#resisting the urge to draw cat ears

[vasyas-tie-clip]

Day 374 Feygin livestream

[bby-deerling]

ilu and ur writing!!!! 🥰🥰🥰 can you give me a vibe check on hmmmmm.....sanji + choking him with his tie + riding him in a confined space 🤔

merry christmas >:3 sorry this took so long :p

pipe down (sanji x afab!fem!reader nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 815, masterlist

cw: riding, femdom, choking sanji w his tie, slapping (sanji receiving), semi-public sex (in a closet), biting, sanji is whiny and wont shut up, orgasm denial

“Feels so good, princess.  I love it when you ride me—” Sanji whines, head thrown back against the wooden wall of the supply closet as you grind your hips against him.  His babbling is cut off by a swift yank on his tie, breath hitching as you tighten it around his throat.

“Shut the fuck up, Sanji!  We’re gonna get caught.” you hiss quietly through gritted teeth, the pace of your hips never faltering.  Beads of sweat trickle down both of your foreheads; his bangs are plastered to his face as he watches the curve of your hips intently, pupils blown out with lust.  Hand still pulling the looped end of his tie taut against his throat, you feel his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, desperately trying to choke back a moan.  The way he struggled to resist his urges to whine and whimper for you only turned you on more, causing hot blood to pool in your cheeks as you ride him.

Jolts of electricity spread through your spine as he thrusts his long, skinny cock up, unable to keep himself from rutting into you as you grind your clit onto his stomach.  The grooves of your teeth imprint harshly into your bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as you try and fail to keep yourself from letting out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan.  Soft, slender fingers brush across your cheek, as he admires you with his lips curling into a cat-like smirk.

“Looks like you’re the one having trouble staying quiet now.” Sanji whispers in your ear teasingly, sending shivers and shockwaves racing through your body.  A harsh slap reverberates along the walls of the closet; he barely reacts to the smack of your hand across his cheek, continuing to smile at you reverently.

“How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?” you growl, pulling his lips towards yours with his tie, soft, silky satin slipping through your fingers.

“Might have to remind me a few more times.” he chokes out, words held back by the fabric around his throat.  “Can’t help the way I crave you, dear.”

The heated kiss you give him is full of tongue and spit and passion as you continue to grind your hips into him.  A warm, red flush creeps across the apples of your cheeks; the way his soft, velvety lips drag against yours only heightens your desire.  Breaking the kiss to gasp for air only leaves you starved and wanting as you both greedily inhale the remnants of oxygen in the stale, humid air in the closet.

“Close, princess?” he murmurs as the way you roll your hips against him becomes feverish and erratic.  A quiet, content hum escapes your lips in response, mind too preoccupied with the electricity running hot through your veins as your clit drags along his abs.  Needy and desperate to reach your high, your movements are harsh as you grind harder against him, digging your nails into his back, his shirt dampened by a thin layer of sweat across his milky white flesh.  Rolling slowly through you in the way that water runs down your body during a hot shower, you feel your orgasm in your face first, face burning red and mind dizzy; you’re unable to help the way your body twitches as waves of pleasure run through the rest of your body, walls fluttering around him.  Sanji can’t help but whimper as you milk his cock, desperately clinging to you and praising you in breathy moans.

“Maybe I should just leave you here, since you can’t seem to keep quiet…” you tease as you come to your senses, leaving harsh nips along his pale neck, running over each one with a swipe of your tongue to soothe the pain.

“I’ll be good dear, I promise…” he whines, voice barely above a whisper as he begs you to stay and give him permission to reach his high.  His ocean eyes are wide, wet, and pleading, and his grip on your hips is desperate, fingers digging into your plush flesh.

“One peep out of you and I’m done.” you whisper, dragging your thumb across his lip—you hope he knows you’re deadly serious about stopping if he can’t control himself.  He nods and buries his face into your neck as he thrusts up into you, licking and kissing at any free skin he can reach as he swallows down the sounds climbing up the column of his throat.

Despite his resolve, he’ll break soon, helpless to the urge to babble and dirty talk, he always does.  And when it happens, you’ll have no qualms about leaving him high and dry until the opportunity for a bit more privacy arises; you just hope he won’t whine too much this time when he ends up reaping the consequences of his whiny mouth.

[tasteleeknow]

good kitty

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 2.5k

summary: you join minho for a session in your home gym.

afab!reader. pet names. frequent profanity. possessiveness. unprotected intercourse [grinding, spit kink, messy.]

“Keep your wrist straight,” he says again, demonstrating a firm punch into the boxing bag. “If it’s bent you could hurt yourself.” 

“I know, I know. It’s hard,” you whine. He turns to you, holding his palms up in front of him. 

“Go on,” he urges, encouraging you to try hitting him. You look down at your fist, checking if your thumb is positioned properly, then you hit him. He smiles. “Harder.” You hit him again. “Don’t hold back,” he says. You reposition your legs, preparing to put your weight into it this time. “Good,” he says. “Turn your body as you swing and don’t pull your arm back behind you.” 

You swing, the sound of your skin contacting his palm much louder this time. He drops his hand, shaking it out a little—a big grin revealing his teeth. “That’s it,” he says, taking a quick step towards you and lifting you into his arms. You giggle as your feet lift off the ground, totally at his mercy as he carries you across the small makeshift gym he’d set up in the spare room. He presses your back against the floor length mirror, hands moving to hold you up by your thighs—his chest against yours. 

“Is your hand okay?” you whisper, brushing a little of his hair behind his ear. 

He smiles, nose scrunching a little. “I’ll live. Thank you for asking,” he says, squeezing your thigh a little. “Would you like to help me? Need to get in a few sit ups before we quit.” 

You nod, unable to resist pecking the tip of his nose quickly as he lowers you to the ground. You follow him to the thick mat on the floor, pressing your hands to his slippers to ground him as he begins. He starts with a small smile on his face each time he sits up, every 5 or so he’d even press a kiss to your lips. When he stops smiling all together, brows furrowed in concentration, you know he’s wearing out. He’d always end his workout by doing something like sit ups to exhaustion. He liked feeling like he’d done his absolute best. Your eyes drop to his thighs as he grunts, starting to struggle. His bent knees cause his black shorts to fall closer to his crotch, more of his thick thighs exposed. 

When he falls back against the mat, totally spent, you lift your hands from his slippers and lower your head between his legs—pressing a firm kiss to his inner thigh. His panting breaths are the only sounds in the room for the next few minutes as you continue your task, his skin a little salty from sweat. 

His hand brushing against your hair finally pulls your attention to his face. “C’mere,” he mumbles, dropping his head back to the mat. You push his knees apart a little further so you can crawl up his body, laying yourself down against him. 

He hums then pushes his thighs against your sides, holding you tightly. You know you’re trapped now, happily so. “What are you so sweet for? Hm?” he murmurs, lifting your head from his chest and pushing the hair from your face. “Makes me want to ruin you.” 

You laugh, tracing your finger over his brow bone. “So tough… how are you going to ruin me after wearing yourself out, kitty cat?” you tease, the nickname always successfully stirring him up. He frowns, then lifts his legs off the mat completely, wrapping them around you. 

“I could do a three hour workout and still throw you around,” he says, voice raised slightly. You grin, successful at drawing out a hint of his dramatics. You peck his lips, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth hinting at a withheld smile.

“Really, kitty? I think you’re exhausted,” you tease. “It doesn’t matter though. I can still use you.” 

You watch him struggle to keep his curiosity at bay, mouth opening and closing a few times as he resists asking the question he eventually can’t hold back. “Use me?” 

“Mm… use your pretty body to make myself feel good. You could just lie there under me,” you say, running your fingers down his nose and over his plush lips. His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, thighs loosening their grip around you. You lower your lips to his, halting just before they touch—ghosting over his mouth as you drop your voice to a whisper. “Can I use you, kitty?” 

He lifts his head off the mat, pressing his mouth firmly to yours before you can pull back. His thighs tighten around you when you attempt to pull away, arms joining them in trapping you against him. You indulge him for a moment, letting him take what he needs from you, pulling your bottom lip between his. When he attempts to roll you over, you stop him. “Answer me,” you say, reminding him of your request. His eyes are fixed on your lips as he nods. Satisfied, you attempt to sit up. He doesn’t loosen the grip his thighs have on you. “Min,” you sigh, “Let go.”

He pouts, legs dropping flat against the mat as he releases you. He props himself up on his elbows as you stand, watching you. “Do you know what I’m going to do first?” you ask, pulling your t-shirt up over your head. He doesn’t answer, eyes fixed on the mirror behind you as you bend to lower your shorts. You want to laugh, but his expression as he watches your ass in the mirror isn’t something you want to lose just yet. His lips are slightly parted, teeth peaking through as his hand absentmindedly moves to adjust himself in his shorts. 

His eyes snap back to yours when you call his name. “Hm?” he asks, as if he’s just been asked a question in class and been caught completely zoned out. You smile, lowering yourself over one of his thighs—your underwear the only thing separating your skin. His eyes drop to your chest. 

“Take it off,” he says. 

“Why?” you ask, acting dumb. It was fun to make him work for it. 

He attempts to sit up properly and you push him back down. A gentle press to his chest is all it takes. “So I can see your tits, obviously,” he mumbles. You cup your breasts in your palms, the thin lacy thing covering them something you’d had to settle for after failing to find your sports bra. 

“Why do you want to see them?” 

He rolls his eyes, dropping his head back to the mat—a low groan rumbling from his throat. “Tell me or you can’t see them,” you say, smiling to yourself while his eyes are closed. 

He lifts himself back onto his elbows. “Because they’re fucking mine,” he grumbles. 

“Oh, are they?” 

“You know they are. Mine to fuck, mine to suck on whenever I fucking want.” 

“You’re right, kitty, that was our deal.” You smile, taking one of his hands and pulling him up—placing his palm over one of your breasts. “These are yours,” you confirm. When he squeezes you in his palm, a satisfied expression on his face, you roll your hips—your clothed cunt sliding up his bare thigh. “and these thighs are mine,” you continue. You place your hand at the back of his neck, giving you the leverage you need to move your hips against him. “Mine to kiss…. Mine to fuck,” you finish before pulling his mouth to yours. One of his hands moves to your lower back, helping you rock against him as he kisses you. 

He reaches behind you to unhook your bra, pulling it off you as you’re distracted by his lips. You don’t stop rolling your hips, the friction of the cotton adding to the stimulation—working you up embarrassingly fast. You have to drop your face to his shoulder as your high approaches and his hands move to your hips so he can grind you against his thigh himself. 

“Come on, baby. Let go,” he encourages sweetly. “Get yourself all wet for me, hm? Cream on my fucking thigh.” 

When you come you instinctively attempt to lift your sensitive cunt off him, your muscles seizing as you grab handfuls of his t-shirt. He doesn’t let you, holding you down against him firmly—drawing out your high until your limp against him, one final twitch signalling your end. He pulls your hair over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your neck and then lowering you onto the mat. You’re completely limp as he pulls your underwear down your legs. His finger swiping through your sensitive folds draws a whine from your throat. 

“You done already?” he taunts, playing with you. “You’re all slippery, baby.” 

You suck in a deep breath, gathering your strength before pulling yourself up onto your elbows. He’s kneeling between your legs and you look up just in time to see him slip his index finger between his lips, cleaning you off him. 

“Min?” 

He looks down at you, then smiles—pushing himself up his feet. You watch as he undresses, your heart racing as he reveals a little more of himself. When the silver band on his ring finger is the only thing remaining on his body, he drops down onto the mat. 

“There,” he says, “now you can use me properly.” He smiles, pulling you up towards him and turning you so he can take your place—lowering himself back onto the mat. You hover over him, one of your knees on either side of his thick thigh. You’re almost scared to lower yourself onto him again, a steady throbbing between your legs hinting at your sensitivity. He’s quiet as you gather yourself, one of his thumbs stroking slowly over your skin where he holds your hand. 

You hold your breath as you lower yourself, closing your eyes tightly as your wet cunt presses to his thigh. “Fuck,” he mutters, hand tightening in yours. “Hot little cunt.” 

You roll your hips tentatively, eyes dropping to where he strokes his cock slowly—thumb brushing over his tip occasionally to spread his precum down the head. It was your second favourite part of his body, if you had to pick. Thick and curved up just a little, the perfect tool to fuck you with—his thighs allowing him to drill it into you wherever you wanted him. This room was one of your favourites. He’d taken you up against the mirror the day before, thighs flexing as he fucked up into you. 

You halt your movements against him, your thoughts pushing you dangerously close to the edge. Not yet, you tell yourself—sucking in a deep breath. He attempts to keep his thighs flexed as you use him, warm and firm for you to grind against. It’s not just the feeling of him under you that gets you so worked up, it’s the thoughts that flash through your mind. It’s the previous time’s he’s fucked you, but it’s also the time’s he’s sickly sweet. The contrast of him under you like this, grinding your dripping cunt against him, compared to the times where he’d sweetly whispered how much he loved you—ears tinged red. It’s the thought of him shy and sweet that makes you nearly lose control. 

He looks up at you with hooded eyes, plush upper lip swollen from your kisses. “God, kitty…” you breathe out, hips rolling again. “You’re so pretty.” His brows pull together, hips rising off the mat a little as his hand pauses around his cock. You can’t help laughing at the pained expression on his face. 

You lift off his thigh, take his hand from his cock and move it to your bare breast. His tongue comes out to trace over his lip as you adjust yourself over his torso, reaching down to press his cock against his stomach so you can give it the same treatment you gave his thighs. “Bab—” he starts, cutting himself off as your dripping cunt presses to his cock. His hand moves from your breast to tangle in his hair, fingers closing to grasp a handful. You watch him tug at his own scalp as you move slowly up to his tip, the length of him gliding easily through your slippery folds. 

“You said I could use you, kitty,” you remind him, voice breathy. “Want to use your fat cock. Please?” you ask sweetly. 

He pulls his hand from his hair, gripping your hips at either side. “Yeah, baby,” he breathes. “Use my cock. Grind your little pussy on it.” 

You lift one of his hands to your lips, kissing his knuckles softly. “Good, kitty,” you whisper, dropping him again so you can plant your palms on his chest. 

His eyes make a path between where your cunt rocks against him and your eyes, trailing up and down your body as he sucks in shallow breaths. You’re trying to decide whether you want to let go, cum against him once more, when he catches you off guard—sitting up and flipping you onto your back. You don’t fight him, letting him take his turn. 

“Gotta have you,” he mutters, rubbing his tip through your folds. 

When he lowers himself over you, thick cock stretching you open, you roll your head to the side—catching the way his thighs flex as he pushes into you. You whine, reaching up to take ahold of him—keeping him against you. That’s all the energy you expend, letting the rest of your body lie relaxed under him as he uses you. 

“Filthy little thing,” he mutters, “rubbing your little pussy all over me, huh?” He grunts with each thrust, turning your head so he can hover his mouth over yours. You know what’s coming. You knew every part of him, could read the signs. Sometimes he fucked you slowly, whispering declarations of love in your ear, and sometimes he fucked you like this: messy and filthy. 

He doesn’t last as long as he normally did, his thighs slapping against you as he thrusts turn frantic. His lips press to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth. When he pulls back a little you’re prepared for what he says next. His fingers press across your lips, pulling them apart messily. “Open.” 

You part them, letting your tongue slip out over your bottom lip—ready to receive him. He spits, thumb brushing over your lips when you close your mouth and swallow. “Fucking mine,” he groans, his hips stuttering into you as he floods your cunt. You keep your eyes fixed on his face as he draws it out, taking in the sight of him. 

“Good kitty,” you purr, brushing a few sweaty strands of hair off his forehead.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

[marcusakito]

Lyney Cat Hybrid Boyfriend HCs (Sfw and Nsfw)

I blame my friend for inspiring me to write this. But I still had fun thinking about it, so was it really that bad?

Lyney x Fem!Reader

CW: Minors DNI, Slight Yandere (Just to be safe I'll add that), Biting(?), Rough Sex, Breeding, Penetration, and technically a monster cock.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

SFW:

I really wanna believe Lyney is a cat hybrid like his sister Lynette. Perhaps he takes a special suppressant that makes his cat features less prominent.

His ears would be small enough to be completely flush in his hair, and his tail small enough to hide in his clothes. The only thing visible in his cat trait would be his eyes. The glow in the dark, and see just as well in the dark too.

Why would he do that? Having one cat on stage makes it special, unique, don't you think having two makes it less so?

Of course like most medicine, I doubt taking the suppressant constantly would be healthy. He has a few days where he doesn't take them.

So imagine your surprise when his cat ears spring up, and being in casual clothes, his tail moves freely around.

Yes, he'll allow you to touch them. But only if you promise to be gentle.

If you pet his head and scratch his ears, he'll be snuggling up against you and purring. Same goes for when you sleep together.

What a clingy cat. But that's what makes him adorable, no?

If he purrs, he definitely hisses. He's learned to surpress that since he was young, but if he gets jealous towards someone... Well now, he can't help it at that point.

He'd have the urge to scratch their face off, but he resists doing that. That would be rather... Unbecoming of his charismatic self. Besides, he has other possible ways of handling things.

That is, to show outwardly open affection to you. Prove to that person you're his.

Just like any other cat, Lyney's stomach is a sensitive spot. Very, very ticklish and he doesn't mind if you wanna tickle him, he trusts you! Just don't tickle him out of surprise when you're outside, he might accidentally scratch you.

He'll be sure to give a thousand apologies for it though. And maybe a rose or two.

NSFW:

MASSIVE BREEDING KINK.

He can't help himself, it's his primal instincts taking over when you two have intercourse.

His cock is a little thinner than average, 6", bulbous and red tip, and extremely sensitive. His dick has rough, rounded barbs around the base of his shaft.

Those barbs rubs against your walls and clit just right. It was an unexpected pleasure for the both of you, since they were sensitive for Lyney, and it makes him cum pretty easily even without much stimulation.

He retracts his claws (His nails) so they won't hurt you when he plunges them into your hole to finger you. But he'd use them to sensually graze his nails softly too.

His favourite position is doggystyle (Or rather, catstyle?) And prone bone, but he wouldn't mind other positions. He just knows that particular one makes him certain you'll be properly bred.

He'll either hold you by your hips or pin your hands above your head, with his chest pressed against your back. He'll praise you for doing so well, how well you'll take his seed, and for the beautiful bump for when you bear his children.

The thought of you pregnant just riles him up and turns him on.

He's got naturally high libido, but oh boy, good luck during his heat cycle.

He'll be clingy, snuggling against you constantly that you'll have to shove him off. That doesn't stop him, though.

And once you're home, well...

He'll be thrusting into you roughly, overstimulating you over and over again to cum inside you without a moment of rest.

And if you try to get away and act up? He's not above biting you at the back of your neck.

It's his cat instincts needing you to stay longer. Even after you've had what, 5 orgasms and a ton of his load in you?

He'll realize what he did and make up for it later by drawing you a bath or patching it up.

Mandatory snuggles after sex. No exception.

And he'll be keeping his dick inside of you all night. You don't mind cockwarming, do you? He's just making sure not to waste a single drop of his semen inside you.

Hope you don't mind not walking for a while. Don't worry, Lyney's taking care of you well throughtout the mating season.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Hope you enjoyed my hcs! I was thinking of writing more monster(?) Human headcanons, not limited to animal hybrids. It's just fun to think of the possibilities.

If you have any concerns or suggestions, feel free to give a comment or ask!

[thechaosdomain]

Prompt: Potion

Word count: 683

Pairing/character(s): steddie

“Steve? You ready?” Eddie shouts into the house as he pushes the door open without knocking.

“Yeah I’ll be down in a second.” Steve shouts back from upstairs, Eddie wanders through his living whilst he’s waiting picking up random items, a few rocks that he’s pretty sure he gave Steve and a few interesting looking plants that have been left laying around he assumes they’re harmless if they’ve just been left out where anyone could get to them. He wanders into the small cluttered kitchen there’s nothing interesting lying around in here except for an old looking book that’s open on a page that Eddies sure is very interesting if you have any idea what it says but he doesn’t do he flips through a few more pages before glancing at his watch. His eyes land on the cup of what Eddie thinks is tea that’s beside it, picking it up completely unsurprised to find that it's still warm. Steve's notorious for making drinks and never actually finishing any of them, oh well his loss, Eddie thinks before taking a sip from the cup. As the warm liquid hits his tongue it’s butter taste fills his mouth making his face scrunch up as he sticks his tongue in disgust. Why would anyone drink this?

“Ed’s” Steve calls from the living room

“In here.” Eddie answers, placing the cup back where he’d found it as Steve enters the room.

“That tastes awful.” He tells the other man

“You drank it?” Steve asks a confused frown falling across his face.

“Yeah.” Eddie shrugs

“Why would you drink it?”

“It was in a cup-” he says like it’s the most obvious answer in the world “-Who puts anything but drinks in a cup?”

“Me.” Steve answers

“Well then you can only blame yourself for this.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest.

“Wh-“ a hiccup interrupts the metalheads sentence as he tries to ask what he’d drank, another hiccup forces its way out immediately but this time his firm shifts getting smaller until in Eddie's place is a moth.

“Huh” Steve frowns “it’s not meant to do that.” He comments his attention shifting away from Eddie and back to the book on the kitchen table, flipping back to the page he’d been reading earlier, he looks over it trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Another hiccup followed by an annoyed meow draws Steve’s attention back to the current problem. A small snort escapes before Steve can suppress it, Eddie is managing to look very annoyed whilst also being the fluffiest cat Steve has ever seen.

Another hiccup turns the metalhead into a floppy eared rabbit crouching down in front of him Steve can’t resist scratching the top of his little head, his fur is so soft.

“What did we learn?” Steve asks, receiving an annoyed foot stomp in response he continues.

“That’s right, don’t drink random liquids if we don’t know what they are even if they are in a cup.”

Another hiccup turns Eddie into a rather large dog that makes Steve very glad he’d resisted the urge to pick him up.

“Don’t worry it’ll wear off in a couple of hours.” He reassures Eddie as he stands back up scratching behind one of his pricked ears earning a small puff of air from Eddie that he’s sure is meant to show his irritation at the whole situation but his tail thumping against the kitchen floor undermines him.

After a few minutes of Eddie hiccuping and changing form Steve decides to head back into his living room flopping down onto his old coach and flipping on the tv preparing to stay in tonight as it looks like their previous plans would have to be put on hold for now. A parrot flies into the room settling on the back of the couch and Steve can’t resist saying.

“You know you’ve only yourself to blame for this.” Laughing as Eddie pecks at him a few times before another hiccup turns him into a bee, it’s going to be a long interesting night Steve thinks.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Little Things #3 | Ghost x Agent!Freader

AN: I didn't forget about them, I promise.

Tags: All fluff, just agent reader taking care of Simon because it's what he deserves, the mask is off

"You're being a baby, just lay down," You urged. He'd been complaining about his back all day but in true Simon fashion refused to do anything to fix it. You'd finally had enough and tossed a pillow down on the floor before demanding he get on his stomach. "I promise I won't hurt you

"You know how scared I am of you," he chuckled as he got onto the floor. He let his head flop onto the pillow before stretching out his arms and legs. You straddled his lower back and started scratching his scalp. Always resistant to letting you take care of him but he always ended up melting in your hands.

"Just try to relax okay?" You gave him a quick peck behind his ear. He was tense you were afraid he'd snap like a rubber band. You did your best to massage out any knots as you found them. He'd groan into the pillow as you dug your fingers into the meat of his muscles. You smiled to yourself as you saw his shoulders become loose under your touch.

He was capable of relaxing and feeling safe but it had to be coaxed out like a feral cat. You went under his shirt. He was always cold and arched himself against your warm hands. He even moaned when you started to leverage your weight to crack his spine.

You ended with light scratches and tickles, dragging your fingers up and down and drawing little pictures.

He was asleep. Snoring softly. You were careful getting up, not wanting to disturb him. You took the softest blanket from your bed and laid it over him. He wouldn't sleep long but if you ordered takeaway now it would arrive by the time he got up. You turned the light off in your room and gently shut the door.

I haven't written about these two in a hot minute. I missed them. Might do something in Simon's POV where he realizes he does actually really like her and might want to be something more.

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

skyrim prompts: 25 for the oc of your choice :]

25. Tracking animals on the plains of Whiterun

They shrunk into the amber grass, forcing their pale, thick furred tail to lay still, resisting the urge to swish it side to side. Dark brown tufted ears perked, listening for any signs of trouble, should there come any. The white diamonds that marked their ears glowed from the sunlight. Hunger knawed at their belly. Dah’ni hadn’t eaten all day, having forgotten to stock up from Carlotta’s food stall in the Whiterun market before heading out, and the sight of a plump deer was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Despite wearing armor of the Dark Brotherhood to aid in their sneaking, Dah’ni was careful in their muffled steps. Creeping closer, their whiskers brushing against a breeze told them that they were downwind. The khajiit stalked their prey, which grazed on the tall grass, unaware of its pursuer.

Dah’ni reached for their bow, and as soon as they had a firm grip on it, they vanished. It was a lucky find, this bow that could turn its wielder invisible. Taking a dwarven arrow from its quiver, the golden head vanished alongside Dah’ni as they drew back their bow.

With a held breath, Dah’ni loosed the arrow. It struck into the flank of the deer, startling it. It bellowed out a painful cry before turning tail and sprinting off.

Putting their bow away, Dah’ni reappeared before giving chase. The stag stumbled as its hooves crashed into a rock face, and it slipped onto its side, driving the arrow deeper into its flesh. With their prey downed, Dah’ni quickly ran up to it, giving it a quick death with a slice of its throat using an ebony dagger.

Before the khajiit had time to rapture in their spoils, low rumbling sounded from just behind a lone hill. Tail bristling, Dah’ni whipped around as three wolves erupted from the underbrush. They hissed and drew themself tall, intent on defending their kill.

If Dah’ni took out their bow, them disappearing would bait the wolves to their kill, which the cat did not want. However, if they drew out their ebony war axe, it would be a close quarters fight with wild animals that could carry all sorts of diseases, and Dah’ni had no potions to spare. Drawing back their lips into a snarl, they hit upon a better idea.

Dah’ni took in a breath, their mind full of concentration. Time seemed to slow as they let their dragon blood flow through them. “Fus… Ro Dah!” A thundering yowl burst from their mouth, a buffeting wind sent two wolves flying.

Dah’ni blinked. Where had the third gone? They gripped their bow tightly, vanishing in case the wolf decided to leap out and clamp its jaws around them. “Laas… Yah..!” Looking around, Dah’ni found a glowing red aura in the shape of a quadruped as it tugged at the felled deer. Drawing their bow, Dah’ni quickly took it out with one shot.

As they approached the deer and now dead wolf, they could smell rockjoint in the beast’s saliva. As well, a mangled bite mark told Dah’ni that the wolf had managed to get a blow in on the deer. It wasn’t worth the risk carving up the meat now, and the khajiit hissed in annoyance.

Stomach growling, Dah’ni looked to the sky, seeing the sun sinking over the orange horizon. Twitching their tail as hunger gripped their thoughts, they wondered if they could make it back to Whiterun in time to ask Hulda at The Bannered Mare for some venison stew.

[kny-agere]

This one wasn’t a request,,, I just think these two would get along and wanted to write something about them :D

Cg!Mitsuri & Little!Zenitsu

★彡☆彡★彡

Zenitsu felt terrified without Tanjiro by his side. He felt terrified even with him most times. The only exception was when Zenitsu was regressed which was the exact problem now. He tried to stop himself from slipping but each scared thought only pushed him down further which inspired another flurry of panic.

The boy was quick to barricade himself in his room, alongside tucking himself under the blankets. He resisted the urge to put his thumb in his mouth. If he could just sleep this off everything would be fine. Tanjiro would be back in a few days and they could play then.

But that promise wasn’t enough. Zenitsu wanted to play now, or at least cuddle. And while he clutched his pillow it wasn’t the same. It took barely two seconds for tears to build up in his eyes. Maybe he’d be able to sleep after a good cry. That wasn’t any comfort now.

Zenitsu tried to keep his tears quiet. Shinobu was somewhere in the building and while she knew about his regression (in fact she taught him most things about it) Zenitsu didn’t like bothering her. The boy also feared he’d receive a lecture rather than any hugs and soft words. So he resorted to choked off sobs and whimpering into his hands. It wasn’t a very good strategy but nothing would stop his tears.

“Are you ok?” A voice from the doorway started Zenitsu into jerking sharply. He still didn’t uncover his eyes, hoping instead the owner of the voice would simply disappear.

Even through loud sobs the blonde could hear someone approaching him. His ears tuned into the soft noises, trying to warn him.

“You poor thing! How come you’re here all alone.” A warm hand lands on Zenitsu’s shoulder. It’s light enough that he isn’t too startled.

It takes a little while but eventually he calms enough to turn around. His eyes are puffy and red. Without clear vision the boy was still disoriented but with a few quick blinks he could vaguely see the figure beside him.

“My names Mitsuri! Do you think we can talk a little?” She’s the most beautiful woman Zenitsu has ever seen (second to Nezuko of course). Normally he’d be quick to declare him love or launch himself at her but now all he can do is whimper and freeze in place.

The woman keeps talking (“I like your hair! It’s so colorful.”) but everything is hard to process. The young slayer is still trying to decide if he should cry more or let the newcomer stay. He holds his breath and listens to her sound.

There’s a twinkling noise, like wind-chimes. Underneath the soft sounds of flutes and guitar rise and fall. When he bothers to focus on the song it’s very soothing.

Mitsuri sits softly at the edge of the bed. She extends a hand like she’s trying to lure a stray cat. Eventually it lures him in. Zenitsu, still crying, shuffles close enough that his hair barely brushes against her fingers.

Immediately the woman buries her hand in his golden locks. She draws patterns against his scalp. It’s enough to get his tears to die down to the soft occasional grumble.

Once he’s softened the hashira pulls him up. With her strength it’s easy to hold him against her chest. “Hi again baby. Are we doing better now?” She lightly bounces him.

“I miss Tanjiro,” he finally mumbles. He thinks the two might know each other. Tanjiro knows about half the corps by name.

“Does he usually take care of you?”

“Yea.”

“Well is it ok if I watch you while he’s gone?”

Zenitsu considers the offer for a moment. It’s strange to have a girl actually want to be around him. Mitsuri has been nothing but kind which almost makes him more hesitant. “Just until he gets back,” he eventually concedes.

“Yay! Let’s go get you cleaned up.” She brushes some hair out of his eyes. Mitsuri easily balances the boy on her hip. Her sleeve wipes away some of the snot and tears covering Zenitsu’s face but the woman carries him to the bathroom and promises some proper care.

[ifidiedinadream]

I have Aleksi request. Going to dinner with him and having him tease you whole time with remote control vibrator.

hello anon sorry i kept you waiting so long!!

hope you'll like my little twist to your request 👀

Your grip on Aleksi’s thigh under the table tightens. 

He increased the vibration just slightly and it’s still not enough for you to get off, but it’s getting more and more difficult to keep a straight face. 

Of course he had to try out your new toy (remote control vibrating panties) in public. Of course it had to be during dinner with all of your friends. 

Fuck. 

You straighten in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek hard. You glance over at Aleksi next to you, trying to get some sympathy from him (the way it’s too much but not enough at the same time) but he isn’t paying attention to you, engaging in a conversation with Joonas sitting across from him instead. You tighten your hand around his leg even more. 

“What is it, baby?” he asks innocently, loud enough to draw the attention of the guys sitting closer to you. You can’t answer with Joonas, Joel, and Olli all looking at you. 

You shake your head slightly, squirming in your seat. You resist the urge to cling to Aleksi’s arm. 

“You okay?” Olli asks, concern woven in his words. 

You fear opening your mouth would result in a very inappropriate moan, so you just nod at Olli and try to smile. 

“What, baby? Cat got your tongue?” Aleksi asks and sets the vibration to even higher. You close your eyes shut as heat spreads all over your face. 

“I think she might be feeling unwell,” Joonas remarks. 

Thankfully your food comes before you have to answer that. You manage a faint smile to the waitress. 

Everyone starts eating, but you’re everything but hungry at the moment. You glance at Aleksi again, who’s cutting his steak without a care in the world, and huff in frustration. You rest your head on his shoulder, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Baby, please,” you whisper in his ear, head turned so you don’t face your friends. 

“Please what,” but Aleksi doesn’t care if the others hear. 

“I can no longer be discreet.” 

“You haven’t been discreet ever since we started,” he says with a smug smile. Then he makes you look at him and lowers his voice. “I think Joel figured out what’s going on and is having some sort of crisis about it.” 

Before you can turn to examine Joel’s state, Aleksi increases the vibration suddenly, causing you to lose control and moan once. You bring your fist to your mouth, shutting yourself up, feeling the embarrassment crawling from your heart to your face. Olli has dropped the fork and Joel is indeed watching you, mouth agape and a blush adorning his cheeks and nose. You can’t help but smile cheekily at him. Aleksi doesn’t miss it. 

“You like being watched, don’t you? I could make you come right here at this table and you’d fucking thank me,” Aleksi says in your ear, so low only you can hear, even with the others’ gaze on you. It makes your eyes roll back. 

“Aleksi, please, stop,” you say, wanting nothing more than for him to keep doing this, but you know that, if he does, you’ll actually end up with a public orgasm like in that Harry and Sally movie. 

“Why should I? You look so pretty like this, all desperate and needy fighting your moans back… you’re too cute when you struggle and I believe I’m not the only one who thinks so.” 

Reflexively, you turn to look at Joel. His right hand has disappeared under the table and his eyes never leave your figure. You lick your lips at him, thinking that you wouldn’t hate it if he, or anyone else at this table really, would just bend you over the table and fuck you right here and now - since Aleksi doesn’t seem to get the hint that you need him oh so much. 

As if on cue, Aleksi’s hand snakes under the table and between your legs, which you spread wide open. He sets the panties aside under your skirt, careful not to remove the vibrator from your clit, and fingers at your hole, likely to see if you’re wet enough for his liking. 

You roll your hips upwards to try and engulf his finger, have him inside you, but it backfires: it only causes more friction against the vibrator in your panties and you barely stifle a groan. 

“Stop or you’ll have the entire restaurant looking at you,” Aleksi whispers. 

“Baby, please, I need to come but I can’t like this,” you beg, so desperate you don’t even care if your words aren’t as quiet anymore. “I need you.” 

This seems to move something inside him for he doesn’t answer right away; he clenches his jaw instead, taking a deep breath. 

You barely notice Joel having left the table when Aleksi takes your hand. 

*** 

Joel is breathless when he gets to the bathroom stall. He sighs in relief when he frees himself from the fabric of his underwear. 

He doesn’t know what’s gotten to you and Aleksi today, why you thought it was a good idea to put on such a show right in front of him. 

Joel wonders if you sitting right opposite him was deliberate - if his crush on you is this obvious. 

He shakes his head - there are more urgent things to tend to now. Spitting in his hand, he wraps it around his hard cock, pretending it was your mouth instead. 

He tries to envision you: your teary eyes looking up at him, your hair in his fist, your lips stretched around him. It’s gonna be over soon, he tells himself; he throws his head back against the dirty wall, trying to keep his moans quiet. 

His hand suddenly stops when a loud thud (the slam of the door to the stall right next to his) and a feminine giggle resound throughout the room. 

Oh no. 

This can’t be. 

A deep, low groan drowns out your voice for a moment, and then you’re moaning in sync with the creaking of the wooden door. 

Even if it’s Aleksi’s name the one you’re breathing out, it takes Joel an embarrassingly short time to come all over his fist.        

[xxatlasxx]

Lololo resisting the urge to just draw a bunch of cat ears on jeffys photos

[bloustorm]

Please DC fandom hear my prayers

I just really like the idea of one of these usual Character A got turned into an animal and B takes care of them

And it's Tim and Damian, and Damian is of course hissy about having to take care of him (or perhaps he actually doesn't have to and is hissy about Tim being so stupid) and he knows this animal (in my mind it's a cat) is Tim and yet he still can't resist it and cuddles with him

Even worse if like either Tim is actually fully aware, aware with some urges, or a normal animal but they are pretty sure he will remember.

And just like the bonding of that, and the fallout if after

Damian having gotten used to his presence and Tim as well, patting his hair without a thought, going to take a nap with him perhaps while he draws etc.

Just them bonding over this and slowly starting to see each other in a different light.

(snippet under cut)

Damian frowned down at the cat. 

The cat who was Drake merely blinked up at him with his huge blue eyes.

Drake had of course gotten himself foolishly turned into an animal by being once again carelessly incompetent and was now stealing all the attention and time from Father and Alfred, who were busy enough already, as they fussed over him, trying to figure out how to turn him back and figure out how much he understood.

Even Grayson had found time to drop by and coo over him.

Grayson who had told him just a few hours ago that he wouldn't be able to make it back and hang out with him. No Damian wasn't hurt by that, that would be foolish, of course he knew that the older man had responsibilities besides his own.

(But it hurt that he could drop them so fast to just come check up on Drake when he already knew the fool was fine.)

-

Damian had patted him without thinking, Drake had been taking a nap in the sun and Damian had patted the cat (his brother) before even really thinking about it. 

Now these eyes stared up at him, still fogged up with sleep and Drake let out a little merp at him, something the older boy would never have done if he was awake he was sure of that. 

Stepping a little closer hesitantly he let his fingers run softly over the head and ears, only starting to relax when the boy closed his eyes and relaxed back into the beam and into his hands. 

-

It became quite common to find Tim cuddled close to Damian, out of all of his siblings Damian was one of the nicer ones to be around as a cat, he respected any and all boundaries of him (and wow had tim known he just needed to turn into a cat to gain some privacy he would have perhaps done that before) and spent a lot of time silently drawing in various spots. It didn’t hurt that the kid usually ran pretty warm as well, perfect to take a nap too.

-

Damian knew that even now with Drake turned back things wouldn’t and couldn’t return to normal like they were before, they had spent far to much time together with each other for that.

So it didn’t come really as a surprise when he pet a sun napping Drakes hair (and the boy had started to take many more naps in the sun, likely influenced by his time spent as a cat). 

What did come as a surprise was that Drake had dragged him to cuddle before Damian even realised what happened. 

Or the time when Damian had been drawing and Drake had dared to plop his head into Damians lap like he was allowed to do that, like it was perfectly normal for the older boy to use him as a pillow. 

And yet, Damian could not bring himself to complain too much, or kick the other away.

[plantboiart]

AUGH HELLOOO I saw your animals post and wanted to share my own hcs for them (I have made up fursonas for them in my head)

I haven't finished most of prime defenders so my opinion can be discarded /lh

Will- skunk !!! The patterns could be styled for a skull and he could wrap himself in the tail/ppl generally seem to stay away from skunks (his whole nobody can see him ability)

Vincent- Fennec fox :33 I like the big ol ears for em (not my idea initially asked for some help in a server)

Dakota - little lion guy

Haven't met ashe enough yet to decide </3

You're bitb ones are honestly very good I had some old art of them as Rolan-Stoat, Kian- Lop bunny and Rand-possum but I very love the pigeon idea you have

FOR APOTHEOSIS <333 I thought about this so hard Elena is SO gazelle to me . I love mouse Peter (I orginally made em just a lizard) and Thanatos gave me Bull vibes :333

I haven't actually thought about the suckening to much I'm to busy drawing them as ponies 😭 they are very cat tho (probably comes with being a vampire /lh) off the top of my head tho ! Cat for Arthur something hot headed like a badger for emizel and I know they're like twins or something but purely off vibes Shiloh is so deer to me

I haven't actually watched much of any riptide so I don't have any strong thoughts on em

ANYWAYYYYT I LOVE YOUR ANIMALS FOR THEM ROLAN IS SOOOOOO SHARK ACTUALLY ‼️‼️‼️‼️And mouse Peter !!!!! So good ^^ !!!!

Aaaaaaa I love these all so much!! badger Emizel is so true i accept this as fact and I love the thought of Kian as just a lil lop bunny him being some kind of rabbit or bunny or whatever makes perfect sense!! I am now resisting the urge to draw fursonas for all the pcs lol (I’m designing fakemon inspired by them so like I guess that’s close enough)

[vatnalilja]

Lamli x Female Reader

« Older · Newer »

You find Lamli asleep in your bedroom, half-dressed.

1600 words, 325 of which are smutty. Mostly fluff.

You open your bedroom door and peek inside. Having finished your obligations back home, you somehow managed to return to the mansion when everyone was out on business or otherwise busy. Even Lono had been absent from the kitchen.

Your room is quiet, and the late afternoon sun streams through your large windows. After closing the door behind you, you tip-toe to your bed, expecting to find Mu curled up in its center. You've only made it a few paces when you freeze, discovering that instead of a small, round black cat, you have a shirtless Lamli sprawled out on your duvet. His black hair is damp and flared in a wild mess around his calm, sleeping face. His nimble arms are cast haphazardly, and one of his legs is draped over the edge of the bed.

You know precisely what happened: he took a bath, then came to your room before fully dressing. His shirt and coat are piled on a nearby armchair, since forgotten. The butlers all shared rooms, and he had a habit of sneaking to your room to be alone when you weren't around, to avoid his work and to will you back to the mansion. And rather than finish dressing, he crawled onto your bed after deciding a nap was in order.

It's almost a shame to wake him.

Yet, the temptation of being close to him was too strong to ignore. You gently sit on the bed and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. He stirs slightly at the motion, and you lean closer, brushing your fingertips against his forehead.

As your fingertips glide over his lips, his chartreuse eyes flutter open and he looks up at you. Reaching up, he takes your hand and entwines his fingers with yours, his eyes still full of sleep. Your cheeks flush at having been caught as Lamli's lips curl into a smile. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss against your knuckles.

"You're back," he mumbles, still too drowsy to exhibit his usual enthusiasm.

"You didn't dry your hair before you fell asleep," you say.

His eyes widen, and he clutches your hand as he remembers the state in which he curled up for a nap. You chuckle and shake your head, combing the fingers of your other hand through his hair, parting the pink strands from the wavy dark ones. His panic evaporates once he sees your calm attitude, and his expression rapidly changes from relief to something more impish, his own cheeks turning pink.

"Nac would be so mad if he knew about this," Lamli says.

"It'd be another lecture," you say.

"But there's no reason he needs to know. Right?" he asks.

"Who's telling him? I'm not," you say.

"My l-lord," he stammers. "Lie here with me for a little longer, please."

You can't bring yourself to deny him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks at you as if you are the only other person in the world.  You smile, placing your hand against his cheek, and you both sink into the soft bedding. Lamli wraps his arm around you, drawing you closer to his chest. You settle against him, and he takes a deep breath as he holds you, as if breathing might ruin the fantasy he's somehow found himself in.

You forget about the worries and responsibilities of your everyday life. For now, there is only Lamli, his warmth, and the peaceful beat of his heart. He smells like the garden, like freshly cut grass and lavender carried on a summer breeze.

Slowly, he moves his face closer to yours again and brushes his lips against your cheek. You feel the heat of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and you can't resist the urge to lean into him further. His lips meet yours in a slow, sweet kiss that grows more passionate with each passing second. He murmurs breathlessly into the kiss, fumbling but undeterred by his lack of experience. The blankets rustle beneath you as your bodies shift, and you fall deeper into each other.

When the kiss finally breaks, Lamli rests his forehead against yours and stares into your eyes, the flush in his cheeks growing deeper. He runs his fingers through your hair, then trails them along your cheek and down your neck. You know he wants more but doesn't know how to proceed.

"I love you so much," he whispers.

In the year you've known him, he's professed his love for you hundreds of times, and he'll do it a thousand times more. But you've never told him how you feel. Of course, you love him, but the barrier between you--your relationship as lord and servant--has made it difficult to be forthright. You can't bring yourself to say the words. Every time you try, you hesitate and find a less resolute alternative.

"C-can I use your name while we're like this?" he asks.

"Yes, of course," you say.

His mouth meets yours once more, almost desperately. He parts your lips with his own, silently begging you to open up to him. His hands explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips as your tongue finds his. Everywhere he touches you sparks a warmth that spreads throughout your body, melting away your inhibitions.

He pulls back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours as he looks into your eyes with an expression of vulnerability. You know he's unsure but willing to take this chance to be close to you in a way he never thought possible. He squeaks quietly when you grip his narrow waist and draw his weight on top of you, then buries his face in your neck, where he mumbles your name.

You feel his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against your stomach. His lips are on your earlobe as his hands push your shirt up inch by inch until you can feel his skin against yours. He pauses and sits up, looking into your eyes as if to ask permission. You give him a small nod, and he continues until he peels your shirt over your head. His brow furrows as he stares at your bra, noting the clasps in the front--they're much smaller and finer than anything Flure uses on his pieces.

He grips the center of your bra and works the small clasps until they're undone, then hesitates as he frees your breasts from their garment. His eyes glimmer at the sight of you half-undressed beneath him, and he takes another deep breath. He releases it slowly as he rests his hands on the sides of your chest, just beneath your underarms.

"Can I touch you?" he asks.

"As much as you like," you say.

He grazes his fingertips along the tops of your nipples, and they raise to his touch as he traces their outlines. His hands shake ever so slightly as he continues to explore, growing bolder as you mewl in pleasure. With more confidence, he cups your breasts in his hands, squeezing them gently. Unable to resist, he leans down and kisses you again as he caresses you.

His hands wander lower until he reaches the waistband of your skirt. He pauses again, seeking approval. You give him another nod, and he slides your skirt down your legs. His eager eyes rest on your panties, and you feel your body heat rise in anticipation of his next move.

Biting his lip, he slips his fingers beneath the fabric, making you shiver with delight. His touch is clumsy but purposed as he traces the folds between your legs. You moan as he massages you, and encouraged by your pleased response, he quickens his pace. His brilliant green eyes are locked on your face, observing your reactions as he strokes you.

His fingers drive you closer to the edge of ecstasy. You pant, grabbing the duvet beneath you as you feel the orgasm build until it crashes through your body, sending wave after wave of delight through your nerves. He watches eagerly as you are wracked by blissful shudders, his eyes filled with a hungry wonder as he smiles in mischievous delight.

"Lamli," you groan.

"I like it when you say my name that way," he says.

You both freeze and exchange startled glances when you hear voices and the stamp of feet on the first floor. He wants to do more--you want him to do more--but others have returned home. You hear Nac call for Lamli, and he practically falls out of your bed. He snatches his things from the chair and dresses as fast as he can, almost doing his buttons wrong several times.

"I'll tell them you're napping," he says.

With a lazy hum, you pull the covers over your body. Before he departs, he rushes to your side, gives you one last playful kiss, and hugs you. You laugh softly and respond to his kiss by adding several more of your own.

"Let me stay by your side while you sleep tonight," he says. "Not anyone else."

"Only you, nobody else," you say.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you, too," you whisper back.

He beams as he squeezes you, then slips through the door. The warmth of his embrace lingers after he leaves, and you can't help but smile to yourself. You curl into the sheets and close your eyes, your body still tingling from his touch. Your duvet still smells like him, so you pull it to your face and inhale, clutching it to your nose as you drift off into a satisfied sleep.

« Older · Newer »

[kaijuandcoffee]

Saint!Holly AU

My writing submission for @baddogzines​ warriors religion-themed zine. I haven’t written anything warriors-related in years but it was a lot of fun!

The Saint of Broken Stars

Part I

Sunfang was having a difficult night.

The broad-shouldered tom strode quickly through the undergrowth.

Heavy droplets of water soaked into his dark, golden fur.

Mud squelched underfoot.

But he couldn’t afford to slow his pace, not with the night he had been having. Sunfang resisted the urge to hiss with frustration under his breath, lest the sound alert anyone nearby.

Damn that wretched she-cat.

Sunfang had been a fool to let her get out of sight. Had she simply listened to him and not been so damned stubborn, he’d be asleep and warm in his nest by now.

StarClan help me, he thought, giving his wet fur a small shake.

He prayed the storm would not relent. While the rain made his fur heavy and cold, it would mask his scent and muffle his footsteps. And that would make the task at hand much easier.

A movement fluttered out of the corner of his eye. He froze in his tracks. Sunfang dropped to a hunter’s crouch behind a thick tangle of bramble, peering through the leaves.

The sleek, dark silhouette of a she-cat stole through the undergrowth. She paused by a patch of holly bushes, kneeling to drink from a puddle at her feet. It was Willowheart, he was sure of it. He couldn’t help but grin with cold satisfaction. Finally.

There you are.

Sunfang crept silently towards her. Her back was to him. His paws deftly navigating around any stick or leaf that would rudely announce his presence. He was only a few paces away now. She raised her head from the puddle, one ear flicking towards him. He tensed his hind legs. Her head started to turn.

Now.

Sunfang leapt with claws outstretched and canines bared, ready to rip into  neck and flesh. Ready to taste the sweet tang of lifeblood. Ready to put an end to his troubles for good.

But that moment never came.

Instead, Sunfang tumbled through the holly bushes, crashing headlong into a clearing, and finally landing with a heavy splash into the mud. He scrambled to his paws, head buzzing with confusion. She had been right there. He was sure of it. And yet, his claws had gone right through her as if she were made of mist. Had he hallucinated it? He looked frantically back and forth, looking for any sign of life. But there was only the patter of rain on leaf and soil.

“Looking for someone?”

An undignified and involuntary yowl escaped his throat. Sunfang whirled around to see who had spoken.

It was a she-cat, but not the one he was expecting. Her voice was deep, but clear and smooth like a frozen river. Her thick fur was deep, night-black, making her face almost featureless. Raindrops on her pelt glinted like starlight. Her eyes appeared…different. They appeared to glow from within like an emerald flame; gleaming with a burning intensity that seemed to illuminate the whole clearing.

They fascinated him as much as they unnerved him.

Sunfang quickly found his bearings, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height.

“Hail, friend! Apologies if I startled you,” he said, his voice oily and sweet like animal fat. She didn’t reply, so he continued.

“I’m looking for my mate. She went out hunting at sunset and hasn’t returned. I’m afraid she may have gotten herself lost in this mess of a  gale.” Ha gave a hapless chuckle and shook his head. “We always joke she’d lose her tail if it wasn’t attached to her. I’d be forever grateful if you could help me.”

The she-cat blinked impassively.

“Letting your mate hunt in this weather alone? Not behavior very becoming of a ThunderClan deputy, I should think.” She said, matter-of-factly.

Sunfang started. How had this stranger known that? He had assumed she was a stray or a rogue. A new warrior from another clan he had yet to see at a Gathering, perhaps?

“Well, ah, as deputy of ThunderClan I will guarantee you a warm bed to sleep and a belly full of fresh-kill for the night in return for any help you can give,” he said evenly, guarding his surprise. “ She’s a very talented hunter, and we did not expect the storm to move in so soon. Please, we’re very worried about her.”

The she-cat tilted her head to one side, as if to consider his words. Sunfang hoped she’d make up her mind or leave him be. He restrained an annoyed sigh. If she chose the latter, he’d have one more thing to take care of, once he found his damned mate. Sunfang wouldn’t risk any loose ends with his leadership teetering on ruin.

Look at the damned mess Willowheart had gotten him into. No matter. If he didn’t recognize this stranger, he doubted anyone would miss her either.

“You know what I think?”

Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. But before he could reply, the she-cat blinked, melting into the surrounding darkness.

“I think you’re a liar, Sunfang of ThunderClan.”

Her voice suddenly came from behind him. He whirled around again.

She was in a tree branch above him, tail swinging languidly back and forth.

Sunfang swung his head back and forth in disbelief.

“Wha- how-“

“in fact, i think if you’re a liar and a murderer,” she continued, flexing her foreclaws almost lazily.

Sunfang took a step back, heart beginning to thump.

“You have no proof of any such thing,” he snarled defiantly, “I live and die by the warrior code and what is best for my clan.”

“LIAR.”

This time her voice was thunderous, seeming to emanate from the forest itself. He felt it thrum through his bones, and his fur stood on end despite being soaked through.

She vanished into the night once more, this time reappearing a whisker away from his nose. Sunfang leapt back and turned tail to run, but the clearing had become encircled in a dense thicket of holly, pointed leaves bristling outward like claws.

Trembling, Sunfang turned back towards the she-cat. She was towering over him now, the edges of her fur beginning to sway and dance like flames in an unseen wind, untouched by the pounding rain.

“You claim to uphold the warrior code, to serve StarClan’s will. But we both know that’s not true,” She took a step forward, he took a quivering step back.

“We both know you are twisting the Code and StarClan’s name to justify the slaying of innocents for your own gain,” her voice crackled like lighting around him.

“No! She would have ruined everything! She wouldn’t have understood! It was what was best for my clan! It was what was best for her!”

“SILENCE.”

The edges of her fur were beginning to flicker into crimson flames. A golden halo of light began to encircle her head, studded with three holly leaves. They looked sleek, and sharp.

“Wh-what are you??” Sunfang cried, cowering to the ground.

Flames were fully burning at the edges of her fur now, her bright green eyes ruthless with divine judgement.

“I am Hollyleaf, Saint of Broken and Fallen Stars, guide to lost souls, guardian of the unjustly wronged, and bringer of retribution to those who would harm to the innocent,” she thundered.

Sunfang felt he might be sick with terror.

“But-she broke the warrior code as much as I did! I was just trying to fix it!” He wailed,

“Have mercy, I’ll repent, I swear it on StarClan!”

Hollyleaf laughed.

“The stars cannot help you. They’re the ones who sent me.”

The flames pouring off her fur burned with the heat and radience of a falling star.

Sunfang didn’t have time to scream.

The blinding light engulfed the clearing.

The two cats were gone. The clearing stood empty.

A young sapling of holly unfurled from the mud. Its leaves were black as night. Raindrops glinted off of them like starlight.

Sunfang’s clanmates assumed he lost his footing and drowned in the lake or flooded stream. Some elders gossiped he had run away with a stray she-cat. Some thought maybe he had a run-in with a fox or badger. They had many theories, none of which could ever be proven right or wrong.  

Sunfang, the great warrior and noble deputy of ThunderClan, was never seen again.

***

Part II

Willowheart was having a difficult night. She supposed that was putting it lightly, but she had brought it upon herself.

The dark grey she-cat trembled, crouching low in the hollow of a pine tree’s ancient trunk. It was dark and damp, but she hoped it would be safe. Willowheart resisted a sob threatening to climb out of her throat. She couldn’t afford to make a sound.

The lives of the kits in her belly depended on it as much as her own.

Willowheart drew into herself, trying to make herself as invisible as possible from the hollow’s opening. She unsheathed her claws as she did so. If he did find her, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Not without spilling as much of his blood as possible.

StarClan help me.

Her muscles ached as she remained still, her strained ears listened to the unceasing rain. Every twig snap and leaf rustle made her start, hackles raised. Time lengthened. The night seemed endless.

Then there was a voice.

“Are you alright?”

Willowheart snapped upright, back arched and teeth bared.

“Who said that?” she spat, claws bristling, “Don’t come any closer or I’ll rip your throat out.”

Her terror twisted into confusion when she realized who had spoken. The voice hadn’t belonged to her former mate, rather it came from a she-cat standing at the hollow’s entrance. That didn’t mean safety, and Willowhear remained on guard.

“Don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm,” the stranger said, voice soft and earnest.

The she-cat had bright, burning green eyes that stood out starkly against her night-black fur. Raindrops sparkling against her coat glittered like stars on a moonless night.

“Please, then, leave me be,” Willowheart hissed quietly, “you’ll draw attention to this place and i cannot be found.”

“I can help you,” the she-cat countered, “but only if you let me.”

Willowheart kept her claws unsheathed, still suspicious.

“How can I trust you, stranger?”

The she-cat stepped into the hollow, and a dense thicket of holly grew behind her, completely shielding the entrance. Willowheart’s jaw dropped and she crouched low to the ground, trembling with shock and terror.”

“Because I am not a stranger, nor an ordinary cat,” the she-cat said, her fathomless voice seeming to emenate from the hollow. She paused, and smiled kindly, “My name is Hollyleaf. And i’m a friend.”

“Wha-what are you?” Was all Willowheart could manage.

Hollyleaf sat, keeping a respectful distance.

“I was a warrior, long ago. My life was…complicated. I lost my way and hurt cats that loved me. I felt I had died before I could truly live up to my potential. I asked StarClan to grant me the power to help those who were lost or suffering, to give the help I received in my own lifetime.”

Hollyleaf sighed, the weight of her lifetimes pressing heavily on her chest. Every time Hollyleaf told her story she wondered if she made the right choice. She could be hunting in the warm, endless summer nights of SilverPelt with Fallen Leaves. Hollyleaf occasionally returned to see him, and every time it was harder to leave him again. She didn’t regret many of the choices she made in life. They helped her come to terms with who and what she was. She had died protecting her kin and her Clan. Didn’t she deserve to rest? To indulge in the peace and rest never granted to her in life? Was she just trying to show StarClan they made a mistake in not granting her a place in their grand prophecy?

But then Hollyleaf looked back up at the trembling queen before her, bloodied and ragged from the terrible night, and her resolve steeled.  

No.

Hollyleaf would not--could not-- rest when she had the power to help someone that needed her, regardless of Clan allegiance.

She squared her shoulders and met the she-cat’s gaze.

“Now, I’m here to help you. What is your name, and happened to you?” She said, quiet but determined.

The gray she cat looked down shamefully.

“I…I broke the warrior code. How can you help me when I’m not innocent myself?”

Hollyleaf stood up and padded closer. When Willowheart didn’t protest, Hollyleaf sat next to her, pressing comfortingly into her side. Willowheart flinched, but relaxed as the spirit’s warmth seemed to seep into her bones and ease the sting of her wounds.

“No cat has lived a purely innocent life. We all deserve patience, kindness, and forgiveness… when it is deserved. You broke the Code for love. And there is no greater innocence than that.”

This time a sob did escape Willowheart’s throat. She took a deep, steadying breath.

“We starting talking at Gatherings…and then we started meeting in secret. He was charming, funny, a great warrior. He said he loved me, that he would arrange for me to join him in ThunderClan. In the spring, when prey was running and it would be an easier transition.” The words, stifled and restrainted in secret for so long, came tumbling free from Willowheart’s mouth.

“Then my belly began to grow…and I realized I was carrying his children. I was so scared, but so happy. I thought he would be, too,” she laughed ruefully, “but what I didn’t know is ThunderClan’s deputy died suddenly, and he was chosen to replace her. That’s when he decided I was not worth the risk to his leadership…and his legacy.”

Willowheart dug her claws into the sodden earth. It was difficult to continue but she knew she had to, like drawing venom from a wound.

“When I told him he…he said he couldn’t be happier, that we should meet at sunset on the night of the new moon. Something about giving the clan a night to sleep on it and starting fresh in the morning….” Her voice was quaking again, ears burning with shame. What a stupid fool she had been. But she had trusted him. She had loved him.

“We met at our spot on the border but then…then he told me that his greatest love was to his clan and the warrior code…that he worked too hard to become deputy fto be ruined by a ‘Silly little moon-struck she-cat’….and he…and he….”

Her voice trailed off as her mind wrenched back to that awful moment. The rain had just begun to fall, and his claws shone bone-white against the dampening earth.

You understand, don’t you? This is what’s best, for everyone. I’ll make it quick, for old time’s sake…

Her mate had leapt at her, claws aiming for her throat. Had it not been for Willowheart’s razor-sharp reflexes, borne from a lifetime of hunting birds as a SkyClan warrior, she would have died on the spot. She whipped to one side, his claws raking painfully along her shoulder but missing their vital target. He staggered, caught off-foot by her dodge, and she seized the moment to turn tail and run.

Willowheart had never run like that before. Careening wildly through the undergrowth, blind to the brambles that clawed at her face and the roots that snagged at her claws. Rain stung her eyes as she zigzagged like a mad fox, hoping it would make her harder to track. Finally she had spied the opening to the tree hollow. She scrambled inside, trying to silently catch her ragged breath. Willowheart was bloody, her paws ached, and she was drenched with muddy rain. She was sure it was only a matter of time before he found her, but for that moment, she was alive.

“You were very brave, and you’re a great warrior,” Hollyleaf said, bringing Willowheart back to the present. She got the distinct impression that Hollyleaf had seen her thoughts, and she was grateful she didn’t have to voice them. For now, just remembering was enough. She let herself slump to the ground, the full weight of her exhaustion finally setting in.

“It doesn’t matter. He lied to me. He lied. Every time he said he loved me, every time he said we were each other’s futures, he lied….but what’s worse is that now, I don’t have a home to go back to. I had been spending more and more time away from my clan to hide my pregnancy. They won’t think it odd if I’m gone. No one is coming to find me. I can’t go to ThunderClan either. I have no allies there…” Willowheart finally met Hollyleaf’s burning emerald eyes, unable to keep the pleading out of her voice, “You said you offer help to lost cats. What should I do?”

“That depends…what do you, Willowheart of SkyClan, want? For yourself, not just your kits.”

She pondered this. No one had ever asked her that.

“I…I want to go home. I want to see my sisters and brother,” Willowheart began slowly, “I want my kits know their kin. I want them to grow up as strong, proud SkyClan warriors…and I want to be a warrior they’ll be proud to call their mother.”

But her rebounding hope and joy quickly flickered out.

“But I don’t know if the clan will accept them…accept me, after all of this,” she finished dejectedly. Hollyleaf laid her tail over Willowheart’s shoulders.

“You underestimate the love your family has for you. I can sense it from the stars. They miss you, and worry when you don’t come home. If this is what you truly want, my guidance is this: Go back, and tell them the truth.”

Willowheart opened her mouth to protest, looking up at her in disbelief. Hollyleaf raised her tail for silence.

“Trust me, these sort of secrets always come out eventually. It will do nothing but become an unbearable weight that will haunt you through life. Better your clan and your family have the truth. The sooner they know it, the sooner they can reckon with it and move on. Your kits aren’t the first half-clan cats, and won’t be the last. I’m not saying it will be easy. But it will get easier.”

Hollyleaf smiled kindly, and pressed a paw into the earth. A small holly sapling unfurled from the ground. Its leaves and berries were the same night-black as her fur, and they sparkled with dew like starlight. It emanated the same healing warmth as Hollyleaf herself. Willowheart started at it in wonderment.

“Take this to your medicine cat. Tell them it’s an omen that your kits have StarClan’s blessing, and they will become fine warriors to serve their clan. And if anyone needs more…persuading, put it under your nest. I’ll do what I can to help.”

Hollyleaf pushed herself to her paws and made her way to the hollow’s entrance.

“Wait here till morning light. The holly trees will protect you. As for your…former mate, I will ensure he won’t get in your way. Your passage home will be safe.”  

Willowheart looked up at the spirit, a flurry of emotions passing through her chest.

“How…how can I ever thank you?”

Hollyleaf paused, and smiled back over her shoulder.

“Tell your kits I said hello,” she grinned.

Hollyleaf flicked her tail. Then she was gone.

Willowheart immediately missed her presence, but trusted her promise of safety.

She curled up and finally drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming of her children at their name ceremonies, her brother teaching them his famous silent hunting crouch, her sister showing them her special fighting moves. Whatever their future held, she knew they would be safe.

And they would be loved.

***

Out in the darkening storm, a large golden tom strode silently through the brush.

Hollyleaf watched from a high tree branch as he followed a trail of splintered twigs and leaves.

StarClan help me, she heard his echoing prayer.

Hollyleaf got to her paws. She was all too happy to answer his call.

***

Author’s Noe: I fell in love with the Warriors series in middle school and it’s followed me ever since. My thought behind this art and story was an AU where Clan cats who had unfinished business could become warriors of StarClan known as Saints, to watch over and protect the living. Not any cat can become a Saint, they have to prove themselves worthy before a council of Ancients that deem them worthy of their power.

I chose Hollyleaf as my subject because I’ve always loved her as a character. I actually stopped reading the series after the cliffhanger in Po3 where it seems like Hollyleaf died in the tunnels. At the time I couldn’t express it, but looking back I think I felt like a character I had really cared about and connected with had been done dirty by the narrative (as tends to happens with the female protagonists of this cursed series lol). I had undiagnosed ADHD until I was in college, and I think I really emphasize with her journey of discovering something about herself  that makes her reckon with feelings of inadequacy, rage, heartbreak, and betrayal. Obviously my stakes were not as high as hers, but I’ve had a soft spot for her ever since. It was really fun to explore what she would do if given divine power. I thought her story made her a good candidate to be sort of an avenging angel character, protecting those in need with the loyalty and nobility she had in life, balanced with her ruthless dispense of judgement to those she deems deserving of it. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

[ekleipsi]

body curls around their partners own , sleep far away it would seem for the night , though it was hard to complain as limbs were entwined with both of their others. Umbers legs were laced through Lei and Jaegers own , though faced away and the boy found themselves laying upon the vampires chest. they listened to the others breathing , their slight movements and enjoyed the contact of flesh between all three of them.

this was their happy place. this could , and in all truth , be considered their heaven on earth.

violet hues tilt upward to gaze upon partners features , drawing digit tips along the line of his jaw towards ear , before fiddling with strands of hair. Lei was so very enthralled with him. they would happily admit that it wasnt too damn hard for the vampire to garner such a thing from the boy. a small smile pulls upon the corner of their lips , a look of adoration painted in their eyes.

❛ i think i love you. ❜ it is a soft whisper , merely to rest between their ears. Umber often told Lei she loved them , but their relationship was far more platonic than anything. they wondered if umber felt the same for jaeger , they hoped she did. but for now , the boy was content with voicing their own sickly sweet feelings.

a stretch is given until features could be buried into the curve of his neck. ❛ no , i know i do. ❜

--- Vampires didn't require sleep. That's not to say they didn't sleep at all, and Jaeger indulged in it quite often himself, but it wasn't necessary to upkeeping their physical and mental health in the same way it was for humans and other creatures. It didn't help that he tended to have more energy at night than he did during the day as well, and since both of his partners were already asleep and splayed across the rather large bed while moon crested sky? He was like a man, who refused to move because cats had taken residence.

--- With tangled limbs and touching bodies, flesh to flesh in so many ways (he slept naked, though not always did his partners) he found himself comfortable upon mattress. The niggling of thoughts that wormed their way into his mind though were only accented by the way Leilani's gaze lifted towards his features. He could feel them staring, and cracked an eye open at the other with a small loft of his brow.

--- ' Shouldn't you be asleep...Umber will kill us both if we wake her up... ' he mused, humor dripping from his tone. He resisted the urge to offer a fanged smirk to his lover at the offered words, but all he received in turn was silence- something that gave him enough pause to worry just a bit. ' You okay, Lei? ' he asked quietly, soft. A hand lifted to tangle into hair, gently, petting the other while worrying if they'd had a nightmare, or if something was on their mind.

---Silence settled between them, and while it wasn't awkward by any stretch of the imagination, there was a tension in it on Jaeger's end as he waited with bated breath, for an answer. ' Babe- ' he'd begun, before Leilani's soft whisper finally found voice. It was the only thing uttered in the otherwise silent room, aside from Umber's own breathing while she slept...and hearing the words made his entire frame tense and go rigid. I think I love you.

--- Unwelcome flashes of a past blotted out his gaze, stars popping into his vision as a memory is all but forced to the surface, laying beneath thick blanket of velvet with lovers...a moment not unlike this. ' Ich glaube, ich liebe dich, Jaeger... ' [ I think I love you, Jaeger... ] the words at that time had caused him to grin widely, fangs on full display and so carelessly shown to those he thought would...be with him. Forever. Those he'd fallen so in love with. He'd reciprocated the words in a heartbeat, without a second breath, without hesitation. ' Wirst du…mich ändern? Uns? Damit wir zusammen sein können…für immer? ' [ Will you change me? Us? So we can be together...forever? ] Forever. Forever. Forever.

--- The memory shifted forward to empty palms, turned backs, and a hairflip, laughter spilling past lips. ' Für immer ist es sehr lang, mit einer einzigen wesen zusammen zu sein, meine Liebe. Wie dumm. ' [ Forever is very long to be with a single person, my love. How foolish. ] It was the last time he saw them...love, slipping between his fingers and abandoning him once they'd used him to get what they wanted. Reality crashed around his ears, drawing him back into the moment with Leilani as the thundering of blood in his ears echoed and breath quickened.

--- ' I... ' Fingers tensed, pain and heartache written across his features- things Leilani wouldn't understand. Couldn't. Certainly not the way that Umber did, at the very least, as these were all things she'd been forcibly revealed...but they were yet secrets, that he'd kept from the other. ' You don't...you don't want to do that, Lei. Don't love me. Isn't...it fine like this... ' he muttered, trying to sink further and further into the mattress. Were it not for smaller laying right atop him, he likely would have gotten up completely. ' This isn't love...this is just...being together. Love isn't real. '

[bhaalsdeepbat]

I've been playing with the idea of two of my Durges, Ashe and Mercy, being twins, both sculpted to devour, but made to compete. So baby's first Urge is triggered in both and the cottage becomes a fucking nightmare. Mercy is the more feral of the two in general, but both would have been little beasties when they were set upon each other. The victor was awarded the honor of the full family kill and Sceleritas Fel to replace their, now deceased, (adoptive) parents.

This is the branching point for each because one of the twins always dies that night.

Mercy would have been the one truly haunted by the experience, but the love and support from Sceleritas would have eased them into their role as Bhaal's scion. They would have been comforted by the idea of being reunited with Ashe once Mercy razed the world over and finally slaughtered themself on Bhaal's altar. They did try to resist at first as a child, but quickly gave up when they realized the futility of resisting destiny.

When Mercy prowled the streets, they were like a feral cat on the prowl. Growling, hissing, tail twitching, no humanity behind the glow of their eyes. They're a Sorc, so they liked being able to use their magic for the hunt, but would only carve into their prey with a knife. They would also actually hunt in the streets.

Ashe, on the other hand, never resisted before. She started having nightmares before her Urges awoke. Unlike Mercy, she knew something was wrong with her, and she accepted early on that she was just Bad. She never forgot Mercy, but she also knew it was necessary to be the favored child of Bhaal. She wanted his favor immediately, relying on pleasing him to fill the void her family left, until she closed that part of herself away entirely.

Ashe liked to play with her prey. She's a bard, and more on the manipulative side. She liked leading people to slaughter with a smile on her face as she deceived them into willingly following her to their doom. With poison on her lips and coating the pins in her hair, she liked to whisper sweet nothings in their ear, then poison them to get them to her altar. She's murder with finesse, but without any art to it. Instead, she turned to her sketchbooks to relive the beauty of whatever carnage she caused, envisioning different ways she could have carved the body.

Both Ashe and Mercy can remember the other's face after being scrambled, but it's at different parts of their journey. Regardless, the imprint is lurking in their mind, allowing the Emperor to borrow the dead twin's form when trying to obscure his own identity. Ashe was drawing Mercy in her sketchbooks before meeting the dream visitor. She could barely remember who Mercy was, but drawing is second nature. Drawing the deceased was muscle memory.

Ashe would have mad respect for how Ballsy Emp was for taking Mercy's form when she put two and two together, though.

Mercy doesn't ever quite remember Ashe with the same clarity, but they do remember her face and eventually recall flashes of memories. They find some photos in their old diary that they kept and it's what triggers them to even remember at all. They keep those photos close and had them in hand when they told Bhaal to suck it. They can't make ammends for all they've done, but they can refuse to lead the world to ruin and say fuck you to Bhaal and the destiny he forced on them.

Mercy is the one who survives in my ~*canon*~ because of how young the two were when baby's first murder happened. So, Ashe's timeline is AU where she got lucky against her naturally gifted sibling and desperately tried to be worthy of the birthright thrust upon her.

I've been playing with Ashe being very willing to be leashed and led whereas Mercy's ultimate desire has always been to be free of being owned and used, they just never had the strength to pursue it until waking up on the nautiloid.