Marinette is unsurprised to see the flicker of anger in his eyes. Especially after she glances at Adrien and sees how pale he’s gotten. She kicks him lightly under the table to get his attention, frowning at him in a silent question. He nods, slightly. She purses her lips, not believing for a second that he was actually okay. But they could talk later. Away from eager ears.
“I’m sure you remember what Dick said about my phone call from when I first arrived in Paris. Marinette and Adrien dealt with attacks like that interrupting their day to day lives from thirteen to sixteen. I get that you’re not the best at knowing when to drop the damn topic, but I really think you should drop the damn topic.” Jason says, and though he’s smiling, Marinette can see the danger behind it. The warning. ‘Drop it, or I’ll make you’.
“My apologies, it was just so interesting.” Mr. Wayne says and this time Marinette winces at the falseness in his voice. And the smile on his face. God, this man could not have lasted a day in Hawkmoth’s Paris.
---
Finally, finally, dinner was over. After the akuma talk ceased, it was extremely awkward. Mr. Wayne looked like he would rather be anywhere else. And Marinette couldn’t blame him, wanting nothing more than to get back to her hotel room and away from the constant lack of real emotion on the eldest Wayne’s face. It was tiresome, just watching him.
“Thanks again, for having us.” Marinette says, mostly directing her comment to Dick and Alfred. Alfred just nods.
“Of course! Come back any time. Really soon, actually, so we can work more on the trapeze. I can’t lose my new trapeze buddy.” Dick says with a wide smile. Marinette holds back a sigh, nodding instead. She liked Dick, she did. But she’d definitely have to make sure that Mr. Wayne wouldn’t be around. She still wasn’t sure what to think of him.
“You should also spar with me, some time.” Damian speaks up and Marinette blinks in surprise.
“Spar. With...you?” She says, tilting her head in confusion. That came out of nowhere.
“Yes. You took down Todd easily, and I am far superior. You would actually have a challenge if we sparred.” He says. She smirks, and suddenly, with a burst of confidence she didn’t know she had, says:
“Sure thing, Pretty boy.” Before turning and walking straight out the door. The second she’s outside, she drops her head into her hands. “I can’t believe I just said that.” She mumbles under her breath.
“Pretty boy?” Adrien says with a smirk, she glares at him and moves down the front steps.
“Fuck you.” She says, no real venom in her voice. The boy knew how she got around crushes. He’d seen it firsthand. With him. With Luka. With Kagami. With the girl with bright green eyes who worked at the coffee shop across the street from the bakery. She was an absolute disaster. He was worse, but still. He wasn’t the one with the quickly developing crush on the youngest Wayne.
“Pretty boy?” Jason asks, a scowl on his face as he catches up to the two.
“Not another word, Jason.” She scowls at him, crossing her arms defiantly. He holds his hands up in surrender.
“Sure.” He says. Her mind rushes suddenly to her previous thought. Youngest Wayne. Damian Wayne. Hadn’t Lila- she snorts, before erupting into uncontrollable laughter, ignoring the worried looks from Adrien.
“I- oh my god, Jay.” She manages to say, straightening up and following Jason to the car he was borrowing to drive them back to the hotel.
“I’m completely lost.” He says.
“Join the club.” Adrien adds, and Marinette just laughs again.
“Your little brother is Damian Wayne.” She says, as if it should be obvious. Jason doesn’t get it, and neither does Adrien. But after a moment-
“Oh my god, that’s hilarious!” Adrien cries, letting out a chuckle. Jason huffs as the trio get into the car.
“Care to share with the class?” He asks, and Marinette snorts.
“Absolutely not, I dislike the majority of those people.” She says, referring to the group who was hopefully already in their rooms and not in the lobby of the hotel. “Now it’s funny that your brother is Damian Wayne because Lila made us come to Gotham instead of New York and London, because she’s dating him.” She explains and Jason scoffs.
“Yeah right.”
“Obviously she’s not actually dating him, Jay. But it’s freaking hilarious that she thinks she’s gonna get away with it. He definitely goes to Gotham Academy, and people are definitely going to call her out.” She says, not even trying to hide the absolute glee she’s feeling. If there was ever a time for all of Lila’s lies to come crashing down around her, now would be good. When she can’t just run away and claim Marinette set it up. If people Marinette didn’t even know called Lila out, well, that would be irrefutable evidence, right?
“Her regime is gonna topple and I’m gonna take you guys out for ice cream to celebrate.” Jason declares and Marinette laughs again. She was so against the idea of Gotham originally, but now, with Jason at their sides again, she’d decided that it wasn’t so bad. Suddenly remembering what had been on her mind most of the night, she turns to Jason.
“Jay, I have a serious question. And I know it’s a little hard to talk about but just know that we’re here for you to support you, and that we’ll figure out a way to make sure you and your brothers are safe and-”
“Whoa, Pix, calm down kiddo. You’re rambling again.” He says gently, furrowing his eyebrows. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to put his full attention on the two. “What’s bothering you?” He asks.
“Is Mr. Wayne abusive?” She asks and Jason blinks. “I saw how hesitant you were to call him your father, and you were tense around him a lot of the night. And I don’t think the man had one legitimate expression all night. He was acting the whole time.” Marinette says, looking at him worriedly. “Look, Jay, I don’t necessarily want to make a habit of putting billionaires in jail, but I’d do it for you.”
“Is he- you would-” Jason stops and lets out a breath, obviously trying to compose himself. “No, kiddo, he’s not.” He finally says. Marinette frowns.
“Really?” She asks, and he sighs.
“Yeah, look. Our relationship has been...rough, for a couple years. We had a sort of falling out when I was a teenager and I stopped talking to him for several years. We reconnected a while ago, but it’s still rocky at times. I don’t usually call him dad or father or anything. He’s just Bruce, or B, to me.” Jason explains and Marinette nods, letting out a small sigh of relief.
“I was worried, Jay.” She admits, and Jason grins at her before pulling away from the curb again.
“I didn’t even catch on.” Adrien says with a frown. Marinette rolls her eyes, smiling at him with fondness.
“Course you didn’t Kitty. Reading people isn’t really your strong suit.” She says with a small smile. He huffs, but nods in agreement.
“True.” He says and Marinette laughs. She could officially take Bruce Wayne off her ‘threat to be dealt with immediately’ list and move him to ‘possible future annoyance’ list. A big improvement for the man, and it would mean she wouldn’t be as tense around him the next time she saw him.
Next
Tag list: @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z @daminette-56
#daminette#maribat#maribat fanfiction#ao3fic#platonic jasonette#maribat platonic adrienette#platonic maribat adrienette#damian x marinette#maribat damian wayne#maribat marinette dupain cheng#maribat adrien agreste#maribat jason todd#maribat dick grayson#This Side of Normal
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Promp idea: Jaskier finds a new born Griffin and Griffin thinks Jaskier is the mom. It starts to follow him. Like how hard it can be being a mother of a cute but deadly baby.
hello my dear <3 Ahh I am so so sorry it took me forever to get to this prompt! But better late than never, right? *laughs nervously*
word count: 1877
warnings: none
pairing: Geraskier, pre-relationship
AO3
---
Geralt spent more time than necessary brushing down Roach. If anyone had asked for the reason, he would have told a lie, or more likely just grunted noncommittally. Anything but tell the truth, which was that facing Roach allowed him to smile like an idiot without Jaskier seeing it. If the bard were to see that his ramblings made Geralt drop his mask of gruffness, Geralt would never hear the end of it.
“- really is heart-warming how much you care about Roach,” Jaskier said from where he said on the forest floor, something he would never have done when they had first met – or at least, he wouldn’t have done so without complaining about getting dirt on his breeches. “There’s nothing more charming than a man who takes care of animals, wouldn’t you agree?”
Geralt’s hand accidentally brushed against the braids Jaskier had plaited into Roach’s mane, while Geralt had been away on a hunt this morning. He faltered, but then he gripped the brush tighter, doing his best to pretend he hadn’t reacted to Jaskier’s words at all, when really, he couldn’t help but think that Jaskier was right.
Each winter, when Eskel brought Lil’ Bleater inside the keep to make sure she wouldn’t be cold, Geralt would feel a new wave of affection for his brother. When he saw a pompous lord drop all decorum and posture to bend down to pet a cat, Geralt would feel an unreasonable sort of respect for the otherwise stuffy and unlikable noble.
And when Jaskier snuck Roach treats when he thought Geralt wasn’t looking, he – well. He was glad that his travel companion was someone who got along with Roach. Her liking him was the main reason why Geralt had let Jaskier travel with them. He couldn’t break Roach’s heart by making her leave one of the few friends she made on the Path. Empathy for Roach - that was all he felt as he thought of her and Jaskier together. Definitely.
“Say, Geralt, how would you feel about getting another pet? Hypothetically speaking.”
Geralt huffed, his lips twitching up.
“I have already enough work feeding and cleaning up after you, songbird.”
“Excuse me?” Geralt didn’t need to see Jaskier’s face to know his mouth was opened with indignation. “Well – I have enough work washing and brushing your hair. Between the two of us, you’re the one who gets muck everywhere, wolf.” There was a brief pause. “But…that means you wouldn’t want another pet?”
Geralt’s shoulders sagged as he sighed and finally gave up on his pretence of brushing Roach. He turned, carelessly tossing the brush to the bags sitting on the ground next to Jaskier.
“Careful!” Jaskier squealed.
Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calm down. I didn’t hit you, did I?”
“Well, no, but –“ A strange noise coming from bags made Jaskier stiffen, his eyes widening, before his smile turned painfully artificial. “As I was saying, it is very rude of you to just throw-“
“Quiet,” Geralt hissed, his eyes not leaving the bags.
Jaskier shifted his weight on the ground and it was obvious he was avoiding looking at the bags. “Now really, I know you just love complaining about my voice, but –“
“Jaskier.”
Geralt’s tone made Jaskier’s mouth snap shut.
For a moment, there was utter silence. Then the strange noise returned and the bags began to move.
With slow and silent steps, Geralt crept closer, praying that Jaskier wouldn’t panic and make any sudden movements that would startle whatever was lurking in their bags and make it attack the helpless bard.
With one hand, Geralt unsheathed his silver sword. The other hand he held up in a signal for Jaskier to remain calm.
Jaskier, of course took that as a sign to do the exact opposite. The spiking of his pulse and the sudden scent of nervousness hitting Geralt’s nose were the only warning Geralt got, before Jaskier jumped up. But the bard didn’t run away from the danger into the thicket or to hide behind Geralt. No. He stood in front of the bags, holding up his own hands defensively.
“Geralt, listen. I –“
“Get away from the bags,” Geralt growled, a sudden spike of fear piercing his chest at having Jaskier so close to that unknown thing.
Jaskier only shook his head, a look of determination crossing his face.
“No. This is what I wanted to talk to you about. I…uh… might have acquired a pet? While you were off fighting…that ugly thing with the deadly teeth that I wasn’t allowed to get close to.”
Geralt halted, blinking.
“A pet?” he replied incredulously, lowering his sword.
Jaskier swallowed thickly, his eyes darting to the side, revealing that he was about to lie, even before he opened his mouth.
“Yeah. It’s a cat.”
“A cat.” Geralt repeated deadpan.
Whatever Jaskier saw on his face, he must take it as Geralt believing him, for his own expression flooded with relief. “Yes! A cat.”
“And you kept it hidden from me because…?”
“Because cats don’t like witchers! Or witchers don’t like cats. I’m still not sure about that. But anyway, I thought that maybe, if I got Daisy used to your smell first and talked to you–“
Daisy chose that moment to tumble out of the pile of bags, knocking her small head against Jaskier’s shins in the process.
Geralt and Jaskier both stared dumbly down at her. For once, Geralt was the one who found his voice first.
“A cat, huh?”
“Yes?” A furious blush rose in Jaskier’s cheeks. “In my defence, when I found her I did actually think she was a cat.”
Geralt rubbed a hand over his face, while the griffin-baby that could in no way be mistaken for a cat, began climbing Jaskier’s leg until Jaskier took mercy on her and lifted her up in his arms. He groaned with the effort. The griffin was nearly big enough to obscure the sight of Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s nose scrunched up adorably – no, there was nothing adorable about an idiot who was snuggling a griffin-baby! – when the griffin’s fur tickled his nose.
“What the fuck made you think that was a cat? Was it the beak?” Geralt lifted a brow, shooting a pointed look at the wiggling beast. “Or maybe the wings?”
Jaskier gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. “It was dark in that cave you left me in! Not all of us have witcher-eyes. And she was alone and happy to keep me company while you were gone on your hunt.”
“Yes,” Geralt said slowly, so that Jaskier couldn’t possibly miss the ‘I-think-you’re-an-idiot’-tone of his voice. “I go on hunts. Where I kill monsters like her.”
Jaskier squawked in outrage, pressing the griffin protectively against his chest. The griffin made a noise not dissimilar to the one Jaskier had just made, but after the shock of being nearly squashed receded, the griffin snuggled contently against Jaskier, chewing happily on the fabric of his doublet.
“She is not a monster! Daisy is a baby and an adorable little darling that would never do anything wrong ever!”
The sound of fabric tearing and a triumphant griffin-shriek disproved Jaskier’s words instantly.
Geralt groaned. He did that far more often since he had started travelling with Jaskier. Life had been so much easier when it had been just him and Roach. No bard who had made it his life’s mission to get in as much easily avoidable trouble as possible.
Life had also been much more boring and lonely without Jaskier. Still.
“She won’t stay a baby forever. Give it two months and she will do more than just tear holes into your clothes.”
Jaskier’s face lit up. “So I can keep her for another two months?”
“I – that’s not – “
“Besides, did you just imply that Daisy tearing holes into my clothes isn’t a bad thing?”
Geralt didn’t dignify that with a response, which Jaskier apparently took as a victory on his side, for he came closer to Geralt, holding Daisy out to him.
“Look at her, Geralt. Look into these eyes and tell me, she isn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”
Geralt didn’t need to look at her to know that that was objectively untrue. It couldn’t be true, not while Jaskier was standing right in front of him. Still, he indulged Jaskier and reluctantly stared into the little monster’s eyes, glaring at her in the most intimidating way he could. His own eyes reflected back to him from the dark griffin eyes.
An excited noise that almost sounded like purring left the griffin and with her beak, she snapped at Geralt’s hair that had fallen into his face when he had bent down to look at her.
“She likes you!” Jaskier cooed, while Geralt quickly straightened his back and put some distance between his hair and the beak and claws of the griffin. Still, she tried to snatch the strands, not unlike a cat would. Alright, so maybe Jaskier had had a point with that comparison.
That didn’t change the fact that the bard was holding a damn griffin in his arms.
“She’s already practicing hunting,” Geralt said.
Jaskier rolled his eyes. “She’s only playing. Tiny adorable griffins are allowed to play, aren’t they?”
“She won’t stay tiny! Don’t you listen to anything I told you about monsters?”
“Of course I do.” Jaskier lifted his chin in a challenge. “Which is why I know for a fact that we have to keep Daisy.” The narrowing of Jaskier’s eyes stood in stark contrast to the gentleness with which he stroked the griffin’s feathers and fur. “Griffins are reliant on their parents’ care until they learn how to fly. And!” Jaskier added, before Geralt could so much as open his mouth to protest, “You can’t leave me to take care of her on my own, because I also know that griffins mate for life and a griffin baby needs both parents to survive.”
A triumphant grin spread across Jaskier’s lips.
Geralt’s brows drew together. “I am not letting you rope me into becoming that griffin’s parent.”
Jaskier huffed. “Oh please, don’t be silly. Of course you’re not her second parent.”
Small mercies. Geralt was already about to release a sigh of relief, when Jaskier added, “That position��s already filled. Her other parent is Roach.”
And Roach, the traitor, took that as her cue to trod over to them and nose at the little creature in Jaskier’s arms that returned the mare’s greeting.
Geralt stared incredulously at the bard and Jaskier…Jaskier’s eyes softened as he watched that display. His fingers buried into the soft fur of the griffin and he pressed his cheek against the griffin’s head, nuzzling into her. He looked…happy.
Something twisted inside Geralt’s chest. He looked at Roach – a last hope of getting the moral support he needed to keep him from making a very very stupid decision.
But Roach payed him no attention. She huffed some warm breath into the griffin’s face, before nibbling on Jaskier’s already ruined doublet affectionately.
Just like that, Geralt’s fate was sealed. After all, Roach seemed to like Daisy and he couldn’t break her heart.
And…well, Jaskier had been right. There were few things more attractive than a man who liked animals.
#thank you for the prompt!#again sorry for the delay#prompt#my writing#geraskier#geralt#jaskier#roach#witcher#the witcher#fic#fanfic
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body of mine | Seokjin (M)
→ summary: It’s the night before Seokjin’s birthday and you, his ever-reliable witch slash roommate, have accidentally forgotten to get him a gift. Good thing you know magic then, right? Ten wishes shouldn’t be too hard to handle…
{or alternatively: learning the importance of living a marie kondo lifestyle, but in hindsight}
→ genre: shifter!au, magic!au, humor/crack, smut
→ warnings: jin is your magical hamster familiar, jin is chaotic (ofc), magical mischief that only zee could come up with, aphrodisiac sex, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), slightly rough sex, dom!jin if you squint, hair pulling, jin doesn’t wrap up his peepee (pls practice safe sex u guys), dirty talk, breeding kink??
→ words: 16.9K
→ a/n: IDK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL POST BUT HERE IT IS!! IM SO SORRY BUT HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @jincherie PLEASE IM GOING TO CRY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (pls send me your thots i suffered greatly for this fic i’m actually dying appa yip yip)
Whoever told you that keeping a hamster as a familiar was a good idea must have been an idiot.
It’s you – you are the idiot. Every one of your friends had warned you about the little vermin. They had begged you to kick him out the moment you found him taking a hamster-sized dump on your prized foxgloves.
You’d been in the middle of pruning the yallows in your garden when you heard a tiny squeak! to your right. When you pushed the foliage away, you saw a small hamster, cheeks puffed up with its little fists clenched by its sides, as pellet after pellet of tiny shits were pushed out of its tiny ass and onto your plants.
You brought him into your home, already making up your mind that you’d keep him as a pet. You have been feeling a bit lonely these days; surely, a tiny little hamster won’t be too much of a problem to take care of, right? You’re so excited that you even invite your friends over to behold your newfound darling.
“I’m going to kill that tiny bastard,” Yoongi hissed the moment he made eye contact with the hamster, his pupils dilating and fluffy cat ears tensing, ready to attack. You could see his claws begin to extend, so you made sure to place your new friend out of his reach. Lucky for you, Yoongi had the arm span of a toddler.
“Oh, c’mon! He’s so fucking cute though,” you cooed, tickling the hamster’s belly. It squeaked happily, nudging your finger to scratch the underside of its ears. Yoongi hissed at it from behind Namjoon’s back, his fingernails digging painfully into the gentle giant’s shoulders. The bespectacled witch didn’t even seem to bat an eye.
“Y/N, I’m all for keeping magical pets and whatnot, but I have to agree with Yoongi… That hamster has too much bastardous energy,” Namjoon said, wincing when the hamster begins munching on the sleeves of your cloak in earnest. You continued to squeal in delight, positively endeared by the cute little ball of fur in your palms.
Due to your magical abilities, you had sensed that this little hamster had magic in his veins and you guessed that he must have either been a shifter or an intellectually augmented animal. You guessed that he’s the former, much like how Yoongi is a cat shifter as well. Ever since Namjoon had befriended Yoongi and the two became partners, you admit that you’ve always been a little jealous of their natural camaraderie. You had long since yearned for someone who could assist you in your magical apothecary, but more importantly, someone you could share your time with.
You were optimistic; perhaps when the little hamster learned to shift into its human form, then you could truly begin your journey towards friendship. You’re sure that the man behind the hamster must be just as cute and lovely.
Speaking of learning to shift—
“What? You mean me?” Yoongi asked, craning his head over Namjoon’s shoulder, his curiosity getting the better of him but still remaining a safe distance away from you and the hamster. “What about learning to shift?”
“Did you just learn one day? I want to get Mr. Hamster over here to turn into a human so I can speak to him,” you explained, but the cat shifter narrows his eyes distrustfully.
“I don’t want that vermin to gain the ability to speak. I can just tell no one is going to enjoy what he has to say,” he sniffed. He growled lowly, the sound so deep and feral that you are momentarily disarmed by his hostility. Namjoon had to rub the back of his ears for a second, forcing Yoongi to calm down until his growl softened into a purr.
“Well, Yoongi can’t control his shifting abilities quite yet. I have to… forcibly change him, if you will,” Namjoon explained, watching Yoongi with loving eyes as he gently nuzzled his head into the witch’s hand. He beckoned you closer and you took a tentative step forward, keeping the hamster behind your back just to be safe. “Watch,” he said simply, as his hand trails lower and lower until it reached the back of Yoongi’s neck and he–
Poof! Namjoon simply tickled the back of Yoongi’s neck and a puff of purple smoke revealed a munchkin cat in its wake. His soft gray and white fur bristled in surprise, his teeth bared at Namjoon as he meowed in contempt. Namjoon ignored all of this, gently picking up the tiny cat and cradling him in his arms like a baby. Immediately, the shifter relaxed, eyes closing contentedly as he burrowed deeper into Namjoon’s chest.
“Woah,” you said, for lack of better words. You shook your head, gazing at the two in wonder. “I didn’t know Yoongi has a fucking eject button.”
“Yep. I sure hope you don’t abuse this knowledge, by the way,” Namjoon warned, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes told you that he probably wouldn’t mind if you did. Knowing you, there was no question that you’d take any and every opportunity to annoy the cat shifter. “If this hamster is the same, then surely it has a similar tick. Since it’s small too, I’m sure it’ll be easy to find its spot.”
“Speaking of,” you piped up, staring curiously at him. “How… did you find out where Yoongi’s spot was? Didn’t you meet him as a human?”
Namjoon shrugged, but there’s a soft pink tint coloring the tops of his ears. “Umm… Coincidence?”
You squinted at him. “Sure,” you agreed, not wanting to know why he seemed so embarrassed. You turned back to the furry matter at hand, lips pursing as you gazed upon the hamster. Surely, there should be an easy way to figure this out…
You began to roll the small hamster in your hand like a pancake, twisting and pulling the lil guy until it started squeaking in protest. You made sure not to handle it too roughly, so you were a bit surprised at how dramatically the hamster was screaming. “Just another moment, baby…” you murmured. At the sound of the pet name, the hamster paused in its squirming, staring wide-eyed at you with its tiny mouth ridiculously agape. You arched a brow, amused at the aghast expression on its face.
“Well, that settles it. You’re definitely human, by the looks of it,” you commented, poking it lightly on the nose. The hamster scrunched up its face just as a soft pink smoke started to envelop its tiny body. You coughed harshly, your sinuses tickled by the strong scent of caramel and mint. “W-well, I think I found its spot,” you pointed out helplessly, eyes watering as you tried to keep them open.
The hamster’s body was growing ridiculously hot, forcing you to drop it on your kitchen counter. You hissed, sucking on your burned appendages as you wait for the smoke to subside. Beside you, Namjoon had Yoongi held tightly in his arms, his back turned away to keep the smoke away from their faces. “Y/N, get some clothes quickly. He’s going to be cold when he finishes transforming,” was all he said, his free hand covering his nose. “This is probably going to be its first shift in a while!”
You’re still completely flabbergasted, frozen in place. “What?” you replied dumbly, standing stock still as you waited for the smoke to dissipate. As more and more of it cleared, you noticed two pairs of long legs where there originally had been none. You waved your hand a bit, fanning the remaining fumes away from your nose, allowing you to gaze upon a very naked and very tall man sitting primly on your kitchen counter.
You and the man stared each other down, neither of you blinking nor backing down. After a few moments, the man smiled brightly at you, his cheeks bunching up much like how he did in his hamster form. “Hello, human,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. You took it dazedly, still staring wide-eyed at him. “My name is Seokjin. I suppose this means I’m going to be your familiar from now on.”
Your gaze traveled downwards, your hands still clasped together with his. “You’re naked,” you said plainly.
He followed your gaze. “I suppose I am,” he mused, shrugging his shoulders. He was incredibly wide; it almost made no sense that he was a hamster just a few seconds ago. What did he do, bench press sunflower seeds all day? “I am also incredibly beautiful, but we can continue stating the obvious another day.” He released your hands, clasping them together with a beatific smile. “C’mon, human! Bring me your finest garments because my handsomely sculpted testicles are starting to shrivel up from the cold.”
Behind you, you could hear Yoongi hissing loudly in response.
And from that day forward, your adventures of living with the biggest nuisance in the world had begun.
x x x x x
[December 3, 11:39 PM]
Okay, maybe calling him a nuisance is a bit too mean… He’s not that bad. Although, you are sure that Seokjin would have gladly nipped you in the tit if he ever found out you thought so lowly of him. Which you don’t.
Usually.
Except when he’s being annoying, which is all the time. For example:
“Stop fucking biting, you little furball,” you grouse, flicking the hamster in the stomach. He gasps in response, or at least, you assume he had gasped since hamsters don’t exactly have the same vocal cords that humans do. What you do know, however, is that Seokjin seems particularly adamant to be irritating tonight, despite your numerous threats to snip his tiny hamster balls should he continue to pester you.
Unfortunately, none of your usual intimidation tactics work, thus prompting you to grab the small rodent and squeeze him like a squeaky toy. (And what do you know—he even squeaks like one too!)
“Will you stop bothering me? You know I’m busy.” You squint angrily at him, scowling when Seokjin looks back at you with faux innocence. This lil bitch wouldn’t know innocence if it shoved a finger up his ass! “You’ve been more annoying than usual. You even tried parkouring over my herb bottles even though I’ve told you numerous times that’s off limits!”
You feel only slightly bad for scolding him; after all, you are in the midst of preparing a particularly difficult potion for one of your clients tomorrow. Seokjin knows this, and you even specifically told him not to bother you until you finished for the night. While he often did like to interrupt your work for “life or death situations” such as “cuddling” or “spoon-feeding him some pudding,” he usually leaves you alone to do your work when you’re faced with tougher jobs. Today doesn’t seem to be the case as he nibbles ferociously on your sleeves, desperate for you to listen to whatever nonsense he wants to convey.
Rolling your eyes (albeit you admit you do it out of fondness), you gently take the little hamster into your hands, placing him on your kitchen floor. You make sure the stove for your potion making is turned off before you turn back to him, honking his button nose and waiting for him to shift completely.
Since it’s no longer his first time shifting, it only takes Seokjin a few seconds to transform into his human self, his large frame quickly taking up most of the space of your cramped kitchenette. He accidentally bumps his head into one of your hanging potted plants, causing him to yelp in surprise rather than actual pain. He glares pointedly at your orchids before switching that ire onto you, his normally saccharine brown eyes filled with thinly veiled contempt.
“Took you long enough,” he sniffs, poking you not-too gently in the cheek. He folds his arms, appearing to you like a child throwing a tantrum. “Well?”
You raise a brow, covertly turning on your stove once more to resume your potion-making. “Well what?” you say, stirring your small cauldron from the corner of your eye. Seokjin halts your movements instantly, pulling your arm away and half-dragging you towards your living room.
“H-hey! That potion is really sensitive, so let me go—”
“It’s almost midnight,” is all he says before dumping you unceremoniously on your old sunken couch. You grunt from the impact, but he doesn’t apologize for his gruffness (as he never has). You peer up at him, scowling slightly at his unexpectedly cryptic remark.
“And so? This potion is due for pick-up in two days and I’ll need to steep it for another 24 hours before I can even think to package it–”
Instead of replying, Seokjin takes his phone out of his pocket and thrusts the screen towards you. You look at it in confusion, confronted with the sight of his lock screen without any explanation. “It’s… 11:43?”
He rolls his eyes, though you notice a slight hint of disappointment clouding his expression. “And what about the date?” he pushes, lips pursed thinly into a line.
He’s trying to get you to understand without saying it outright – a habit of his that he’s acquired ever since he started hanging out more with Yoongi. Though the two are hardly considered friends, even Seokjin has to admit that being near the cat has caused him to pick up a thing or two, with his tsundere tendencies being one of the first.
You, on the other hand, are forced to play along with his antics. You know that it is December 3. As you try to rack your head for anything you might have missed, you’re pretty sure you’ve accomplished all your chores for today, save for the current potion brewing for the customer coming in two days. You think back on your day, listing off all the things you had done.
You had met up with Namjoon to pick up more herbs from his shop, you delivered more mana potions to the local apothecary, you passed by the street market to buy more sunflower seeds for Seokjin… What on earth could you be forgetting?
“I sincerely hope you’re joking, you know.” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought, breaking you from your trance. When you look back at him, you find that his annoyance has cleared. Hurt replaces his expression, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he waits for you to realize.
When it appears that you won’t be noticing anytime soon, he heaves a heavy sigh, eyes closing in defeat. His voice cracks when he says, “Fine. It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll just… Go to my room. Don’t worry about breakfast tomorrow because I’m gonna sleep in.” And with that, he swivels away from you, shoulders hunched forward as he quietly makes his way to his quarters.
Left shocked and even more puzzled, your gaze is stuck where he had just been moments ago, anxiety and guilt rising in your chest as you try harder to remember what it is that caused Seokjin to shut you out like that. In your seven months of living together, not once has he ever looked so dejected, as the handsome shifter often liked to push your buttons and tease you whenever you mess up. This is clearly not like the other times, so whatever you forgot must pertain to Seokjin himself.
“Am I missing something? Did I forget to season his dinner again?” Although it is entirely too plausible that you did, you highly doubt Seokjin would be that upset at having a bland meal. So what else could it…?
Just as you’re about to give up and beg Seokjin to tell you what you had forgotten, your phone beeps, a new text from Namjoon arriving just in time. You flick it on, your brain taking a moment to fully grasp the words you were trying to read.
from: joonieboobie
to: y/n
hey y/n! are you gonna spend the entire day with seokjin tomorrow? yoongi and i figured that you’d do something special for him on his bday, so tell seokjin that we’ll treat him to a birthday dinner the next day instead. don’t have too much fun, okay? use protection LMAO
Shit.
You gasp suddenly, hand flying to your mouth as horror washes over you. Did Namjoon just say… bday?! Now that he mentions it, you realize that today is December 3rd, which means…
“Tomorrow is December 4th,” you whisper to yourself. You jump out of the couch, scrambling towards your kitchen at a wicked pace. Sweat begins to form at the back of your neck as you run over to your wall calendar, where lo and behold, tomorrow’s date is circled in blood-red ink. Circled by you, even. Holy shit holy shit holy shit–
No wonder Seokjin was so hurt. You’re a terrible, foul, no-good witch! The absolute worst person in the world! How on earth could you forget your own familiar’s birthday?
“Jesus fuck, I’m screwed,” you groan, slumping over your kitchen counter in defeat. You don’t even care that your potion has long since boiled over—not when you’ve already made a bigger mistake just now. God, you’re such a clumsy bitch; what’s the point of being a potion maker who helps cure other people’s maladies if you can’t even fix your shortcomings?
“I can fix this. I can fix this. I can—” You chant this multiple times to yourself as you rush to your nearby bookshelf, pulling out every book you own to find a last-minute gift idea. Surely, there’s something in these books that can help you make it up to Seokjin, right? You’ve made almost every potion there is under the sun, surely there is something you can brew that can bring back the smile on your lovably goofy familiar?
You’ll pour over all of these books if you have to. Despite your forgetfulness, your love for your familiar rings true; you would do anything for him, whatever he might ask.
A thought passes through your mind, but you shut it down for now. A last resort, you think grimly to yourself. You have a few hours left before he wakes up, after all. You’ll find something, you’re sure.
x x x x x
[December 4, 9:14 AM]
It turns out you do not find anything, after all. A halo of books surrounds you on your living room floor, your worn fingers littered with papercuts and ink stains after spending the whole night looking for a suitable gift for Seokjin. Everything just seems too regular to be a gift, though you suppose you’re only picky because you know that Seokjin is pickier. He’d whine for days if you gave him just any gift, and nothing grinds your gears more than having a sulking hamster eating the plants in your garden.
“Grandeur,” you can imagine him saying, nose upturned in that snooty way of his. “I require the most exquisite of presents. I, after all, am above peasantry. I cannot even stand the taste of wooden chopsticks upon my silver tongue.”
Frankly, you have no idea how he’d gotten to become such a prick so haughty, given that you know that he used to live on the streets before he had met you. Regardless, you’ve always been the type of person to be a little too forgiving, so your patience for his irritating unorthodox personality is stronger than most.
Although it might not be immediately apparent to most observers, the two of you make for a perfect pair. You are the calm to his storm, the logic to his insanity, the yin to his dumbass yang. While it’s easy to say that you hold the short end of the stick when it comes to living with Seokjin, he also grounds you and keeps you from pushing yourself too hard. There have been many long nights in the past when you would be too absorbed in your work, not even remembering to eat or drink for days. All it takes is a soft poke or nibble from Seokjin to jolt you back to your senses as he reminds you time and time again that your life matters not only to you, but him as well.
He’s your familiar. Your sweet, foolish, annoying, narcissistic familiar. It really might have been fate for you to have met all those months ago in your garden, though you’d never tell him that. He’d be much too smug about it if you did, as he never did shy away from proclaiming that he was your knight in shining armor or something.
Which is all the more reason that you fear for your life now that you’ve run out of options for his birthday present. He’d never let you hear the end of it, and you can only imagine how a vengeful and spiteful Seokjin might be compared to his normal self.
You sigh dejectedly, closing your last book and shoving it across your living room floor. “This is my fault for forgetting,” you say, rubbing your temples with a grimace. Of all the times your forgetfulness could fail you, you certainly would have hoped that this would not be one of the times when it did. You must remember to ask Namjoon to restock the ingredients needed to make more head clarity potions, though you suppose you might end up forgetting to do that as well.
Every potion in your arsenal of knowledge just wouldn’t work out for Seokjin, or at least you think so. The potions are either too useless or too useful, with the latter being a bigger problem. As much as you like to tease Seokjin for his hamster-sized brain, he did have his cunning moments. You dread to wonder what type of mischief he might come up with should you give him, say, a 24-hour luck potion.
“Though I suppose he wouldn’t be able to take over the world in 24 hours… Could he?” Even as you say it, you know in your heart of hearts that he absolutely can and will. Fucking bastard that he is.
With no other options viable to you, you did have one last trick up your sleeve. You might even say this option is worse than a 24-hour luck potion, though you will be making sure that he has adult supervision while he, erm, utilizes this gift of yours. This last-minute gift idea of yours is famous amongst your circle of friends, mostly because you do have a penchant for forgetting numerous birthdays and anniversaries in the past.
You’re usually quick to resort to this last-minute gift whenever you forget someone’s birthday, as you trust that your friends would never misuse your kindness in any way. But like most things, Seokjin is a different case entirely. As you have mentioned before, Seokjin… has ways of getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Added with the fact that you were unquestionably whipped for his hamster ass, he most often can get you to do things that aren’t what most would consider being “morally sound.” You may love him, but you certainly don’t trust him.
Long story short, you are slightly terrified of giving him ten wishes for his birthday. Ten wishes that will allow him to ask you to do anything for him, as long as they’re within your abilities of course. If anyone were to find out that you were even considering offering wishes to Seokjin, much less ten wishes, you are sure that they would throttle you for the premeditated mass destruction of the human population.
Which is why you’re going to have to make some rules for the little rodent, and hope to all the deities up above that he doesn’t find a loophole of sorts. Hopefully.
It’s nearing 9:30 AM when you manage to muster up enough courage to tiptoe noiselessly into his room, not bothering to knock as you know that he will most likely ignore you. Your heart pangs when you see him curled up into a ball in his bed, still in his human form as you had not been able to transform him back into a hamster before he had stormed off the night before. He has his back turned away from the door, but you know he’s awake when you hear his muffled sniffles. Your previous trepidation is replaced with guilt immediately, causing you to lower your head in shame.
“Seokjin? Sweetie?” You say his name hesitantly, unsurprised when the shifter refuses to look at you. You pad softly towards his bed, your knee digging into the soft mattress but not daring to come closer. You want desperately to cuddle with him in bed, always having appreciated his higher body temperature, especially during the colder months.
“I’m so sorry for forgetting your birthday, Seokjinnie. I know I’m a big fool for forgetting such an important day, but I really hope you can forgive me,” your voice grows softer the more you speak, dropping to a whisper by the end of your sentence. The room is silent, save for the sound of Seokjin’s breathing and your rapidly beating heart. Your mouth feels like sandpaper when you continue, “I know this might not make it up to you entirely, but I do have a gift that I want to share with you.”
At the mention of the word “gift,” you can see the way the small hamster ears perched on his head start to twitch. You smile secretively to yourself, knowing that you finally got his attention. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you want to know what your present is?”
With a loud sigh, Seokjin rolls over to face you, his cheeks blotchy with tear stains and dried snot. You nearly cry out at the sight, but you keep your guilt to yourself, now more eager than ever to right your wrongs. You hate seeing him cry, most especially when it is you who had made him shed those tears.
“You got me a gift?” His voice is hoarse, but his curiosity is plain as day.
You nod happily, clapping your hands with excitement. “Yup! I know this will be the first time Seokjinnie is celebrating his birthday with me, so I thought long and hard about this—” a complete lie, but he doesn’t have to know that, “—and I thought it would be great if I gave you ten wishes for your birthday!”
There is a pause. In lieu of a response, Seokjin just sits up in bed, pushing off his blankets and blinking rapidly at you in disbelief. He rubs his eyes once, twice, but it still seems like he can’t believe what he’s seeing (and hearing). His mouth opens and closes, before finally saying, “Excuse me?”
You arch a brow, slightly confused as to why Seokjin seemed so astonished. “What? Do you not want ten wishes for your birthday?”
Seokjin shakes his head, looking like a possessed bobblehead with how quickly he moves. “No, of course I do! I just… You trust me enough to make ten wishes? Me?”
You cringe. “Well, trust is a strong word…”
“I knew it!” Seokjin scoffs, pointing at you accusingly. He flops back onto the bed, a deep pout on his face. “My ten wishes are probably gonna be stuff like ‘No cooking duties for a month!’ or something equally as lame.”
You roll your eyes. “Well, yes that could be one of your wishes if you so desired. But no, you can ask for fun stuff too.”
Seokjin raises a finger. “Oh really? Then how about—”
“No wishes that will allow you to attain world domination,” you interrupt, watching amusedly when he immediately deflates.
“Aww,” Seokjin mutters, dropping his finger. A second later, he raises the same finger again. “Then—”
“And no bodily augmentations as well,” you add.
Seokjin looks down at his crotch dejectedly. “Aww!” Seokjin repeats. ”Then what else am I supposed to ask for?!”
You shrug, tapping your chin. “Well, is there anything else in that empty skull of yours that you might want? There should be something you want that you can’t have.”
For a moment, Seokjin’s expression turns cloudy, like he usually does when he’s thinking deeply about something. It might have been the trick of the morning light, but you swear he gives you a quick once over, tongue poking out to wet his chapped lips. “I have an idea,” he says, voice low.
You feel your palms begin to sweat, unused to the dark look on Seokjin’s face. Anticipation fills you as you both stare at each other, neither willing to back down. “Y-yes?” you say, suddenly nervous to hear his response.
He smirks, tilting his head with contemplation. “I want…”
What? What do you want? You squeeze your fists unknowingly, forcibly keeping yourself from squeezing other parts of your body. Could it be..? No…
“Seokjin—”
“I want to beat Jeon Jungkook in a spicy noodle challenge. Just once in my fucking life!” Seokjin hollers, punching his pillow in the midst of his unexpected fury. His eyes are blazing, cheeks puffed up due to his unbridled hamster-y rage. “That little bunny bitch! Thinks he’s hot shit just because he can eat two more cups of spicy ramen more than me? Well, I want him to finally get a taste of his own medicine!”
You feel your shoulders sag in relief, wondering where on earth your brain had been going just a moment ago. “You… You want to get a spice resistance potion? Yeah, I can do that for you. Give me a second,” you say, dashing out of his room like your ass is on fire, afraid that he might notice the blush dusting the tops of your ears. You mentally slap yourself, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from strangling yourself. Keep it together, Y/N. Remember how much of an idiot he is and you’ll be fine… Just don’t think too hard about it.
Lucky for Seokjin, spice resistance potions are quick enough to make and it only takes you 10 minutes to cork the finished concoction for him. You scurry back to his bedroom, about to hand the small vial over to him when the words get caught in your throat. You’re momentarily paralyzed by the sight of his naked back, his ocean-wide broad shoulders on full display for your wandering eyes to feast on. Naked Seokjin isn’t even a rare occurrence in your household, but it doesn’t get easier to witness even as the days go by. In fact, you guess it only gets harder for you, pun intended.
Thankfully (or unthankfully), Seokjin slips on a clean shirt before turning to you, his expression lighting up when he sees you (with your mouth still fully agape) with the potion in hand. “Nice one, Y/N!” He takes the vial from you, peering at the minty green color with glee. “Oh damn, when I see that little shithead, he’s not gonna know what hit him!”
“Are you gonna go challenge him today?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’d rather spend my birthday doing other things. Plus, I already have better ideas for the remaining nine wishes I have left.”
“Such as?”
He pats your head a little condescendingly, a devious smirk playing on his lips. “No need to worry your little head, Y/N. You don’t even need to work for four wishes, because I know for a fact that you have these potions in your stock,” he says, laughing maniacally as he scampers off to your basement storage.
“Seokjin!” You call out to him, wondering not for the first time how he always manages to outrun you despite doing nothing all day except eat sunflower seeds and play videogames all day. Though you assume it might have to do with his rodent DNA, as the little shit always did manage to slip from your fingers when you’re strangling holding him in his tiny furry form.
When you get to your cellar, you find him rummaging through your stores and softly humming a tune as he takes his time sorting through your potions. You try to peek over his shoulders to see what he’s doing, but it’s a lost cause as his entire frame somehow manages to block your entire view. Fuck him and his doorframe shoulders.
“Hey, I heard that!” Seokjin says, making you realize belatedly that you did say it out loud—not that you particularly cared if he heard. You’ve thought and said worse, plus he knows it. He thrives on being an asshole.
“Can you at least tell me what you want? I can find them for you too, as long as they aren’t… too dangerous,” you say the last part skeptically, not knowing what is categorized as “dangerous” when it comes to him. For all you know, he could somehow find a way to kill a man with a healing potion.
“No, no. I got it. Here,” he hands you a medium-sized vial filled with a colorless liquid. When you turn the bottle over, you see that you labeled it as one of your hair color changing mood potions, a popular novelty potion that you sold to kids at the market sometimes.
“Why on earth would you want this?” You snort. “Let me guess… You want to feed this to Yoongi so that you can anticipate whenever he’s about to scratch your eyeballs?”
“Close, but not quite! I want you to drink it,” Seokjin says, poking his head out of the cupboard to give you a quick smile. He winks at you, which you do not return. “Come on then. Drink up!”
You squint at him incredulously. When he doesn’t seem to be joking, you exclaim, “Hold on. Why on earth do you want me to drink this?”
But Seokjin has already shoved his head back into the cupboard, the sound of bottles clinking together nearly drowning out his voice as he struggles to find the other potions he’s looking for. “No particular reason! I just never see you with crazy hair colors and I always wondered how you’d look like in pink. I think it’d suit you.”
You flush darkly in response, stammering loudly at his brazenness. “But pink is the color for…” You trail off, embarrassment short-circuiting your brain. No way he could mean… that, could he?!
“Pink is for happiness, right?” Seokjin says after a moment, not noticing your awkward demeanor as he finally exits the cupboard, three other bottles cradled carefully in his arms. He closes the wooden door with his foot, walking out of the cellar with his prizes and not bothering to check if your dumbfounded self is following suit.
It takes a second for you to snap out of your stupor, yelping when he nearly slams the basement door on your face. “No, you idiot! Yellow is for happiness! Oh Merlin, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” you curse, treading closely on his heels.
Seokjin looks at you with confusion, but he thankfully doesn’t ask what specific mood the color pink represents. “Well, I guess you’re gonna have to live with yellow hair all day.”
“And why is that?” you say lamely.
“Because I’ll get to see how happy you are to be with me! After all, I am so incredibly handsome,” Seokjin laughs haughtily. He waits for you to open the door back to the house, his resounding laughter sounding even louder when you both enter, given the acoustics of your home.
“Then I guess my hair will be blue all day instead,” you scoff, pinching him lightly in the side.
“Oh? Because you’re sad that you can’t be as pretty as me? Understandable,” he nods sagely. “Or perhaps you’ll turn green with envy because you can’t be as pretty as me? Or even orange with fear, because you can’t be as pretty as—”
After living with him for so long, you’ve long since developed the ability to mute him out without needing to plug your ears with anything. It’s a necessary skill that you pride yourself in having, as it allows you to live in peace with the insufferable twat. You pity anyone who has ever had to live with him for an extended period of time; dear Merlin, you hope to meet his mother someday, as she must have been incredibly powerful to birth such a beast into existence and raise him willingly, too.
“Hey, are you listening to me? Are you muting me again? ON MY BIRTHDAY? Stop that!” Seokjin whines, poking you in the cheek. You startle slightly, pointing him with an annoyed look.
“Sorry, your highness. Does that count as one of your wishes? Because I honestly don’t think I can handle listening to you ALL DAY. I may be a talented witch, but even I don’t think that’s within my capabilities.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “Whatever. Just drink the potion already, will you? Or would you rather I ask for a mind-reading potion instead?”
That shut you up quickly. You shudder at the thought of Seokjin with any sort of telepathic powers. You don’t consider yourself a saint, but you feel as though it’s your duty to keep him away from any sort of power. The world should thank you for your service, honestly.
Without further ado, you pop the cork off the bottle, downing the plasticky tasting potion in one big gulp. “Ugh. I don’t know why kids love this stuff. Tastes like shit.” You grimace, rushing to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.
On your way there, you notice your hair color begins to change from the mirror you keep above the kitchen sink. Your roots are starting to gain a light brown color, the default shade of the potion, but the color quickly drains out as you take your first sip of water. By the time the terrible taste is out of your tongue, your hair has turned completely gray. You finger your tresses, staring at its unnatural steeliness. “Well, at least we know it works. Gray means neutral if I remember correctly.”
“Damn, so this is how you’d look when you turn 50. Would still bang, not gonna lie,” Seokjin whistles, narrowly missing a jab to the stomach from you.
“No one asked for your opinion,” you retort hotly, hoping to the heavens that your hair isn’t changing color again.
Judging from Seokjin’s smirk, your prayers are useless. He cards a hand through your hair, admiring its new color. “Oh, interesting! Purple is for embarrassment, right? Wow, this is gonna be much more fun than I would have imagined!”
“A-anyway,” you slap his hand away, taking a step away from him to keep him from seeing your burning face (though it’s not like you hadn’t already been exposed anyway. Stupid magic potion.) You point to the three remaining bottles he had stolen from your basement, eager to divert the conversation away from the topic of your vulnerable emotions. “What about these? What on earth would you need—” You turn one of the bottles upside down, reading the label. “An illusion potion? Oh Seokjin, I don’t know about this one…”
Seokjin groans. “Oh, come on! The only rules you had were no world domination and no body augmentation, but you never said anything about fake body augmentation!”
“Trust you to find a loophole in any given circumstance,” you sigh, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to stall the incoming migraine (too late for that, given that the personified version of a headache happens to live with you.) “Okay, fine. Tell me what you’re gonna use it for and then I’ll decide.”
“Simple,” Seokjin snaps his fingers. He trails his hands to his ass, squeezing the globes of fat with a sad sigh. “I want people to think I have an ass thicker than Park Jimin’s.”
For some indiscernible, unconnected reason, you feel as though one of the blood vessels in your brain just popped. In any case, having a stroke might be a better fate than continuing to live in the same universe as the withered toenail in front of you. “I beg you to repeat that sentence. Think about your words first, really grasp their true meaning. Try to remember what it’s like to have functioning brain cells. Then try to repeat your words with a straight face.”
“I. Want. People. To. Think. I. Have. An. Ass. Thicker. Than. Park. Jimin’s.” Seokjin repeats, his expression as flat as his ass. “Are you happy now? Will you grant my wish, please? You said no bodily augmentations, so having the illusion that I have thick ass should be perfectly acceptable, is it not?”
“I rue the day you learned to speak the human language.” You sigh irritably, pocketing the offending potion. When Seokjin begins to protest, you silence him with a quick glare. “Don’t worry, you fucking moron. I’m only allowing you to use this potion with my supervision and I simply don’t have the time to watch you bump bubble butts with the local village thot right now,” you explain.
Seokjin nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Indeed… I will need your assistance when I walk into town once everyone sees me with my ass shots and tiddies done. The people will simply devour me in an instant.”
“Are you aware that every moment you breathe, you are poisoning the air with your toxic presence?” you say with a deadpan stare. Ignoring his indignant squawks, you take a look at the two remaining bottles. “Alright. Please fucking tell me these are at least slightly sensible choices…”
“If there’s anything I know after living with you, it’s that our definitions of ‘sensible’ vary greatly between us,” Seokjin says, and for once you couldn’t agree more. He takes the last two bottles, turning them over to show you the labels underneath. “They’re luck and truth potions, each with a dose worth one hour. And before you say anything,” Seokjin beats you to the punch, holding a finger up when it looks like you’re about to protest, “These aren’t for me.”
You scrunch your brow in confusion, not quite following his logic. “What? Then what’s the point?”
Seokjin’s grin is mischievous, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. You’re familiar with that look, as it’s the same kind of expression he has whenever he plans to do something incredibly stupid, like eating uncooked noodles before pouring boiling water down his throat in order to eat instant ramen faster. You’ve been at the victim of too many of his ridiculous schemes to not know that whatever he is planning can’t be innocent.
“It’s simple, my dear Y/N. This is all part of my ingenious master plan that I thought of ten minutes ago,” Seokjin explains, tittering haughtily like some poorly designed video game villain. “Hold the applause, because my plan is going to rock your socks off.”
“I’m not even wearing any socks.”
“Then my plan will put socks on you, my dear. That’s how incredible it is,” Seokjin says, undeterred. “So basically, we’re finally going to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck.”
Seokjin pauses for dramatic effect, waving his hands around like a magician would, except the only magical act he’s ever performed was to be born as the first-ever living creature without a functioning brain. “Well?” he prompts, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you not going to ask me how I’m going to do it?”
Your expression morphs from confusion, to incredulity, to frustration, to acceptance all in five seconds flat. You’ve long since realized that it’s easier not to ask too many questions for the sake of your mental health, though you suppose it might be important to ask a few questions, mostly for the sake of your friends’ safety. You’ve lost enough acquaintances as it is, all because your familiar with rocks for brains wouldn’t know decency if you shoved it up his ass.
(PS: No, they aren’t dead, but they’ve told you that Seokjin makes them feel like death anyway. That’s just the sort of effect he has on people.)
“Fine, I’ll bite. What’s your ingenious plan to get Yoongi and Namjoon to fuck entail?” you ask, gritting your teeth in preparation to withstand the pure, unadulterated strength of his dumbassery.
“Well firstly, I need the luck potion to win rock, paper, scissors against Yoongi,” Seokjin starts, smirking at the thought. “It’s been my dream to beat him at the game, as the score right now between the two of us is 349 to null in his favor—”
“That’s just because you always play paper. Consistently. You never use scissors or rock,” you deadpan.
Seokjin gasps, holding a finger up to your lips to silence you. “I am above using rocks! I am no barbarian! And do you think I’d ever use scissors? That is just one step away from me throwing up a peace sign like some sort of weeb!” Seokjin retorts, nose upturned in the air. You struggle to keep your fists by your sides, the itch to punch him in his perfectly sculpted nose growing by the second.
“Regardless, I intend to win this time,” Seokjin continues. “And I will make him take the truth potion as my prize for winning so that he may finally confess his feelings for Namjoon and end their five-year-long mutual suffering.”
“Don’t you mean mutual pining?”
“Same thing,” Seokjin shrugs. “You and I both know that those two idiots will continue to skirt around each other like teenagers who only just realized that their penises can be used in different ways other than for pissing. They’ve been in love with each other for far too long and I intend to be the cupid that brings those two together.”
“Why must you phrase things like that,” you sigh, not really asking with the intent of hearing an answer. You’ve been asking him the same question for months now, and have yet to receive an answer that isn’t “because I can!”
“So does that mean you’ll let me use the luck and truth potions?” Seokjin asks, his lip jutted out in what he probably presumes is a cute manner, but all it does is make him look like his bottom lip got stung by a hornet. (Still kinda cute though, you think to yourself.)
After taking another five seconds to deeply access the state of your life, you sigh tiredly, feeling weary beyond your years. Figures that he would notice the attraction between your two best friends, but still remains oblivious to your own feelings.
“Fine,” you acquiesce, crossing your arms in an attempt to look annoyed. You aren’t doing a very good job, however, as you try not to smile at Seokjin’s unabashed excitement. Fuck him for being so adorable when he’s happy. Why couldn’t he be excited over more normal things, like R-18 video games or hentai?
You clear your throat, stopping his celebration. “Do you really want to spend your birthday getting Namjoon and Yoongi to get together though? Pardon me for saying this, but I seriously didn’t think you’d want to help them.”
“Why not?”
“You always seemed a little too enthusiastic whenever the two of them were being...” you pause, stuck on the word you want to use.
“Super stupidly horny for each other? Yeah, I admit that I do enjoy watching Namjoon getting a boner whenever Yoongi does that weird cat thing,” he says, shrugging.
“Weird cat thing? You mean when he stretches and his entire torso grows twice as long?”
“Precisely!” Seokjin claps his hands, grinning ear to ear. “It’s super gross and weirdly cute! I don’t know how Namjoon finds that even remotely horny-inducing. Must be a cat person thing.”
You shake your head, unwilling to think deeper about the psychological mechanisms of your friends. “Besides the point. Do you want to head over to Namjoon’s place now? They invited us for dinner tomorrow to celebrate your birthday anyway, so we can always do this next time, or…”
“Hell no,” Seokjin is quick to interject, knowing that you're just trying to weasel your way out of being an accomplice in his ill-planned hijinks. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "You are not getting out of this. We are doing this today before either of us forget! C'mon, it won't take that long."
"That's what I was afraid you'd say," you grumble. "But fine. Just gimme a sec to get ready," you point at Seokjin's ahegao printed pajamas with disgust, "—and you should probably change out your clothes too."
Seokjin looks down at his clothes with a confused expression. "What's wrong with my PJs?"
"I think the more important question is what's wrong with you," you reply, stalking off to your bedroom. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear his squawks of offense.
As you hadn't gotten sleep the night before, you only just notice that you're still wearing yesterday's clothes on your back, the sweat after hours of worrying about what to get Seokjin making your shirt stick grossly to your armpits. You strip off quickly, doing your best to freshen up and look semi-decent (though there isn't much of a need; you've been friends with Namjoon long enough that he's seen you at your worst.)
You pass by your dresser, seeing your reflection in the mirror. Your hair color is shifting from yellow to brown at a rapid pace, making it appear as though you'd been the victim of a terrible dye job.
"I'm a victim, for sure..." you mutter to yourself, fingering your multi-colored locks. The brown color is for annoyance, which shouldn't be much of a surprise to anyone, but the yellow? Happiness isn’t exactly the word you’d describe your emotions right now. And also, do your eyes deceive you? Is there a patch of pink appearing just at the crown of your head?
“No, no… This is no good at all.” You force yourself to think of sad thoughts, trying desperately for the colors to change—but to no avail. Luckily, that hamster bastard doesn't remember what pink means, or else you'd definitely be screwed, and maybe not even in the good way.
You sigh tiredly, slumping over onto your bed when the fatigue from the day finally hits you. “It’s only morning, and I already want to die. Must be a record,” you snort in exasperation, watching as the tips of your hair turn black in response. “Wow, thanks magic. No one would have guessed I was tired unless you said so,” you mutter sarcastically.
You never thought that you were much of a tsundere, but you're starting to understand the appeal. People knowing your emotions so easily is disconcerting, to say the least. You'd rather die than let Seokjin know that his stupid little antics actually do make you happy, since spending time with him doing pretty much anything is always a good time. It's just... someone has to hold the brain cell in the relationship, and you never would have expected that you'd be the wielder majority of the time.
When you step out back into the living room feeling more refreshed, Seokjin is ready to go. Which is to say, he hasn't moved a single inch from where he was standing just ten minutes ago.
"You bitch! I told you to get dressed," you snap. You pull him by the ear, making the 179 cm adult man whine like a little baby. "Take your clothes off!"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he wheezes, still grimacing from the throbbing pain from where you had tugged his lobe. He tries to wink at you but fails tremendously. He looks like he’s having a funky lil seizure instead. "Just transform me into my animal form and let me ride in your pocket. It's too cold out to walk! You know how sensitive my nipples are! They turn into ping pong balls when it's winter."
"I don't care. Please stop using me as your personal taxi service; you've shat in the pockets of two of my coats already," you grumble, but your pleas remain unheard. He pouts, and your feeble willpower disintegrates immediately at the sight. You sigh, "But since it's your birthday, I won't complain about it this time."
"You literally just complained though?"
You ignore him. You outstretch your finger, ready to boop. "Alright, gimme your nose, wench."
Instead of coming closer as you expected, Seokjin just gives you a contemplative look. Never a good sign. "Actually, that gives me an idea..."
"Oh, dear Merlin. Not another one of those. Please spare me," you groan.
"This one is easy though!" Seokjin tuts, bonking you on the head. You hear something click in the back of your skull, but now is not the time to ponder about such trivialities. He continues, "Instead of my nose being my transformation point... Do you think you could—"
"I am not making your penis your transformation point," you interrupt.
"—make my butt my transformation point? Wait, hold on, nevermind. I think I like your idea better," Seokjin jumps in excitement, but his mirth dies when he sees your unimpressed stare. "Okay, fine. No penis touching. But butts! You touch my butt all the time anyway! It shouldn't be that different."
"Yeah, but I only touch your ass so often because you beg me to punch and massage it in hopes of it becoming bigger. Which, by the way, isn't a real thing. You should do squats instead or something."
Seokjin gasps, scandalized. "Me? Working out? Please, that's as improbable as Yoongi turning into a regular-sized person!"
"I'm telling Yoongi you said that," you roll your eyes. "And to answer your question, no I won't switch your transformation point to your—" Wait, hold the phone. That gives you an idea. A glorious plan, something that might finally teach him a lesson.
No way in hell he would fall for that, though, you think idly to yourself. You’d be too obvious! Unless..?
"What is it?" Seokjin asks, confused when you suddenly stop speaking. He gazes curiously at the way your eyes are glazed over, concerned when he sees the way the corners of your lips twitch slightly. "What's up with you?"
You snap out of your reverie, your mischievous thought quickly cementing itself in your mind. Seokjin may be a chaotic shithead, but so are you. No one can endure living with Kim Seokjin for long without gaining a few shithead genes in the process, and you're no exception. This will teach him to be a little more conscientious, you hope. It's a pipedream, but as they say... Reach for the moon, and if you miss, then at least you'll get swallowed up by a black hole and turn into spaghetti.
"Nothing. Just had a thought, thot." You whistle innocently, barely holding down your grin when Seokjin stares at you suspiciously. Fortunately, your hair color hasn't given you away. To be fair, you didn't know light blue was the color for being a jackass either; you learn something new every day. "Nevermind that. I changed my mind. I'll grant your wish. After all, it is your birthday."
"That's right!" Seokjin exclaims, but there's a note of uncertainty and nervousness in his tone. He squints at you, pursing his lips. "Aha... Of course, it's only right that you give me what I want. It's what you promised, after all."
"Yes, yes... What Seokjin wants, Seokjin gets..." You trail off, your mind preoccupied as you hurriedly go over to your kitchen cupboard. You aren't sure if you kept them or not, so it takes you a few moments of sifting through all the bottles of herbs before you find it in the back, where it has gained a thin layer of dust all over it. You wipe it off, humming in victory when you see that it's exactly what you need.
You take a quick look at the bottom of the bottle, pleased to see that Namjoon had forgotten to label it, like always. But you remember what it is, even though you've never really quite needed to use this particular herb. He had given it to you as a strange novelty item a long time ago: it was an ingredient for obscure potions that were never really ordered at regular magical apothecaries, which is why it had remained untouched in your cupboard until today.
By itself, it has strong magical properties too, or rather... You suppose it would be more accurate to call them side effects. It has an incredibly confounding side effect that some might consider dangerous, which is why it's important to handle this herb with the proper protective equipment. Not that Seokjin would know that, of course.
"Here," you say, handing over the innocuous-looking bottle to Seokjin. He peers at it, turning it over to look for the nonexistent label.
"What is this? Weed?" he murmurs, popping the lid open and taking a tentative sniff. "Doesn't smell like it," he says, raising a brow in confusion. You let out a small giggle, but thankfully, he doesn't notice your slip up.
"Nah, it's called the Baliktad herb. I remember that Namjoon had given it to me ages ago, and it's coincidentally something you can use to... transfer magic from one body part to another." You choose your words carefully, though it's not like you're lying, anyway. Vagueness is the first step in deceit, after all.
"Really? How does it work?"
"Simple! All you have to do is grind some of the herbs into a powder, mix it with some water to form a paste, then rub it on your nose and your butt. Wait a few seconds and poof!"
Seokjin nods, intrigued. "Wow, I've never heard of this thing before. Are there other uses for this? Say, what if I rubbed some of it on my dick instead—"
"Oh shut the fuck up and give me that," you grab the bottle back, glaring at his impish face. "You know what? I can't trust you to administer it on yourself. Lemme make the paste and I'll rub it on you."
"That sounds hot," Seokjin winks, barely dodging your kick to his nuts. "Hey, hey! Feet off the prize, darling! My balls are where the ladies get their babies."
To stop yourself from screaming, you keep your mouth shut this once. Besides, you're too excited for what you're about to do to him, so keeping silent is a small price to pay. All of it will be worth when you finally give him a taste of his own medicine. Or rather, a smell of his own medicine.
When you finish grinding the herb into a paste, you clear your throat, gesturing for Seokjin to sit on the couch. "Alright, let me put some on your honker first before I get to your ass. And no, you better not make some 'ass is grass' joke."
Seokjin visibly deflates. "Hey, what the fuck? You stole my joke before I even said it! I guess that's soulmate culture for you," he sighs dreamily, before yelping loudly when you shove two gloved fingers up his nostrils. "Hey! What was that for!"
"Oh, sorry," you apologize unapologetically. "I was just worried that if I slathered it on top of your nose, I might accidentally trigger your transformation, so I took the safer route it jammed it up your nostrils instead."
"Whatever happened to a gentlelady's touch..." he whines, scowling petulantly at you. "Wait, if you're gonna jam it up my nostrils, then does that you're also gonna jam it up my—"
Before he can finish his sentence, you push him down onto his stomach, kneeling on his back and literally stealing his breath away. "Aight, rat. I'm shoving your pants down now," you warn gruffly. He makes a winded sound, probably a snarky response that would have made you slap his nuts. Fortunately, your legs were currently crushing his windpipe and leaving him incapable of speaking.
It's funny how you’ve become numb to the sight of his naked ass at this point. Once upon a time, you had blushed constantly at the sight of his sweet cheeks, making for an awkward first two months of living together. Every time you close your eyes, the two globes would be imprinted underneath your lids, haunting you. Nowadays, you'd be more concerned if he wasn't wearing his signature "God Won't Let Me Die" booty shorts.
Also, despite what he says, he isn't completely assless. He has a substantial amount of cake, certainly nothing to scoff at. You grumble and moan about "having" to massage his ass, but honestly? Who wouldn't want to grab his ass? You might be stupid, but you aren't an idiot.
“The salve is going to be cold, by the way,” you warn, though it’s useless to say at this point since he already experienced it when you shoved up his nose just two minutes ago. Whatever.
Unlike then, you are much gentler applying the salve on his butt this time, mostly out of fear that 1) you'd accidentally penetrate his asshole with your finger like that one time (don't ask), or 2) you'd massage his butt like you know he wants you to.
“Harder, mommy,” he fake moans, wiggling his ass. You almost slap him on instinct, but think better of it.
"I hate that you're such a... debauched cretin," you say, tenderly rubbing his ass with a scowl. If any bystander were to see you, they'd might have thought you were his kind girlfriend rubbing medicine on a bruise or massaging your poor fatigued boyfriend. One might have even thought you were rubbing him a little bit too sensually, but little do people know... You were playing a stupid little prank on your dumbass familiar that may or may not cause him to beat you up (not that it would be much of a punishment to you, anyway. They don’t write romances like these anymore, huh?)
He taps you on the thigh, and you guess that he’s probably having difficulty breathing from your weight on his back. Feeling kinda bad for him, you shift your legs over, choosing to straddle him instead. However, the regret from your decision comes instantaneously the moment he regains his breath.
"You love me, though. You think I'm funny," Seokjin replies, albeit his voice is still a little strained under your weight. "You think I'm cute, too."
Yeah, you do. "I think your hamster form is cute. Get that shit out of your head," you scoff, but your heated cheeks betray you.
“I can’t see you right now, but I bet your hair is an insane shade of purple, isn’t it?” he teases, wiggling like a worm to express his glee.
“Fuck you,” you grouse. You slap his thigh twice in retribution: the first one for teasing you, and the second one for pretending to moan after you had slapped him the first time.
He was only half-right about your hair, anyway. You catch a glimpse of your pastel purple and pink hair from the corner of your eye, alarmingly visible for all to see. Honestly, it doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out what pink actually means, most especially since you have never been subtle with your affections for him. After all, not everyone has the patience to keep up with his antics. The fact that you haven’t squashed him into a tiny hamster pancake is proof enough that you really do love him.
I mean, who else would give Kim Seokjin ten wishes on his birthday? That's giving him way too much power that no one should be comfortable with. Just goes to show that maybe like attracts like, sometimes. You must be a little crazy too, you suppose.
He’s never caught on to your feelings, however, as he probably thinks you’re more like an annoying younger sister or something. After all, you bicker with him more than anything else, but that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.
Luckily or unluckily for you, Seokjin doesn’t comment on your hair color when he sits up after you finish rubbing the herbs onto his gooch. He’s much too busy wrinkling his nose in confusion, his forehead scrunching as the herbs are presumably starting to take effect.
“How am I supposed to know when the herbs work?” he asks, scratching his nose. The salve has dried out considerably, turning more into flecks that fall off when he disturbs it. So now, it looks like he has disgusting leathery boogers hanging out from his nostrils. Somehow, he makes it work anyway.
“Oh, you’ll know,” you respond vaguely, smiling when you can tell that Seokjin’s suspicions are beginning to grow. “Want me to test it out?”
Seokjin nods, leaning closer and presenting you with his nose. You tap him gently on the tip (lol), both of you waiting for the scent of caramel and mint to signal his shift. When nothing comes, Seokjin gasps in elation, clapping his hands gleefully as he bounces up and down in his seat.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked! I was so sure you were gonna prank me… I overestimated you,” he says haughtily, pointing his stupid nose up in the air. He guffaws, standing up and wagging his ass at you smugly. “C’mon, then! Slap my ass and let’s see if it really works!”
You don’t move immediately, disappointed when the actual effect of the herb doesn’t seem to be working. You pout, observing him skeptically. “Wait, hold on. Are you sure you don’t feel weird?”
His victory hoots come to an abrupt halt. “No? Why would I be?”
“Don’t you… smell anything odd?”
Seokjin looks at you weirdly. “No? Unless you count not smelling my transformation scent, then—wait, just a second.” He freezes up, sniffing the air with a disgusted expression on his face. “Shit, you’re right! There’s something super funky in the air. You didn’t fuck up my sense of smell or something, did you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping your p. Your smirk grows, breathy giggles escaping you. “Say, can you describe what you’re smelling?”
“Oh Merlin, it’s terrible! It smells like shit? Like fucking… like ass or something!” He grimaces, sticking his tongue out as he is assaulted by the stench that only he can smell. “What the fuck is that? Oh my fucking word…”
You’re breaking into full out laughter at this point, nearly falling over onto the floor from the strength of your mirth. You barely hear Seokjin’s squawks of bewilderment, ignoring his demands to tell him what you had done to him.
“I can’t believe it worked,” you wheeze, hunched over on your knees. You’re spraying spit everywhere from your hysterics, though you are exaggerating your delight a little just to piss Seokjin off. You point and scream at his face, hollering like a banshee until he finally grabs your wrists to make you stop.
“Out with it! What the hell did you do to me?” he shouts, shaking you roughly with unhinged eyes.
It takes you a moment to respond, unable to breathe through your giggles. “You—you’re fucking—smelling your own—wheeze—your own ass!”
Seokjin stares at you, dumbfounded. “What?!”
“Your—HAHA—your fucking ass! I switched your nose to your ass, you idiot! Just like you asked!”
Seokjin’s jaw drops, complete bafflement and betrayal on his expression. He backs away from you, shaking his head slowly with bugged-out eyes as he begins to fully understand the weight of your treachery. “You,” he seethes, venom dripping from that singular word. He sounds like a pet owner about to scold their dumbass cat for eating his prized plastic big booby women figurines or something.
You grin sweetly back at him, batting your eyelashes for extra effect. “Me? What about me?”
You don’t even have the reflexes to dodge him when he lunges for you, grabbing your neck and strangling you. “You bitch! How could you do this to me on my birthday!”
“Hehehe…” you wheeze, sounding even more goblin-ish with his grip on your throat. “You underestimated me, bastard. You asked for your ass to become your transformation point, and I did. You never said I couldn’t make transfer your sense of smell, too.”
“I didn’t ask you to make me smell my own ass! This is fucking garbage!” he yells, letting you go. You gasp for breath, but you’re still shaking with laughter at the absolutely deranged look in his eyes. He looks like an ape that was recently set free from his enclosure and out onto the streets.
“That’s what you get for not wiping your ass, then!” you retort, sticking your tongue out petulantly.
“Well, we can’t go to Namjoon’s house when all I can smell is my own fucking ass! Merlin, I should’ve downed the luck potion when you left to get changed, but I wanted to be A GOOD PERSON and so decided against it,” he sniffs, utterly irked by this turn of events. “I’m never going to be a moral person again!”
“When have you ever been one? I wasn’t even aware you had a conscience,” you say. “Wait, that reminds me. I’ll be taking these until we go to Namjoon’s, then!” You grab the luck and truth potions, keeping them behind your back. Seokjin immediately tries to grab them, but you’re quick to punch him in the gut with your free hand.
“Ooph! You’re such a meanie—aw shit!” Seokjin screams, holding his hands to his nose instinctively. “Fuck! That was a dirty move! You know hitting my stomach makes me fart! I can’t even cover my nose!”
“Hey, maybe for your next wish, you should ask for some cake. Then maybe we can recreate the cake farts video,” you suggest, mostly as a joke. But of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Seokjin starts to seriously contemplate your offer.
“Hmm… I was gonna ask for cake next, but now you’re making me really want cake now,” he hums, shrugging you off when you hit him in retaliation. “What? Why do you keep hitting me?! You’re the one who said it, not me! We might as well turn lemons into lemonade!”
“It was a fucking joke, you moron! I’m seriously going to eat you if you don’t stop being weird—”
“Oh shit, how do you keep reading my mind? Vore was gonna be my next wish too—”
“Shut up!” you hiss, your ears perking up. “I think I heard something from outside.”
You were both so busy bickering with each other that you hadn’t noticed that the doorbell had been ringing for the last minute or so. You both freeze, hearing the shrill sound of the bell going off, followed by three loud knocks. “Hello? Y/N? Are you home?” a familiar voice calls out. “It’s me, Taehyung!”
“Taehyung?” you shriek, staring incredulously at the door. He isn’t meant to visit until the end of the month to pick up refills for his grandfather’s medication. What could he need all of a sudden? “H-hold on! Gimme one sec!”
You’re only two steps away from answering the door when a growl (a squeal? Can hamsters growl?) stops you in your tracks. You slowly turn back to Seokjin, your blood running cold when you remember his blatant dislike for this particular customer. In fact, his aversion towards Taehyung runs so deep that you never allow him to stay in his human form around him lest he begins cursing him out like a sailor.
It doesn’t help, however, that Taehyung only ever sees him in his hamster form and constantly coos at him like a pet. You’ve had to apologize numerous times for the dozens of bites all over his hands and arms, but Taehyung always laughs it off, too oblivious to realize that a two-inch hamster wants to suffocate him with his own mullet.
There seems to be no discernable reason as to why Seokjin loathes Taehyung with such passion, though you’ve always suspected that it’s because he feels threatened by people prettier than him. You’d be the last person to admit to him that he’ll always be the prettiest in your eyes, especially since it would only make him ten times more insufferable.
Until then, Taehyung is just going to have to deal with a murderous, psychotic furball coming for his life.
Aforementioned psychotic furball takes a step towards the front door, but you’re quick to block his path. “Don’t you dare,” you warn, but you can already sense Seokjin’s hackles rising.
“I know what I want for my next wish,” Seokjin responds instead, disregarding your order.
“Overruled. I’m not letting you kick Taehyung in the nuts,” you say, hands poised to attack. You’re about to smack him on the nose when you realize that it’s not going to work this time. “Fuck! Give me your ass! I am not letting you get away with murder for your birthday!”
“I’ll give you my ass next time, darling. For now, I must defeat my sworn enemy, once and for all!” he howls, making a mad dash towards the door. “I’ll kill you, pretty boy! Only one person can be pretty, and it’s going to be me!”
He may be quicker than you on a regular day, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gives you enough speed to land a loud, fat slap on his ass before he can even think to twist the doorknob open. Seokjin yelps in surprise as he turns towards you with a betrayed look in his eyes, before promptly being swallowed up by pink smoke and leaving an aggressive ball of fur where he once stood.
“Squeak! Squeak squeak squeak squeak!!” he squeaks, and you’ve long since learned his mannerisms well enough that you know that he just said “Y/N! I’ll fucking kill you!!” or something to that effect.
You pick him up gently into your hands, shushing him to no avail. “Fine, if you’re going to be that way—” you hiss, glaring at him when he gives you a haughty squeak. “—then I’ll just have to...yah!” you yell, hucking him across your living room and (safely) onto the couch.
(Caution: Do not do this to your hamsters. Seokjin is a magical hamster and is unnaturally sturdy, even in hamster form. He is an outlier and should not be counted. Plus, he deserves it.)
With Seokjin out of the way, you finally manage to get the door open without trouble. You greet Taehyung with a smile, although you do not doubt in your mind that you must look a bit worse for wear. Like the gentleman that he is, Taehyung doesn’t comment on your haggard appearance.
“Hey, Y/N. Sorry for intruding without notice. May I come in?” he asks. You nod a little too enthusiastically, stepping aside and allowing him into your abode. You glance at the couch, gasping quietly when you don’t see Seokjin anywhere.
“Shit,” you curse lowly, to which Taehyung turns to you with a confused look.
“Pardon?” He must have mistaken your agitation to be directed towards him, as he bows to you apologetically. “Sorry again, you must be busy with other things today, but I’m in desperate need of a refill.”
“A refill?” you ask, semi-distracted as your eyes flit around the room, desperately searching for the small brown ball undoubtedly zipping around right under your nose. “What for? Is your grandfather doing okay?”
“Yes, ol’ pops is doing fine. I’m here to ask for a refill for… the other thing,” he coughs, cheeks darkening ever so slightly. His embarrassed tone breaks you from your search for Seokjin, forcing your gaze on him instead.
“The other thing? What do you mean—oh,” you interrupt yourself, finally understanding his meaning. “That thing.”
Taehyung nods frantically, hiding his face in his hands. “S-sorry, I know I asked for that potion as a one-time thing, but I met this new girl who’s really energetic, and let’s just say that I’m not keen on disappointing her when we’ve only started dating.”
You chuckle lightly, patting him on the back. “No need to explain, Tae. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I just hope this girl doesn’t accidentally kill you like the previous one. Didn’t you say you went at it for three days straight?”
Taehyung groans, his flush growing until it reaches the back of his neck. “D-don’t even remind me about that! I accidentally took two doses of the potion that time and I was wishing for death by the seventh hour. I swear, I thought my dick was gonna turn into a raisin by the end of it—”
“Squeak!”
You both turn your heads towards the shrill noise coming from somewhere in your kitchen. “Shit, I forgot! T-Tae, just stay right here! I’ll be right back.” You jog towards the source, suddenly remembering that there was a live rodent on the loose with an evil agenda and only you would be able to stop him from fulfilling his goals.
You burst inside, immediately spotting that your bottom cupboard is ajar. It’s where you keep your extra stores of potions for regular customers, but you have very little time to wonder which potion Seokjin is aiming for before you’re already ripping open the door to stop the vermin.
“Oh you fucking little ballsack,” you snarl, dismayed when you realize that you’re too late. Seokjin has already found the potion he was looking for, having opened it up and already halfway finished drinking the damn thing.
You slap him away from the bottle before he can do any more damage, smacking him hard enough that his tiny hamster body slams against the cupboard wall. You don’t miss the victorious furry grin on his face, holding up a tiny hamster thumbs up to spite you. “What the hell did you drink?” you hiss, grabbing the half-empty bottle and flipping it over to read the label. “Verbosity potion… Oh, you bastard!”
You know Seokjin has always wanted to cuss out Taehyung like it’s his life mission, but you’ve always made sure that he was safely locked away in his bedroom whenever the younger boy was over for a visit. Seokjin knows today was his only opportunity to get his way, especially since he could always weasel his way out of punishment by using his birthday as an excuse.
“If you say even one word to Taehyung, I swear I’ll—”
“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Taehyung asks meekly from the living room, still standing where you had left him. He has his neck craned slightly to check up on you, but your back is thankfully blocking his view of the tiny psychopath you call your familiar.
“Y-yes! Everything’s just peachy keen,” you laugh nervously, your attention still focused on Seokjin. Your familiar has yet to make a peep, and both of you are slightly confused when he struggles to speak.
“S...squeak?” Seokjin asks, blinking in bewilderment. He looks to you for an explanation, but you’re as lost as he is. Not to toot your own horn, but you’re one of the greatest potion makers of your generation; it’s almost unheard of for your potions to not work.
You don’t question it for now; instead, you grab Taehyung’s requested refill from the back, the red and pink label making it easy to locate. “Here you go! This should be less intense than the previous one I gave you. This one will lose its effect once you’ve… finished, to say the least,” you grimace, smiling awkwardly.
Taehyung takes it from you, shaking your hands wildly. “Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re definitely a lifesaver. I owe you one,” he says, already making his way out the door. “I’ll hand over the payment to you when I come to pick up my grandfather’s medicines at the end of the month if that’s fine with you!”
“No worries, Tae. Take care!” you call out, waving goodbye until he closes your door shut. With Taehyung gone, you instantly return to kneel in front of your cupboard, where Seokjin is still slumped over, unmoving. He looks more dazed than usual, his black eyes unseeing as he stares somewhere behind you.
“Seokjin? You alright? Can you speak?” you ask, but he doesn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard you. You wave a hand in front of his face, snapping your fingers when that doesn’t work. “Hey, smooth brain. I’m sorry for smacking you, okay? I know it’s your birthday and I should be treating you better, but you really shouldn’t snoop around in my potion stores and drink stuff without my permission.”
When Seokjin still does not reply, you decide to pick him up and place him on the floor. You tap him on the bum, waiting a few seconds until Seokjin is back to his human form. When the smoke fades, he’s still stuck in his stupor, but you notice the dark red flush creeping up his neck and ears.
“Seokjinnie? Holy shit, are you okay?” You panic slightly, holding a hand up to his forehead and gasping when you feel the sharp rise in his body temperature. He is definitely feverish, and you’re worried that he might have had some allergic reaction to the potion or something. “Shit, are you getting a rash? Sweetie, can you hear me? Say something, please.”
“Y/N,” he rasps, licking his lips. His pupils are undilated to an unnerving degree, and his breathing is ragged. He stands up unsteadily, wobbling in place. “Fuck, I don’t really feel well.” His voice is deep, speaking unusually slower. You shudder involuntarily, fearful and intrigued all at once.
You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Seokjin could seriously be in danger right now! Now is not the time to get horny! “Seokjin, explain how you feel. I’ll try to figure out what antidote I should make in case you actually did accidentally poison yourself with something,” you say hurriedly, going over to your stove and grabbing a spare cauldron from its rack. You’re grabbing random herbs and chucking them into a pot, too preoccupied and worried to hear Seokjin groan behind you.
“I feel… hot. And not in a sexy way,” Seokjin whimpers, curling into himself. There is sweat lining the edge of his brow, despite the house being relatively chilly due to the cold weather. “Okay, maybe a little bit in a sexy way.”
“Well if you can still joke about it, then it shouldn’t be life-threatening, whatever this is,” you say. Seokjin coughs out a laugh, but even that makes him cringe from the discomfort.
You decide to check the potion he had drank and see what ingredients you had used, as it usually will tell you how to make a reverse for it. When you grab the bottle, it only just hits you that the color of the potion is a little off than you remember. If you remember correctly, verbosity potions are usually a pale yellow color, but this one has a darker and deeper tone. In fact, you could see flecks of red sediment floating around, something that you recognize as wyvern blood.
Hold on… Verbosity potions don’t require wyvern blood. Very few potions require it at all, and the only one you can think of that would need it is none other than—
“Oh fucking shit,” you curse for what feels like the twentieth time in this story. You whip your head to face Seokjin, whose entire upper body seems to be bathed in a deep red flush. He’s panting in earnest now, tongue lolling out as he fights the fever consuming him. Little does he know, it isn’t a regular type of fever that he’ll be able to recover with medicine. You gulp, struggling to find an explanation.
“So, umm…” You laugh hesitantly, rubbing the back of your neck with a wry smile. Seokjin peeks up at you from behind his bangs, some of it plastered to his forehead from sweat. The faraway look in his eyes has disappeared, replaced by an unsettling hunger and darkness that is uncharacteristic for the mischievous hamster shifter. You gulp. “Seokjin, I think I know what you drank and it wasn’t the verbosity potion.”
“What?” he croaks, wincing when he adjusts himself to lean on the kitchen counter. You catch sight of a bulge forming in the front of his pajama shorts, miraculously still unnoticed by Seokjin himself. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m burning up.”
The way he utters your name brings a shiver down your spine, and your familiar notices immediately. His gaze is transfixed on the exposed part of your neck, trailing over your skin until his eyes finally land on your lips. You lick them unconsciously, with Seokjin following the movement.
“Seokjin, I need you to get to bed right now. I don’t know how long this potion is going to last, but I’m gonna need you to—”
“What did you do to me?” Seokjin growls, his grip on the counter tightening to the point that he may have cracked the marble. You know he’s strong despite being a prey shifter, but you didn’t think he’d become this powerful and aggravated. You’re guessing that it might be a side effect from him drinking the potion when he was in his hamster form. He had more or less drunk the dosage required for a regular-sized human, so his smaller body size must have led to a slight overdose. This is all guesswork on your part, but hindsight isn’t going to help you right now.
“I, umm… I think I might have accidentally mislabelled the potion,” you admit reluctantly, feeling meek under his heavy presence. You’ve never felt threatened or intimidated by him before, so this is completely uncharted territory for you. You know deep in your heart that he’d never do anything to hurt you even in his inebriated state, but you would still do well to take all your precautions when approaching him. “I think… I might have given Taehyung the wrong potion, too.”
Seokjin doesn’t respond and just keeps watching you as you fidget in place. You continue, “H-he came over today because he wanted a refill, right? W-well, he actually asked for libido potion. And, so—”
“You gave me horny juice? Is that what’s happening?” Seokjin groans, crossing his legs together when he finally registers the very distinct swelling in his underwear. “Fuck,” he moans, involuntarily humping the air to search for some sort of reprieve.
You scoff, trying to keep your tone as level as possible so as not to alarm him. “What do you mean I gave you horny juice? You’re the one who drank it without permission!” you retort, but the scolding dies on your lips when Seokjin starts to grind against the counter, small gasps leaving his mouth. Your throat goes dry, and you know it’ll only be a few more moments before Seokjin’s limited control will start to slip away.
“Y-Y/N, what do I do?” he whines, giving up on the counter and weakly reaching out for you. “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum right now. I-I need you.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you start, your stomach swirling with arousal. His scent is stronger than usual, filling your senses with nothing but caramel, mint, and Seokjin. Even as you’re talking, you feel your resolve chipping away despite your better judgment. “You’re not thinking properly right now, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you—”
“N-no! I want it, no, I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” he pants, taking the two short steps to latch his hands on your waist. You flinch when you feel his large palms touch you, the heat palpable even through your clothes. Even with lust clouding his vision, he is gentle with you, like he’s afraid of hurting you. “I-I know you must think I’m a nuisance, and I’ve done n-nothing but annoy you these past few months, but I… I genuinely care about you a lot, Y/N. W-which is why I was so hurt when I thought you forgot my birthday, but even if you did, I was j-just happy to be living with you. Because I really lo—”
He gasps, unable to finish his thought as he accidentally tightens his grasp on you. He pulls you closer until your bodies are aligned, nuzzling into your neck. His teeth scrape your skin slightly, pulling a loud moan from you. You flush, embarrassed, but you have no time to worry about that when you feel how incredibly hard and solid he is against your stomach.
“P-please, help me? It doesn’t have to mean anything; we can forget about it after but right now, I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow unless I have my cock stuffing your pussy right this very moment,” he says in one breath, his hands reaching behind you to squeeze your ass. He inhales deeply, releasing it with a content sigh. “Fuck, I can already smell how wet you are. I just know my cock will stretch it out real good, just like how I always dreamed.”
“You… you dreamt of me like that?” you whisper, shocked. You don’t know why your brain latches onto that piece of information out of all the filthy things he just said, but you have to admit that the thought of him having wet dreams about you turns you on greatly.
“Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?” He sounds incredulous, like you’d just said something completely unfathomable to him. “Fuck, do you remember when I got my rut two months ago, and I stayed with Namjoon and Yoongi so that you wouldn’t feel awkward around me? They love to tease me about the number of times I moaned your name every time I came,” he admits. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you even if I tried.”
“Fuck, Seokjinnie,” you whine, your fingers scrambling to hang onto his chest, his back, his neck—anywhere, really. Your legs feel like jelly, afraid that you might stumble from how weak you’ve become from your own arousal. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
“I’m sorry I had to confess this way,” he says, caressing your hair with unexpected tenderness. He chuckles quietly, his breath tickling your neck. “But I really mean it, horny juice or not.”
Your heart squeezes inside your chest, not believing your lucky stars for allowing you to meet this wonderful boy in front of you. You can hardly believe your ears; never in your wildest dreams would you ever expect that he would also like you back.
“Seokjin, I also—” you begin, ready to spill your feelings all over the floor, but the moment is broken when Seokjin abruptly lifts you by the ass, his palms squeezing you as he barrels determinedly to his bedroom. You shriek in surprise, clutching onto his neck and holding on for dear life. “What the fuck? Seokjin, put me down!”
“No time for feelings! We can talk after we fuck,” he hoots, bouncing you onto the bed. You grunt from the impact, disoriented by the quick turn of events. Your head is spinning, so you don’t even register Seokjin’s hands peeling off your pants in one smooth motion.
A mixture of the cold air and nerves causes your legs to be littered with goosebumps. Seokjin, ever the attentive familiar, notices and rubs soothing circles all over, the heat inside of you coming back with a vengeance. “Sorry about that, baby,” he coos, massaging you. You shake your head, telling him it’s alright.
You are embarrassed when you feel how your panties stick uncomfortably against your skin, already so painfully aroused as if you had been the one affected by the potion. Your shame melts away when you see how much worse Seokjin is, however, as his nostrils flare with want.
“I’m glad my nose still works, by the way. I don’t know what I’d do if I missed the opportunity to smell your pretty pussy,” he sighs, situating himself in between your legs. He blows gently against your clothed slit, effectively causing all coherency to leave you for the night.
He watches your reactions slyly, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. For once, he looks more like predator than prey. “I know I said I was desperate to fuck you, but do you mind if I start with an appetizer first? I wanted cake today, but turns out my dessert was here all along…” he trails off, smirking when he catches the steadily growing spot on your underwear. “Oh, baby. I know you’re going to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“I-I,” you stutter, shuddering with desire. You whimper pathetically as he traces your panties with a fingernail, your stomach clenching with desire. “I didn’t know you could be like this.”
“Like what?” he hums, pulling your panties off to join your discarded pants. He grins at the sight of your glistening core, wetting his lips in anticipation. “God, you’re so pretty. I could just eat you up.”
“Then why don’t you?” you reply, trying to gain some semblance of control. That silly notion is thrown out the window, however, the moment Seokjin licks a fat stripe up your cunt. “Ngnnhh, fuck!”
Seokjin moans in tandem with you, slurping you up like a starved man. “Baby, you’re just as good as I thought. I could cum from eating you out alone.” He takes a deep breath, kissing your core almost chastely. “Fuck, I know I could cum from this alone,” he amends, rubbing his clothed length against the bed sheets.
The velvety wet heat of his tongue on your dripping pussy makes you clench around nothing, ripping a scream out of you when he focuses directly on your clit. He sucks with an obscene grin on his face, holding your hips down when your entire body begins to tremble.
“So sensitive,” Seokjin says, sluggish and gravelly like he’s drunk on your taste. “So fucking sensitive. How are you real, baby?”
“Jinnie, please,” you whine, doing your best to grind on his tongue despite his iron hold on you. “I want more, please.”
Seokjin only chuckles darkly, continuing his vicious pace. “C’mon, use my tongue like you want,” he says, letting go of you and allowing you to hump his mouth with reckless abandon.
You do as he says, swirling your hips against him with reckless abandon. The heat in your abdomen steadily builds, and you know you’re only seconds away from tipping over. “I’m close, Seokjin,” you huff, chasing your high. “Please, let me cum? Can I cum, Seokjinnie?”
He nods his head, unable to respond verbally as you continue to assault his tongue. After three more licks, you release with a silent scream, writhing violently from the strength of it.
He gives your clit one last sweet peck, sitting up with a feral grin on his face. His chin is dripping with your arousal, his plump lips redder than usual. He makes a show of licking your juices around his mouth, chuckling when all you can do is swallow wantonly.
“Thank you for the meal, baby,” he teases, his lust-riddled gaze slightly clearer now that he’s had a proper taste of you. However, the glaring tent in his shorts is still painfully present, a small darkened patch visible on his crotch.
“Wan’ your cock,” you slur, boneless and blissed out but still filled with the longing for more. “Fill my cunnie until I can’t walk anymore,” you croak, pussy twitching for extra measure. Seokjin’s expression twists, his pupils widening until his eyes are pitch black.
Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time. He rips his shorts off in record time, stripping himself of his shirt as well. You remove your own shirt and bra, causing your nipples to harden from the cold air. You tweak them as you wait for Seokjin to get himself situated, hungrily appreciating his beautiful torso and god-like shoulders. “Don’t use a condom, Jinnie. I want to feel all of you,” you say when he begins to reach inside his dresser. You can physically feel his unhinged desire growing from your words, your pussy dripping in anticipation.
“Gonna fill your pretty pussy, huh? Fill you until you have my babies?” he rasps, positioning his cock in front of you. “Gonna plug you up with my cum, Y/N? Is that what you want?”
You cant your hips upward, whining when his tip only just grazes your lips teasingly. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Want you to ruin me.”
“Who am I to deny you? Ask and you shall receive,” he grins, before slowly pushing inside. Your jaw drops at the intrusion, as it’s been a while since you’ve last gotten fucked like this. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Almost like your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans, straining to keep himself from thrusting all the way into you. “Like you’re made for me.”
“You can m-move faster. I can take it,” you whisper, eyebrows pulling together. You sound desperate to your own ears, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously and making your cunt weep with want.
There is a moment of hesitation on Seokjin’s part, but that all drains away when he sees your determination. Without another warning, he shoves himself up to the hilt, causing you to arch your back with a loud cry.
“Fuck,” he curses, but there is still worry in his eyes. “Baby, are okay? Are you good?”
It takes you a moment to remember how to speak. “C’mon, Seokjin. Move. I can take it,” you beg.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he moans, but nods his head anyway.
Seokjin pulls back until only his tip remains inside you before slamming back harshly, hard enough that you’re sliding backward. He begins his brutal pace, his dick stretching you out nicely like he promised. You let out tiny squeaks with every pump of cock, hitting you perfectly in the spot that makes you see stars.
“Kiss me?” you gasp out in between moans, pulling him by the hair until you’re kissing him sloppily. It’s more teeth than anything, as Seokjin grunts into your mouth with every tug of his roots. You bite his bottom lip after a particularly rough thrust, but it only encourages him to pick up the pace.
You wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as humanly possible. You can already feel your second orgasm approaching rapidly, your toes curling in anticipation.
“Seokjinnie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please, I can’t hold it—”
“I’m close too,” he says hotly in your ear. He sucks a bruise into your neck, moaning when he feels your pussy tighten in response. He drills into your cunt faster, the rhythm of his thrusts growing sloppy as he reaches his own release. He reaches down between the two of you, rubbing circles into your clit. “Fuck, baby. Cum with me?”
You sob his name, your muscles contracting as your body lights up with intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your walls milking Seokjin dry until thick white ropes of cum start leaking in rivulets down your sopping cunt and all over your thighs. You can feel his throbbing length inside you as continuous streams of hot seed keep flowing from him, filling you to the brim.
Seokjin slowly comes to a complete halt, but he still hasn’t pulled out. “I’m gonna keep my cum in you for a moment, okay? Don’t wanna waste any of it, right?”
You can only nod tiredly in agreement, completely tuckered out. Your chest heaves from your laboured breathing, but the smile on your face can only be described as content. “Wow. Color me surprised. Didn’t think you’d wanna be a father so early,” you say hoarsely.
Now sated, Seokjin’s demeanor returns to its normal state, his aura less crazed than before. He has the decency to look embarrassed, but the twinkle in his eyes shows that he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. “I’d be more than happy to be the father of your children. We’re already going to live with each other forever, so I might as well raise your children anyway.”
“Might as well?” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “You make it sound like it’s your obligation. And who said I’d live with you forever?”
“Well, I mean, who else is going to love you the way that I do?” he murmurs, nuzzling your noses together. “Who else would be your annoyingly handsome hamster familiar?”
“Quite,” you grumble, allowing him to maneuver you into a more comfortable cuddling position. You kiss him properly this time, enjoying the sweet, warm pleasure of his affection. You’ve never felt so happy in your life. “Happy birthday, Seokjin. I’m sorry this isn’t the way I planned for it to go, but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Agreed. It’s just like us, huh?” he snorts. He cushions your face against his chest, carding his fingers tenderly through your hair. “Say… Y/N?”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me, what does your pink hair actually mean?”
You chuckle, snuggling deeper into his comforting scent. You feel yourself slipping into slumber, eyelids threatening to fall. You’ve always loved cuddling Seokjin, after all. But most of all...
I love you, of course. “I think you already know, genius.”
Even when the sun finishes its descent from the sky and darkness fills the room, the bright pink of your hair glows—unfaltering.
#networkbangtan#btsguild#bangtanarmynet#bts smut#seokjin smut#jin smut#seokjin x reader#bts x reader#bts reader insert#bts fanfiction#bts scenarios#bts#seokjin scenarios#kim seokjin#bts jin#bangtan#bts fanfic#i feel like i could punch the sun rn LMFAO
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*slamming fists on table* Possessive Geralt in the shifter verse! Please! Maybe with some nibbling? That back of the neck thing really just Activates My Almonds and I'd love to see more. - Bouncey
@bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher Sooo.... this is less nibbling and more biting. 👀 But I already told you this.
Part of my shifter verse but this is pretty much plotless so you don’t need to have read the rest.
CW: 18+, soul-bonds/mating bites, biting to the point of breaking skin, anal fingering, blow jobs, hand jobs
___________
Jaskier nudged their bedroom open with his snout. Geralt had gone up to their room after dinner whilst Jaskier stayed behind to cuddle with Eskel by the large open fire. Geralt was sleeping sprawled out on their bed, furs draped over his bare back, leaving his arse delightfully on display. Jaskier’s tail wagged and he let out a happy bark before springing onto the bed. Geralt groaned and rolled onto his side, golden eyes glaring up at him. Jaskier snorted and then licked at Geralt’s face.
“Fuck off, Jaskier.”
Jaskier whined and nipped at Geralt’s ear. He flopped onto the witcher’s back and rested his snout of Geralt’s head, effectively crushing the witcher under his weight. Geralt huffed but let his head drop back down onto the pillow.
“Needy bastard,” he muttered.
Jaskier yapped, his tail thumping against Geralt’s legs. He licked again at Geralt’s shoulder and buried his nose in Geralt’s neck. He let out a low rumble of contentment, Geralt still smelt like him. It didn’t matter so much in his human form when his senses were weaker but when he had a better sense of smell, he enjoyed knowing that Geralt was so clearly marked as his. He wasn’t sure if the possessiveness was a shifter thing or just him… but he wasn’t going to argue. Geralt was his mate, his lover, his best friend.
He closed his eyes and let his magic loose. Fur melted away to bare skin and he felt the vibration of Geralt’s medallion against his chest. He hummed in contentment and continued his attack on Geralt’s neck, licking and nipping at the pale skin.
“Jask,” Geralt whispered breathlessly.
“Hmm?” Jaskier smirked, winking up at his lover. He was now straddling Geralt’s waist, naked as the day he was born, heat already creeping down his spine and prickling over his skin.
He sucked pretty little bruises into Geralt’s neck, regretting that they would be faded by morning. “Insatiable bastard,” his boyfriend chided.
Jaskier giggled as he rolled his hips forward, dragging his hardening cock against the swell of Geralt’s arse. Geralt let out a low moan and pressed up against Jaskier’s cock before pushing off from the bed and rolling over before Jaskier could protest.
“Oi!” he grumbled as fell back onto his heels, pouting down at his boyfriend.
Geralt smirked, grabbing the oil from the dresser and making quick work of coating his fingers. He pulled Jaskier down for a messy kiss, his clean hand cupping Jaskier’s nape, making him shiver. He was always more sensitive there. He whined into Geralt’s mouth, a mess of tongues and gasps as Geralt’s hand wrapped around the head of his cock.
“Hmm… s’good,”
“Yeah?”
He nodded, pressing his forehead against Geralt’s as his boyfriend stroked him to full hardness. Gods, he would never get used to this, but he wanted more. There was an itch that he’d never quite managed to scratch. They’d made love and fucked in so many ways but something had always been missing, an instinct he’d been scared to act on. He wanted to bite. Not the little love bites and bruises that always littered the witcher’s skin… but something more, and more importantly… he wanted Geralt to bite him, scruff him.
He was just scared. He didn’t want to see the disgust in his lover’s eyes when he made his request. He didn’t want Geralt to see him for the monster he really was. He whined again, writhing under Geralt’s touch. “Fuck, Geralt…”
“Get on your front,” Geralt ordered and reach for the oil again. Jaskier pouted but reluctantly shuffled on the bed, flipping their positions so that Geralt was above him. He closed his eyes as he felt Geralt’s finger press inside his hole, moaning wantonly.
“Hnng…” he spluttered and buried his face in the pillow.
A hand gripped the back of his next and he relaxed under his lover’s touch. It wasn’t a full scruff, but it was enough for Geralt to push a second finger inside him. He whined again. He already felt full, but it wasn’t enough. He pushed back into Geralt’s hand. Geralt chuckled and swatted at his arse, the sting quickly turning to pleasure and he moaned.
“Hurry up, you bastard,” he gasped, rutting helplessly between Geralt’s hand and the furs beneath them.
“Patience, love.”
“No…”
Geralt’s grip on his neck tightened and he melted into the bed, pleasure flooding his senses almost as intense as an orgasm. He was left feeling utterly blissful, he’d never felt anything like it. “Oh fuck….”
Geralt released him quickly as if he’d been burnt and Jaskier panted as he regained control of his limbs. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Do it again,” Jaskier breathed, feeling rather fucked out but still desperate for his release. He rutted against the bed as if to make his point, letting out a wanton moan. “Please, Geralt… bite me, scruff me… fuck,”
Geralt growled and pushed his fingers deeper into Jaskier’s arse, brushing against that sweet spot. He cursed, a litany of swears and Geralt’s name falling off his lips like a prayer, and then Geralt’s lips were on his neck. It started out as a kiss, making Jaskier shudder. He panted and begged for more. Geralt hummed and nipped him gently, simultaneously pressing a third finger inside him.
“Oh cock!” Jaskier panted.
Geralt just laughed, another kiss to Jaskier’s neck. “Not yet.”
“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier panted. He had half a mind to roll them back over and fuck himself on Geralt’s delightfully large cock, but before he could Geralt bit down.
He keened, the pain shooting through him and he once again melted into the bed, a mess of limbs. He babbled wordlessly as Geralt fucked him with his fingers, teeth still latched on to his neck. He completely blacked out, overwhelmed with the sudden burst of pleasure that hit him, knocking him flat.
He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but he couldn’t have been long, Geralt was still nuzzling his neck, fingers trailing down the length of his spine. The bed was a mess underneath him, the furs matted with his cum…
And Geralt hadn’t even touched him.
“Fuck,” he breathed, shivering as Geralt continued to stroke patterns onto his back.
“Hmm, you’re back?” Geralt teased.
“Mhmm…” he hummed and rolled over, narrowly avoiding the mess he’d made. There was a smear of blood on the corner of Geralt’s mouth, but the witcher looked unbearably smug. Jaskier rolled his eyes and pulled Geralt into a kiss, the taste of his blood on his tongue mildly off-putting but he didn’t care. “You enjoyed that too much,” he murmured against Geralt’s lips.
“Hmm… like seeing that you’re mine.”
Jaskier grinned up at Geralt. “Oh yeah?”
“Mhmm.”
Jaskier’s tongue flicked out to lick his lips. Then it was his turn to attack. His teeth sank into Geralt’s neck, earning a long, drawn-out moan from his witcher. Something shifted inside of him, like a dam breaking, and emotions flooded through him. He could feel a pain in his neck shadowing where he was biting Geralt, and his cock ached, desperate for release. He pulled off with a gasp. Geralt was staring back at him wide eyed.
“What was that?”
Jaskier swallowed, wincing as his fingers brushed the bite on the back of his own neck.
“I bit you?”
Geralt shook his head roughly. “Not that.”
“I. I don’t know?” Jaskier stammered, licking at his lips. Geralt’s erection was starting to soften and Jaskier growled, not wanting to leave his mate wanting. “Talk after?” his fingers brushed against Geralt’s nipples and he gasped as the sensation echoed on his own body. He grinned and kissed Geralt’s chest, licking and nipping at Geralt’s nipples, his hands gripping into Geralt’s arse.
His own cock twitched as Geralt filled out once more. He pushed his mate back onto the bed and continued his quest to cover as much of Geralt’s body in kisses. Every scar was caught under his lips, giggling as Geralt’s abs flexed under his lips. “So beautiful, my darling mate.”
He could feel Geralt’s arousal as if it was his own, and oh wasn’t that fun! He had no idea what had happened but… he was rather happy with the results. “Jask,” Geralt gasped as he bit into the sensitive flesh of Geralt’s thighs.
After years together he had a pretty good idea of what his boyfriend enjoyed but this was different. He could feel it. He let the tingles of pleasure guide him as he licked a stripe up Geralt’s cock and then took him into his mouth. He hummed as he worked, sucking and licking at his lover’s cock until Geralt was a panting mess underneath him. Geralt’s hand pulled at his hair and he glanced up to wink at his mate without stopping. He was driven by the desire to please his mate, his lover, his Geralt, he couldn’t stop. His own cock was already hard and leaking, Geralt’s pleasure rippling through his body. He moaned loudly and took himself in hand, stroking himself as Geralt bucked off the bed and came. Jaskier pulled back slightly, swallowing as much as he could. Geralt’s orgasm triggered his own, less intense than before. He gasped, biting down into the soft scarred skin of Geralt’s leg as he came over his hand. Geralt collapsed under him and Jaskier buried his face between his mate’s thighs.
He hummed happily, shifting without thinking into a cat. He stretched out, his tail flicking out behind him and padded up Geralt’s chest. He nuzzled at the bite mark on Geralt’s neck that was already healing, a pink scar forming where the skin had knitted back together. Jaskier nipped gently at the scar, feeling a swell of warmth and love in his chest.
Geralt petted him lazily. “Still need to talk, Jask.”
Jaskier meowed, clawing at Geralt’s chest before flopping down. He wanted a nap first. They could talk later.
_____
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#the witcher#geraskier#geraskier smut#shifter!jaskier#shapeshifter!jaskier#established relationship#does this count for monster march?#possibly#wolfie's witcher writing#Anonymous
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Hi! Saw your post about Sap and Tubbo and I’ve missed their dynamic sm so I wanted to send in a request! How about lee Tubbo and ler Sapnap? Maybe Sapnap wanted to see if Tubbo was just as ticklish as he was back then and uses one of his favorite tactics a bunch, raspberries?
Still the Same
summary: sapnap wants to know if tubbo is still as ticklish as before, in his own sapnap way.
a/n: sorry for the wait :( low motivation bc of personal stuff happening, but im doing a bit better so i wanted to get this out asap! hope u enjoy :D
warnings: swearing, sapnap is Evil (/lh)
w/c: 1.6k
DSMP, Platonic
~
Everyone always says it’s easier to clear your thoughts from a high altitude. Why is that? No one knows, though no one is going to question it either. It’s always nice to enjoy the breeze from up above.
The only problem is, finding that high altitude and then having to climb up to it.
Tubbo closed his home door behind him, glancing around to find some sort of easy-access place he can sit for a while. As the boy walked around, he was quick to notice the gentle breeze that brushed against his cheeks and over his nose.
He sighed, enjoying the perfect weather present on this day, deciding to start walking down the path to town. As he walked, he chuckled as he recognized the spot he was standing at.
The day he and Sapnap had a playful bicker. It involved Tubbo making fun of the demon for miswording something, and a playful fight lasting afterward. The boy chuckled to himself, then his eyes widening.
Thinking about his old friend reminded him of the hill they used to hang out on. The perfect altitude to sit at, might he add. Now walking with intention, Tubbo smiled at the old memories that were unfolding in his brain.
“Here it is, it feels like it’s been years,” Tubbo spoke softly, arriving at the same hill he and Sapnap used to goof off on ages ago. He smiled contently, plopping down on the grass, and leaned against an oak tree that sat on the hill.
He let his head relax back, enjoying the nice breeze brush through his hair and the convenient shade the oak tree provided for him. The people were right, this is a good place to clear some thoughts up.
Meanwhile, a certain demon was also heading somewhere to relax for the day, wanting a break from all the serious ‘bullshit,’ as he would call it. Sapnap looked up at the tree that rested on his favorite hill and saw a figure under it.
He smiled to himself, recognizing a certain ram hybrid settled underneath the shade of the luscious tree. With a mischievous smirk, Sapnap tip-toed up the hill, avoiding any crinkly leaves or twigs along the way, motivated to startle his old friend.
Oh, how much Sapnap missed being so goofy and carefree. It was honestly a natural instinct to playfully mess with Tubbo, almost like how siblings always try to push each other's buttons. It’s safe to say he saw the boy as a little brother.
“Tubbo!” Sapnap squealed, whipping his head around the tree with a giddy smile. “Sap… Sapnap?! Where did you even come from?!” Tubbo gasped, holding his heart dramatically at the sudden scare.
“From down the hill, you goof.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, why’re you smiling then?” Sapnap sniggered, earning an eye roll from the ram. “Because you’re annoying, and it’s making me smile because of how annoying you are.”
The demon snorted a laugh. Tubbo really was the sassy boy he always remembered.
The two settled underneath the tree together, just catching up. They really needed it, it was obvious on both sides that they both missed each other dearly.
They missed the playful bickering and fights they’d have over literally nothing, maybe a piece of bread if anything. Tubbo especially missed the warm feeling he got while around Sapnap. Was it the feeling of coziness inside of him, similar to the feeling of home you get when you’re around someone you’re genuinely fond of- or was it just that Sapnap is warm because he’s a literal fire demon? Probably both.
All was content and nice until Sapnap had to bring up a redacted memory, one Tubbo couldn’t think about without a wild blush spreading across his face.
“Hey Tubs, do you remember the tickle fights we used to have? Well, not exactly fights since you never put anything up- Ow!” Sapnap rubbed his shoulder where the boy flicked him, a grumpy but obviously flustered scowl painted on his face.
“Embarrassed, are we? C’mon, it’s not like you’re still that ticklish anymore!”
The embarrassed squeak that left Tubbo really just made all the dignity he had left drain away.
“...Or are you?” Sapnap continued, his curious glance turning into a dark grin. “Hey there- buddy, friend, mate- you d- don’t gotta… gotta do it… actually I think it’s getting late and I should be getting home!” Nervous giggles poured out of the boy, shuffling backward on the grass.
Sapnap just shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere, Tubbo. Not until I get my answer!~”
Oh shit. A surprised squeal left Tubbo as he was wrestled onto the ground, though the boy was strong as well and fought back. “Oh, actually fighting back, are we?~ Now that’s a change!” Sapnap teased, making Tubbo’s body go limp.
‘Teasing makes him go all jelly, got it.’ Sapnap thought with a snicker, looking down at his friend.
“S- Sapnap… dohoHON’T- SAHAPNAP!” Tubbo barked out a laugh, trying to twist on his side away from the prodding fingers on the right side of his ribcage. “Nuh-uh, you aren’t going anywhere, mister!” Sapnap sniggered as he pushed the boy’s hips on the ground, drilling his thumbs into the bones in the process.
A loud shriek left Tubbo, failing to buck Sapnap off of him. He fell limp against the grass, knowing that he wasn’t gonna get out of the predicament anytime soon. Not that he exactly wanted to, though.
“Remember you can tell me to stop whenever you’d like me to, bud.” The demon’s face softened into a more reassuring look, slowing down his tickles. Tubbo nodded, opening his mouth to speak before being interrupted with another screech.
Sapnap’s fingers found the sides of his lower stomach, massaging his fingers into the soft skin. This seemed to be successful, Sapnap found.
“SAP-HEHEHEHAHA- F- FUHuhuck ohohoff!” He continued to squirm, stomping his hooves in the plush grass behind Sapnap. “D’awww, Tubbo!~ That wasn’t very nice, was it? Maybe I should remind you of my favorite tactic?” Sapnap raised an eyebrow, relishing in the immediate anticipatory high-pitched giggles that emitted from the smaller boy.
“Do you remember? I think you do, champ! I think you remember all the nibbles and raspberries I used to give to your cute lil’ tummy- and oh how bad they tickled!~ Are you excited? I think you areeee, I can hear your tail thumping on the grass!”
Note taken; Sapnap was still as evil as before.
“Y- Yohou’re so mehehean!” Tubbo whined, covering his bright red cheeks, his shirt riding up with his arms raising. “Uh oh, Tubbo… Look what I have here! A perfect snack right in front of me!~” The man cooed, dragging his dull claws over the ram’s belly before leaning down and blowing a big raspberry right beneath his belly button.
“SHIHIHIHIT! N- NOHOT THAHAT!” Tubbo shrieked, arching his back up. “Not this? Alright, your wish is my command, champ! Guess I have no choice but to do this instead…” He chuckled slowly before beginning to gently nibble on Tubbo’s lower belly, moving up the side to nibble near his waist.
Fuck Sapnap and his stupid stubble, and his even dumber fangs.
“SAAAAHAP- NONONONOHOHOHO!” Tubbo pleaded, weakly pushing at Sapnap’s head, but the damn thing didn’t budge even a centimeter. “No? Okay!~” He giggled, going back to plant another raspberry over the side of his belly.
Arching his back again, the ram dug his hooves in the grass to try to ease the sensations at least a little bit, but the ticklish stubble dragging around his tummy kept making him go limp. “F- FUHUCK YOHOU- Y- YOHOU’RE SO BAAAHAD!” Tubbo retaliated, yet again trying to twist away but his hips were only pushed back down onto the grass.
“I think you need a little manners lesson, don’tcha think, Tubso?~ N’awww, don’t pout at me, you know I’ll just have to do… this…” Sapnap huffed in a breath, Tubbo squealing in anticipation, but then silence.
Tubbo relaxed his muscles as the raspberry didn’t happen- never mind. It happened.
“FUHUHUCK- PLEEEHEHEHEASE!” Tubbo’s body went completely jelly, the tickling too much for him to fight back anymore. Sapnap looked up, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You were so bold a few seconds ago, what happened? Hmmm?~ Cat got your tongue, Tubbo? Let’s fix that.” He chuckled, wrapping his arms around Tubbo's waist so he couldn't buck away from his attack.
Raspberry after raspberry, Tubbo knew he couldn’t handle it anymore. “STOHOHAHAHAP! E- ENOHOUGH!” His voice was squeaky and tickled-out, taking deep breaths as he laid down completely limp on the soft grass.
“You alright there, Tubso?”
“Mahahaybe…”
“Here, let me help.” Sapnap smiled, but it was softer this time- way different than the evil grins he was giving while tickling the life out of the poor boy. The demon laid the ram across his lap, gently carding his fingers through his plush hair.
“C- can yohou… keep gohoing? But- gehentle this t- tihime?” Tubbo stuttered out, Sapnap audibly cooing at the sweet boy. “Of course, it would be my pleasure- seeing how evil I was earlier.” He jested, earning an exaggerated noise of agreement from Tubbo.
He snickered, tracing his dull claws in random shapes over the boy’s belly, letting them graze up and down his sides and back down to circle around his hips. The affectionate light tickles were making the tickled-out boy sleepy, as he curled up in the warm demon’s lap and softly snored as sleep swept over him.
“Sleep well, bud. I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ve missed you, y’know that?”
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may i ask what is was about save the cat that got you like that? its ok if you dont want to answer this
I'm gonna ramble under the cut cause yeah. And I am putting this disclaimer on first also cause yeah
DISCLAIMER: if this shows up in the main tags not my fault! Its tumblr's! I tag correctly so those I want to see can see it and followers can blacklist my post! If you have a problem, blacklist my tags or block me! If you start shit I will block you!
Anyway truthfully I don't know what got me. It just did. I related to Adora, a lot. Like she is probably one of my top 3 characters I relate to so she is very important to me, esp as an abuse victim who always puts too much on their shoulders and feels like they have to make up for everything wrong. Now, up to this point in s/pop, we saw the following things done to Adora from C@tra:
-C@tra going out of her way in the battle of brightmoon, clawing her back, blaming her--telling her "[C@tra] can't wait to see the looks on [Adora's] friend's faces when they find out [Adora] failed them, they [Adora] was too weak to save them."
-C@tra being like "duh the horde always has been evil" like Adora just finding this out and being in shock and c@tra is like no shit sherlock. And oh tasing her
-leaving her to die and cutting off her only support when in the temple
-hell that whole promise they made it wasn't adora who broke it (who n*elle and the fandom seem to like to blame) it was c@tra since Adora asked many times for her to come with her but C@tra REFUSED
(these all above are just season 1)
-In white out c@tra more or less drugged adora and was HAPPY at the thought of having control over her and making her attack and hurt/kill her friends
-The whole portal shit in s3, esp the "i rather see the whole world end then let you win" plus right before she said "you always have to go and ruin it, don't you" to adora. If memory serves me correctly, and based on this line, c@tra once again new something was wrong but didn't tell adora so she could have her. And just the first like with the world ending sounds a lot like "if i can't have you no one can" which is one of the BIGGEST FUCKIN RED FLAGS in an abusive relationship.
-The shit c@tra said in the last ep also
-Sending DT to fuck with Adora and Glimmer's relationship. She did that on purpose.
-If memory serves me right again, c@tra told Prime about Adora being on the way to save Glimmer
so can you see why maybe I got triggered? Adora and c@tra did not have a good relationship.So seeing Adora, someone i relate to a lot, all of a sudden being like "OH NO C@TRA I LOVE YOU AND I NEVER GAVE UP ON YOU" is utter bullshit. (not to mention with the i never gave up on you, i know she said something along those lines im pretty sure, did you see the look she gave her at the end of s3? That was the look of "get the fuck out of my life i am done with you" and in s4 there was nothing between them? did they even interact past that one ep were c@tra tried to kill Adora?
I have a lot more i can rant about with the rest of s5 (like the i have always loved you. Like no????? Trying to kill someone, drugging them, and fucking with their other relationships (like that fuckin FLASHBACK IN CORRIDORS GOD THAT IS THE WORSE FUCKIN SCENE(s) IN ALL OF S/POP) is not love, it's ABUSE! but yeaaaaaahhhhhhh. Save the cat is one of the worse eps because it goes against everything we saw and allows for an abusive relationship to be canon
And i say this all as a queer sapphic and someone who has dealt with abuse
#anon#kaestions#spop critical#do i tag this as anti you know what cause that will show in the tags but GOD#discourse#salt#saltkae#anti catgirl and blonde#lmao ill use that for now#i dont want stannies on my post
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Prompt 33 just screams protective nishimura so could you write that please and thankyou 🌸
PROMPTS LIST
33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?”
“Yes.”
“What if I just break his nose a little?”
i got several requests for this one, specifically with nishimura (and a few, even more specifically, with nishinatsu). you guys really know my brand 😌🌼
x
Kitamoto warned him, but Tanuma was still unprepared.
He's got one arm looped around Natsume's shoulders, something that happened almost entirely involuntarily, and the other is clutching Nyanko-sensei against his chest because the cat's ears are lying back and his claws are pricking through Tanuma's sleeve in an alarming way.
This leaves no hands free to corral Nishimura, and Tanuma thinks he's going to need about three more to do that anyway.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nishimura is raging, too loud, attracting eyes from all directions. "Who the-- who do you-- who are you? The prime minister? Is this your private property? Do you own this park?"
The unfamiliar boy they bumped into is nearly a head taller than Nishimura but he seems almost cowed by him-- appropriately so, Tanuma thinks fairly, because if he were on the receiving end of this tirade, in a public space, he probably would have started crying by now. An honest assessment.
"I'm asking who you are," Nishimura all but shouts, when the boy in front of him takes more than one second to respond. "What is your name? Do you have an identity?"
"I'm-- my name is Yoshida. I know the fr-- the guy behind you. We were classmates. That's all."
"Oh, is that all," Nishimura says. It's clearly not all.
Yoshida's eyes flick past Nishimura, just for a second, but it's enough to make Natsume twitch. Tanuma doesn't miss it, since Natsume is still tucked snugly beneath his arm. Nishimura doesn't miss it either, because Nishimura is in this heightened state of pissed off that Tanuma has never witnessed before.
He snaps his fingers, says, "What's wrong with you? Don't you know it's rude not to look at someone when they're talking to you?"
It's amazing he doesn't choke on that piece of hypocrisy.
"So you used to know Natsume or whatever, and somehow, in your mind, that translates to... literally attacking him out of nowhere?"
"Nishimura," Natsume says. It's the tone of someone burdened with an impossible task, like stopping a runaway train before it crashes with nothing but his bare hands and hopeful intentions. "He didn't attack me."
Nishimura whirls around and points at him (rudely). "You be quiet! He attacked you!"
"He pushed me. I fell down. That's not an attack."
"That's literally assault! That's-- " He pats at his pockets, clearly looking for the cellphone that he shoved into Tanuma's bag two hours ago, after it died taking roughly one million pictures of the cat at the train station. "Tanuma, Google the Penal Code!"
"I'm not going to do that," Tanuma says gently.
Kitamoto did warn him. He wanted to stay home with his dad this weekend, and urged them to go visit Yuuki without him, but the second the others were distracted, he snagged Tanuma by the sleeve and drew him aside.
"I won't be there, so if something happens, it's up to you," he said. His tone was so serious and grave that for a second Tanuma thought they were talking about the yokai situation and he had absolutely no idea how to process that. And then Kitamoto added, "Nishimura tends to go off the rails a bit when someone's mean to one of his friends. I mean, you've seen it. I just really don't want my best friend getting arrested for disturbing the peace while I'm not around."
So, that was a warning. Looking back, Tanuma should have taken it to heart.
Nishimura is Tanuma's smallest friend, an inch or so shorter than Taki now, but only in stature. If he were as big as all his caring, he would tower over cities. He's right now shouting down someone much larger than he is, without an ounce of sense or self-preservation.
This is the same boy who steals out of Natsume's bento at lunch, and makes faces behind Tsuji's back when he's lecturing them about passing notes during class, and gets into heated arguments with Isamu over the TV Guide literally every time they have a sleepover at Taki's house.
And it's the same boy who taught Natsume how to swim, one sunny August day almost two years ago now, at the river because Natsume was afraid to go into the pool. The same boy who has coaxed Tanuma through more than one panic attack, his hands a familiar shape around Tanuma's own at this point.
His caring is loud, Tanuma thinks. Even when it's quiet.
A few passersby have stopped, lingering nearby like they're going to get involved, and clearly it's making Yoshida feel outnumbered. The fight went out of him about three seconds after Nishimura started yelling in the first place, so all the rest of it has maybe been a bit overkill.
"So, is he just going to keep going? Like, until he runs out of breath?" Yoshida's friend asks.
She's been standing quietly to one side this entire time. Her face had folded with disapproval when Yoshida initially pushed Natsume down, but no one had a second to get a word in edgewise before Nishimura exploded about it, and now she simply looks as though this is the best punishment for her friend that she could have hoped for.
"Um, probably," Natsume says. He's unfamiliar with her, but she smiles at him.
"I only transferred here last year," she says. "And I don't listen to gossip. And anyway, with friends like these, those rumors about you couldn't possibly be true."
Her whole demeanor is calm and self-assured. She reminds Tanuma of Tsuji, and similarly, Natsume's guard seems to relent. He smiles back at her.
This leaves Tanuma free to step away without feeling as though he's abandoning him. With Nyanko-sensei in the crook of his arm, he reaches out and draws Nishimura back by the hood of his jacket, the way he's seen Taki and Kitamoto do one hundred times a day since they were fourteen.
Nishimura squawks in outrage, and struggles against Tanuma's grip, but... well, he's little. And Tanuma has been back in karate for the past year, give or take, so his core strength is fairly solid. It only takes a small amount of effort to reel Nishimura back and tuck him under his arm.
This is better. He feels his heart start to settle. Right here, Nishimura can't fly off the handle any more than he already has, and Tanuma can keep him from getting hurt.
“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” Nishimura seethes.
“Yes,” Natsume says quickly.
“What if I just break his nose a little?”
“Satchan,” Tanuma tries, and that, at least, gets Nishimura to stew quietly for a moment instead. “You’ve made your point. I’m sure Yashido is sorry.”
"He is very sorry," Yoshida's friend says peacefully. "He'll be especially sorry once I tell his mom that her only son acted like a stupid bully. Let's go, Hiroo, before you get beat up."
She bows politely, and then carts Yoshida away. Yoshida, if anything, looks relieved to have an out, and retreats without so much as a backwards glance.
"Ugh," Nishimura says. He isn't even winded. "Ugh! Just wait till I tell Kitamoto about that creep! He'll wish he'd been here!"
Kitamoto, who is basically a modern-day prophet, will definitely wish he had been here, though not for the same reasons Nishimura seems to be thinking of. Tanuma needs to reevaluate a lot of the conversations they've had in the past. How many times has Kitamoto said something like "they almost called the cops on us" totally offhand and actually meant it?
"You're insane," Natsume says the second they're alone again. There's a mark on his cheek from where he hit the ground that will be a bruise tomorrow. When their friends see that, they'll all be quick to side with Nishimura over this, so it's important that they get as much scolding in now as possible. "I don't want you picking fights like that, okay? What if it had gone differently, and he'd hit you or something?"
"Good," Nishimura says hotly. "Then our faces would match."
This remark disarms Natsume completely, and his expression turns warm and affectionate. Nyanko-sensei makes a noise that is almost a laugh. His eyes are slitted in something like approval. Kitamoto's warning of "it's up to you" rings loudly in Tanuma's ears. Okay.
He gives Nishimura a gentle shake with the arm still curled around his shoulders, and stands firm when Nishimura looks up at him.
Or, well. Almost stands firm. He does try. He'll tell Kitamoto he tried.
"Come to karate with me next week," he says. "If you're going to pick fights with people twice your size, at least be able to back it up."
Nishimura's face lights up. If he hadn’t been there to see it for himself, Tanuma never would have guessed what he'd been doing one minute ago. This is the boy who dozes off on Natsume’s shoulder during long train rides, who complains about Nyanko-sensei stealing his food but still slips him treats beneath the table anyway, who is delighted just by the idea of spending extra time with Tanuma after school.
"Definitely! No take-backs!" he announces, thrilled. "Just wait till I tell Acchan!"
Natsume gives Tanuma a sympathetic look. Tanuma decides then and there that the next time Kitamoto stays home, he's staying home, too.
#natsume yuujinchou#natsuyuu#tanuma kaname#nishimura satoru#natsume takashi#my writing#prompt#anonymous#natsuyuu fic#owl i blame you for making me obsessed with tanuma + karate#this one was fun ! bless everyone who requests nishi content from me#EDIT BECAUSE I SOMEHOW LEFT OUT THE DIALOGUE FROM THE ACTUAL PROMPT DGDJGHSDGSGJHSJ#everyone pretend that didnt happen ok thank u
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anonymous asked :
Hii! I love your writing so much 🥰 I was wondering if you could write something for Brahms Mikey Jesse & Thomas (and maybe poly!ghostface if you feel like?) when their pacifist soft s/o who they never kill in front of kisses their hands after they kill to protect her? I need some fluff in my life . Thank you!!
brahms
you knew brahms was a complicated man . prone to kindness , clinging to you constantly , begging for attention . prone to tantrums , destroying everything in his path , making the walls shake with his fury . prone to love , petting your hair , your face , whispering desperate words of affection . you never wanted to admit it , unable to think too long about how brahms was also very prone to violence . you were lucky , you’d heard of what happened in the heelshire manner before moving in . about a man being slaughtered , a nanny attacked and chased around like cat and mouse with the cat having an unfair advantage . you knew there were murders reported when people broke in . you knew brahms was capable . but you wer lucky . you never experienced it first hand .
the man must have been drunk . must have thought no one lived in the house despite the fact you put effort into making it look lived in . he must have been confused . that’s what you wanted to think when you heard the kitchen door be busted in . you made a mistake of not running to hide . no , you went to see what happened . it seemed you were just as unexpected as the intruder was , because he paused before taking after you like a bat out of hell , yelling and waving a wrench in his hand . you’d screamed , and brahms had nearly fallen as he clamored through the walls to seek you out .
brahms wasted no time in coming out of the walls , taking in the scene of some grimy intruder about to bring a wrench down on your prone form . he saw red . chest heaving and blood thundering in his ears as he ripped the wrench out of the man’s hands and used it to beat against the man’s skull . the intruder tried to put up a fight , he even tried reaching out to you for help , but you were too wide eyed , watching as brahms violently ended this man’s life for breaking into his home , for hurting his significant other . there was no mercy . and when brahms was sure that the man had breathed his last , he looked to you . and you saw no remorse in his eyes for the kill .
the adrenaline coursing through him had him forgetting your distaste for gore and violence . he just needed to know you were okay . he thought you might flinch , might cry . but instead you took his outstretched hands and bought them to your face . kissing over his knuckles as tears finally fell . brahms pulled you into a tight embrace , hushing you as you spilled out your thank yous , i love yous , i was so scared . he’d dispose of the mess later . right now you needed him . and he needed you .
michael
michael has never killed in front of you . there’s never been a reason to . you’re always at home , at work , at school , somewhere he isn’t when he’s destroying and ending lives . the most you see is a bloody knife in your kitchen and filthy clothes in the hamper . you don’t like it , hating to think about those who lost their life to michael’s blood lust . you know you’re lucky to have never seen it . to only deal with the smallest of traces of the destruction he leaves .
it’s a nice evening for a walk . work was running late , and so you stayed extra . and after such a long shift , you were excited to get home and hopefully find michael sitting on the couch . maybe he’d tolerate you leaning on him as you forget the stresses of the day . you don’t notice you’re being followed . maybe it’s due to you being lost in your own little world . maybe it’s due to the fact you’ve gotten used to the feeling of being watched by micahel that it just slips your mind completely . but you do feel the head of a gun shove into your back as a hand wraps around your mouth .
there’s a demand that you give up your money or else . the gun digging in your back painfully as gloved hands squeeze your jaw hard . another demand , a near desperate shout for your any and everything in your bag . and then you feel the man press against you , a weak strained noise leaving him , something thick and warm dripping down the back of your neck and over your shoulders . the weight of the man get’s heavy , and then he falls to the side , gargling on his own blood , twitching and wide eyed as he stairs at the sky .
you turn so fast you almost fall , taking a few steps back only to meet michael’s gaze . a kitchen knife in his hand , wet and dripping crimson . he watches you for a moment . daring you to run . and you do , but not away from him , to him . he lets you wrap your arms around him chest , sobbing as you cling to him . michael allows the contact until you even your breathing . you want to stay and cling to him , fingers in a white knuckle grip on his jumpsuit . you just saw him kill and yet you still stay . because you love him . because despite everything , you know at least some small part of him might love you to .
jesse
he has enemies . he knows this . he’s rich and powerful and a murderer . he’s bound to have a few outside forces trying to come down on him . jesse had never thought , however , that this enemy would come from within . preston was a wanna be . he’d been trying to frame himself as the new , better chromeskull . he’d been added to jesse’s shit list the moment the man found out , making the other rush off into hiding and prepare for the inevitable . and preston … preston thought he was smart . thought he could make jesse suffer . he thought he could take you away from him . preston had never been so wrong .
he’d taken you . taken you with threats to torture you . the fury inside of jesse was untamed . preston thought he was so smart , but jesse was smarter . he found the little hide away without any difficulty . always sloppy and so easy to track . preston was pathetic . and jesse would be doing the world a fucking favor by ending his life .
he’d never wanted to drag you into this world . he wanted you free from it . but here you were , tapped to a chair , tears streaming down your face . preston was smug as he watched you , not noticing the gleam of chrome behind him . not realizing that jesse was here , close . he didn’t notice until jesse squatted down and cut through his Achilles tendon in one deep slash . the larger man was quick to disarm preston , using the knife he’d been holding to stab through his hand with so much force it settled into the floor . jesse hand’t wanted you to see this side of him . but it open for you . jesse’s heart set on one thing and one thing only . dismembering and torturing this betrayer of trust and kidnapper of his love . it slow and agonizing , and you had to close your eyes and look away , unable to take the scene . but when the screaming stopped you looked back , seeing the way jesse’s broad shoulders shook and his head titled back .
you made a noise , and it drew his attention . he was on you in and instant . cutting you free and tugging at tap , even if it hurt , he wanted it off of you . before he could sign anything you were tugging him in , pushing his chrome mask off his face and kissing him , asking if he was okay , telling him how worried you were about him . he couldn’t help but bring you in close , bloodstained , gloved hands ridding up your shirt . you’d seen him at his truest , and yet you worried for him instead of yourself . he couldn’t ever let you go now .
thomas
the meat had got out . high on adrenaline and fear , the girl had somehow used her bloody wrists to wiggle out of her restraints . thomas has roared with fury when he saw her missing . grabbing his chainsaw as he quickly stomped upstairs . he needed to find and end them before they had a chance to retaliate against his family .
he was panting , looking for blood trails to lead him in the right direction when he heard you scream . his heart stopped for half a second as fear and rage flooded him . they had you . they would hurt you , take you away . he couldn’t lose you . he could’t .
the woman was clawing at you , sobbing as she dug her jagged nails into your skin , you tried to crawl away , tried to push her off , panic flooding you . soon her begs became screeches of betrayal as she realized you were one of those monsters who had killed her friends . her hands balled into fists and she raised them , bringing them down on you were she could . she didn’t get more than two hits in before tommy brought the chainsaw down on her , tearing into her back and through her spine , splattering the both of you in blood .
thomas kicked away the corpse , dropping the chainsaw as he looked down at you . fear in his eyes as he panted . he wanted to reach out , to hold you . but how could he ? you saw him kill . you would think he was a monster . and he deserved it for not tying the meat up tighter . for not just killing the meat right off the bat .
you can only look up at thomas , trying to calm your breathing .the fear and self hate in his eyes . the utter loneliness … you’re shaky on your feet , walking towards him . taking his hands in yours and kissing over his palms . he can’t help the sob that falls from his lips as he presses his forehead to your shoulder . and you can’t help that you press his hands over your heart , showing him you’re okay . it’s okay . every things okay .
billy & stu
the boys are possessive and protective . they don’t like when people try to step in on their territory . it’s not you they don’t trust . it’s them . and there is only so much they can take before they snap . so it’s no surprise that they do . they don’t have their gear . but they do have a pick pocketed pocket knife and rage , and that will just have to do the trick . they don’t have time plan , they only have time to act . because that drunken bastard hasn’t left you alone all night , and he decided it would be find to just fucking grab at you despite you telling him to stop .
they gang up on you , putting themselves between you and the drunken bitch fuck who was trying to grind on you . they don’t want you to see , one of them backing you up , while the other all but guts the bastard in a swift motion , careful not to get blood on them . it happens so fast , the screaming , the boys acting shocked , the sudden need to rush outside , to leave the bar and sneak away . stu blocks you from view , billy leading the three of you to a gas station . with and outdoor bathroom .
they shove you in , billy washing the blood off his hands and trying to clean out the sink the best he can . stu trying to keep you from looking , but it’s too late . you can put it all together . and you’re wide eyed as you look between your boys . the looks in there eyes show you that there is a secret they’ve been hiding . something dark , something they’re scared of you finding out . and as you watch their faces everything falls into place .
this isn’t how they wanted you to find out . they didn’t want you to find out . even if they both knew that with time you would . and here in a shitty public bathroom their secret became exposed . they wait for your response . teetering on the edge of fear and rejection . when you take their hands in your own . raising them to your cheeks and give them that soft smile , they feel relieved . and you’re next words , accepting and concerned for them have them both laughing and pulling you in for kisses . just stay safe , for me .
#brahms heelshire#brahms heelshire imagine#brahms heelshire x reader#michael myers#michael myers imagine#michael myers x reader#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt imagine#thomas hewitt x reader#jesse cromeans#jesse cromeans imagine#jesse cromeans x reader#billy loomis#billy loomis imagine#billy loomis x reader#stu macher#stu macher imagine#stu macher x reader#slasher#slashers#slasher imagine#slashers imagine#slasher x reader#slashers x reader
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