#they’re living breathing creatures just like a dog or a cat

[pucksandpower]

Danger Noodles

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Summary: When asked to describe Formula 1 drivers in a single word, many people would choose “brave” … but those people clearly haven’t seen your boyfriends near a snake

You sink back into the plush couch, wedged happily between your boyfriends. Max’s arm is draped casually over your shoulders while Charles holds your hand, gently stroking his thumb over your knuckles as they both gaze at you adoringly.

“We have something we want to ask you,” Max says, giving your shoulders a little squeeze.

Your heart flutters, wondering what they’re going to propose. The three of you have been nearly inseparable for the past six months, falling more and more deeply in love with each passing day.

“What is it?”

Charles grins, bringing your hand to his lips for a tender kiss. “Well … we were hoping you would move in with us.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Of course you’ve dreamed about living with them — waking up tangled in bed together each morning, cooking side by side, cuddling on the couch every night. But there’s one major issue that gives you pause.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you stammer.

“Say yes!” Max nuzzles your cheek. “It will be amazing, the three of us together.”

You bite your lip anxiously. “Well, there’s actually something you should know first ...”

But Charles cuts you off, cupping your face in his hands. “We know this is fast but it just feels right, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine not having you with us when we fall asleep and when we wake up every day. We love you so much.”

He kisses you softly and your reservations start to melt away. How could you even think of say no when they’re looking at you like that, so full of hope and devotion?

Max tilts your chin towards him for a deep, lingering kiss. “Please move in with us, liefje. It will be like a dream come true.”

You open your mouth but Charles swoops in for another kiss, stealing your breath. “Imagine lazy mornings in bed, making those blueberry pancakes you love together, playing with our ...”

He trails off, his nose crinkling adorably as he thinks. You take a deep breath. This is your chance.

“Playing with my pets,” you finish for him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I have pets.”

Max and Charles exchange surprised looks.

“Pets? What kind of pets?” Max asks.

You hesitate, trying to figure out how to break this gently. But the words stick in your throat.

Charles grins and pulls you against his chest. “As long as they’re not snakes or spiders, I think we can handle whatever furry creatures you have.”

Max chuckles. “Yeah, anything but those two. You know how terrified we are of them.” He shudders dramatically.

You open your mouth but Max barrels on enthusiastically.

“I bet you have the cutest little dog or cat. Maybe even both! Don’t worry, we’ll love them because they’re part of you. Plus Jimmy and Sassy could use some more siblings.”

Charles nods eagerly. “Absolutely! Your pets will be our pets. We can’t wait to meet them and spoil them.”

You try again weakly. “But you don’t underst—”

Max presses a finger to your lips. “No more hesitation. We want you to move in with us and we want to meet your pets. I have a good feeling they’ll fit right into the family.”

Charles tickles your sides playfully, making you squeal. “So what do you say? Are you ready to take this next step with us?”

They both gaze at you with such hope and excitement, you can’t bear to ruin it just yet. Moving in together is a big step, one you’ve dreamed of taking. And they seem so thrilled about your pets, misunderstanding though it is.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe they’ll come around once they actually meet your snakes and see how sweet and harmless they are. You can ease them into it slowly.

“Yes,” you finally say, breaking into a wide smile. “I would love to move in with you both.”

Max and Charles let out whoops of joy, tackling you backwards onto the couch in a tangle of limbs and ecstatic kisses. You dissolve into giggles, caught up in their infectious enthusiasm.

For now, you decide to just enjoy this moment. The conversation about snakes can wait a little longer. You snuggle into your boyfriends’ arms, thrilled to be taking this step even if you have a nagging worry about their reaction to your pets.

But their smiles chase away those doubts for the time being. Curled between these two men who you love with your whole heart, you feel like the luckiest person alive.

***

You take a deep breath as you look around your new shared bedroom. The movers have brought in all of your boxes. Your clothes are hanging neatly in the walk-in closet next to Max’s Red Bull branded shirts and Charles’ eclectic collection of pants. Your knickknacks are scattered around, blending seamlessly with their belongings.

This really is your home now. The thought makes your heart swell even as your stomach twists anxiously. There’s only one thing left to move in — your beloved pet snakes.

You decided put this off until the very end, dreading your boyfriends’ reaction. But now you can’t delay any longer.

Taking another deep breath, you head down the hall to where Max and Charles are unpacking your novelty mugs in the kitchen.

Max looks up with a grin as you enter. “Is everything all moved in?”

You force a smile. “Just about. There’s, um, just three things left.”

Charles wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Well let’s go get them! I’m so excited to finally meet these pets of yours.”

Your throat goes dry. You should have told them sooner. But there’s no backing out now.

“Yeah, about that ...” you start nervously.

But Max is already eagerly dragging you towards the front door. “Come on, what are we waiting for? Bring in the fur babies!”

Your steps drag reluctantly as you lead them down to the garage where your car is parked. You open the backseat door, reaching for the first snake habitat.

Max and Charles peer eagerly into the car. As you turn, reptile habitat in hand, their faces morph from excitement to confusion to outright horror.

Charles stumbles back with a yelp. “Is that a snake?”

You bite your lip, cradling the habitat protectively against your chest. Your corn snake stares back at them curiously.

“Yes, this is Caramel. She’s my pet corn snake. And I have two other snakes — Cookie and Basil.” You gesture at the other two setups still in the car.

Max’s face has gone pale, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares at Caramel. Charles looks similarly shaken.

“Snakes?” Charles squeaks in disbelief. “Your pets are snakes?”

You nod, feeling awful for not warning them sooner. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up ... but they’re very sweet, I promise! They would never hurt anyone.”

But Max has already stumbled several more steps away, looking like he might pass out. “You want us to live with snakes? Actual slithering, scaly snakes?”

Charles shakes his head rapidly, hands up in front of himself defensively. “Oh no no no. This can’t be happening. Snakes are my worst fear!”

You cuddle Caramel gently, who flicks her tongue out placidly. “I know it’s a shock but once you get to meet them, you’ll see they’re harmless. Please, give them a chance for me?”

But Charles and Max only continue to edge away, staring at Caramel like she might lunge at them.

“I can’t do this. I can’t live with snakes,” Max chokes out before bolting back to the elevator.

Charles gives you a desperate, apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. We ... we need some time to process this.” He turns and races after Max, pressing the button to close the elevator doors repeatedly.

You stand there, shoulders slumping as you hold Caramel’s habitat close. Your eyes well up with tears. You’ve just moved in with the men you love more than anything and they can’t even stand to be near the pets that you consider your children.

Sniffling, you gently set Caramel’s habitat back in the car next to Cookie and Basil.

“It’s going to be ok,” you whisper to them, wiping your eyes. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll give them some time and hopefully they’ll come around.”

But a sob escapes as you think about the apartment that was supposed to be your new loving home but now instead only feels cold and unwelcoming.

Taking a shuddering breath, you smooth down your hair and lift your chin. You just need to be patient. And maybe do some exposure therapy to help Max and Charles overcome their fear.

You have to believe everything will work out in the end. Because the alternative — either losing the men you love or having to give up your precious snakes — is unthinkable.

***

You sit on a park bench in the middle of Monaco, the sun warming your face. But even the beautiful weather can’t lift your mood. Your heart aches thinking about the disastrous attempt to move in with Max and Charles earlier.

The looks of horror on their faces when they saw your pet snakes are seared into your mind. You really believed they would accept all parts of you when they asked you to move in. Now you just feel silly for ever thinking this could work.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you gaze down at the snake habitats next to you where your precious babies Caramel, Cookie, and Basil are curled up.

“I’m so sorry, my loves,” you whisper to them. “This is all my fault.”

The snakes flick their tongues out softly as if to comfort you. You manage a small, sad smile. At least you still have your scaly companions, even if your dream of living with your boyfriends has been shattered as painfully as possible.

You’re so lost in melancholy thoughts that you don’t notice two familiar figures approaching until they’re right in front of you.

“There you are,” Max says, slightly out of breath. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You look up with reddened eyes to see Max and Charles gazing down at you remorsefully. Charles holds a small cooler in his hands.

“What do you want?” You ask warily, shifting to try to shield your snakes from view.

Max winces at your defensive tone. “We want to apologize. We’re so sorry for overreacting earlier. It was just ... a huge shock.”

Charles nods earnestly. “We feel awful for upsetting you and the snakes. We want to make things right.”

He sets the cooler down and opens it, pulling out three frozen mice. Your snakes perk up at the sight of their favorite snack.

“We brought peace offerings,” Charles says with an anxious but hopeful smile. “We want to get to know Caramel, Cookie, and Basil. Will you please give us another chance?”

You bite your lip, torn between cautious optimism and lingering hurt.

Max kneels down beside you, taking your hand in his. “We were idiots. We should have handled it better. But the thought of losing you is unbearable. We don’t want to live without you.”

Charles sits on your other side, squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll learn to love your snakes because they’re yours. Please come home and give us a chance to make things right.”

His pleading green eyes and Max’s gentle blue ones melt your resolve.

Finally you nod, a tiny smile breaking through. “Okay. I’m willing to try again if you are.”

Their faces light up with relief. Charles eagerly grabs Cookie’s habitat as Max reaches for Caramel.

“Let the snake exposure therapy begin!” Max declares. They settle the habitats carefully on their laps.

You let out a soft laugh as they lean in curiously. Caramel and Cookie slowly slither closer, flicking their tongues as they examine Max and Charles.

Charles yelps as Cookie boops her nose against the glass right in front of his face. Max laughs, though he looks nervous having Caramel so close.

You scoot over next to Max, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go ahead, you can touch her. Gentle strokes along her back.”

Max gulps but tentatively reaches out, lightly petting Caramel’s head. His eyes widen in surprise. “Wow, she’s so smooth and soft!”

Charles gains courage from Max’s bravery and mimics him, stroking Cookie’s back. A small grin starts to spread across his face. “This is actually kind of nice!”

You beam proudly. “See, I told you they’re sweethearts.”

The boys relax as they grow more comfortable petting the snakes. All the tension from earlier fades away.

“We really are so sorry,” Max says, lifting your hand to his lips for a kiss. “No more overreacting. From now on, we promise to embrace all of you — even the scaly parts.”

Charles leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Please come home. It’s not home without you.”

Your throat tightens with emotion. You throw your arms around them in a big hug, snakes and all.

“Let’s go home,” you whisper.

***

Max clutches the steering wheel, brow furrowed in concentration as he races on his simulator. The wheels start to skid and he fights to keep control of the virtual car.

“Nice save,” his teammate Gianni says over the headset.

Max grins, glancing at the livestream camera filming him. “Just warming up the tires, mate.”

As he comes out of the chicane, he feels something brush his ankle. Probably one of the cats pestering him while he’s trying to drive.

“Not now, Sassy,” he murmurs, downshifting to take on the next corner.

But then Max feels smooth scales glide across his foot.

He yelps, hitting the brakes reflexively. The car spins out, the livestream immortalizing every second of his shocked expression.

“You okay?” Gianni asks, oblivious to the cause of Max’s surprise.

Max looks down to see Caramel curling happily around his simulator pedals. She must have escaped her habitat … again.

“Uh yeah, I just had a little visit from one of Y/N’s snakes,” Max says with a breathless laugh. “Nearly gave me a heart attack but I’m alright.”

He hears Gianni cracking up through the headset. “Oh man, I forgot you guys took in those snakes too! They just slither around while you’re racing huh? That’s wild.”

Max carefully picks up Caramel, her smooth scales sliding over his hands. She flicks her tongue out innocently.

“Clever girl, sneaking in here while I was focused on driving,” Max coos, unable to be mad at her. He makes sure the livestream audience gets a good view. “Say hi to the fans, Cara!”

The live chat fills with snake emojis and laughs. Gianni fake-shudders through the headset. “You’re a braver man than me, letting those things just wander around. No thanks!”

Max grins, gently stroking Caramel’s head. “They’re not so bad once you get to know them. Just gotta respect their space. Right, sweetie?”

Caramel bobs her head as if in agreement. The live chat melts over how cute she is.

“If you say so,” Gianni says. “Now put the danger noodle away and let’s get back to racing!”

“She’s not a danger noodle, she’s a sweetheart,” Max protests with a laugh. But he dutifully returns Caramel to her habitat before hopping back in the simulator.

Later that day, you come home from work to find Max laughing at the snippets of his stream that fans have shared online.

“I had a special guest appearance from one of our scaly housemates today,” he says, pulling you down onto his lap to show you the clip of Caramel surprising him mid-race.

You laugh, “She just hates being cooped up.”

“Clearly,” Max says wryly. But his eyes are soft as he gazes at you. “You were right though — they are growing on me. Never thought I would say that about snakes but here we are.”

He kisses you sweetly. You cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over his stubble as you feel your heart swell to triple its size.

“I’m really proud of you. And Caramel definitely got your stream some extra views today!” You tease.

Max groans. “I’ve gone soft! But I guess for you and our unconventional little family, I can make an exception.”

You snuggle into his chest, perfectly content. Having supportive partners who cherish both you and your scaly babies makes all the difference. And you have to admit, seeing your tough boyfriend coo over Caramel was pretty darn cute.

***

Race day morning in Monaco is always a whirlwind. You kiss Charles and Max goodbye as they rush out the door to head to the circuit, matching Louis Vuitton backpacks slung over their shoulders. Little do any of you know, a small scaly stowaway has curled up inside of one.

In the Ferrari motorhome, Charles is changing into his race suit when he hears startled shouts from some mechanics. He turns to see Cookie, peeking her head out of his backpack, flicking her tongue as she takes in the unfamiliar location.

“Cookie! What are you doing here?” Charles asks with a laugh. The mechanics back away nervously.

Charles gently picks her up. “It’s okay, she is perfectly harmless. This is one of my girlfriend’s pet snakes.”

Cookie wraps around Charles’ hand, seeking warmth. He smiles and strokes her scales.

“Well, I guess you’re the team mascot now,” he tells her. “Let’s find you a nice Ferrari bandana to wear.”

He ties the red fabric around Cookie, who seems quite pleased with her new accessory. Charles carefully sets her around his shoulders and heads out to the paddock.

As expected, the other drivers have mixed reactions to the surprise reptile visitor. Lewis grins and comes over to pet Cookie, happy to see a fellow animal lover. Meanwhile Lando takes one look and speed-walks in the opposite direction.

“If Roscoe can attend races then so can snakes,” Charles argues when there are murmurs about animals not being allowed in the pit lane. He scratches under Cookie’s chin proudly. “Right, ma belle?”

When Max arrives for the drivers parade, he bursts out laughing at the sight of Cookie draped around Charles’ neck.

“Y/N will get a kick out of this,” he says, giving the snake a little chin rub. “But I can’t let you outdo me!”

He quickly ties a Red Bull bracelet around Cookie, perfectly sized to be a snake necklace. “There, now she can root for both of us!”

You’re watching the broadcast in hospitality when the camera pans to show Charles, Cookie curled contentedly around his shoulders.

Your jaw drops.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim with a laugh. But your heart melts seeing Charles parade her around like a princely scarf. And her new accessories are just too cute.

In the end, Cookie seems to bring Charles good luck. He takes the chequered flag and snags his first home victory, the curious snake cheering him on the whole time from where she’s cozily curled up in your lap.

On the podium, Charles grins up at the cameras with Cookie snaking her way to wrap around his cap. “We make a great team!” He proclaims, holding up the little snake like she’s Simba in the Lion King.

The crowd laughs and applauds. You watch with delight, shaking your head at this ridiculous man and his new snaky sidekick.

Later, back home after a long night of jumping from club to club, you lavish both Charles and Cookie with praise and kisses.

“I can’t believe our girl got to be part of your special l day!” You cuddle her close. “She must have loved all the excitement.”

Charles grins and slides his arms around your waist. “It was meant to be. She’s my new Monaco Grand Prix lucky charm!”

Cookie bobs her head happily. She’s clearly enjoyed her big day out.

You laugh as Charles spins you around the living room in an impromptu victory dance while Max records the two of you with a proud smile. Having supportive partners who not only accept but celebrate all aspects of you — even the reptilian ones — is a dream come true.

This really is the perfect unconventional family.

***

Sunlight streams through the curtains, rousing you from sleep. You stretch languidly, sandwiched between Max and Charles’ warm bodies. What a perfect way to wake up.

Charles nuzzles into your neck, planting soft kisses along the stretch of skin. “Good morning, mon amour.”

You hum happily, tilting your head to capture his lips in a kiss. His hand trails down your side, fingers dancing over your hip.

On your other side, Max presses up against you, his muscular frame molded to yours. His nose grazes your jaw as his lips find your shoulder.

You sigh blissfully at the sensation of being cradled between them. Their hands wander reverently across your body as they pepper you with kisses.

Then you feel something long and firm nudge against your thigh under the sheets. You smirk, assuming one of them is getting frisky.

“Is that a banana or are you just happy to see me?” You tease.

Max and Charles exchange confused looks over you.

You frown and reach down to grab whatever is poking you ... and feel familiar dry scales. Your eyes go wide.

Throwing back the sheets reveals Basil curled up happily on your leg.

“Basil!” You exclaim as Max and Charles shriek in surprise.

Basil just flicks his tongue out, pleased as can be to have found such a cozy sleeping spot.

You fall back against the pillows laughing while Max and Charles look on with wide eyes.

“So much for a romantic morning in bed,” Max grumbles. But his smile tells you that he’s not truly mad.

Charles runs a hand through his rumpled hair, grinning ruefully. “We really need to snake-proof the apartment.”

You scoop up Basil, giving him a gentle scolding. “What are we going to do with you, silly boy? You just love snuggling, don’t you?”

Basil bobs his head unrepentantly. Max shakes his head and comes over to scratch under his chin.

“Oh you little snake. Gave us quite the surprise!”

Charles joins you both, reaching out tentatively to pet Basil. “I have to admit, the look on your face was pretty priceless, mon ange.”

You swat his shoulder but let him pull you into his lap. Basil winds happily around your wrists as you kiss.

Max presses up behind you, hands wandering your body as he nuzzles into your hair.

“Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” He murmurs.

You laugh as they topple you backwards onto the pillows, peppering you with kisses. Basil slithers away happily and you lose yourself in your lovers’ embrace.

Later, basking in the afterglow, you glance over to see Cookie and Caramel have joined Basil in exploring the room. You really do need to snake-proof better.

But as Max pulls you against his chest and Charles winds his arms around your waist from behind, you can’t find it in you to care right now.

“Our lives may be crazy with these snakes,” Max presses his lips to your temple, “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Charles hums in agreement, dotting kisses on your shoulder. You cover their hands with your own, heart overflowing with love.

Is your little family unconventional? Yes. Chaotic? Absolutely. But also wonderfully, perfectly yours.

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers chasing their victim (their future s/o) and in the middle of the chase their s/o just stops to grab and protect a little animal thinking they were going to hurt them (like a pup or kitten) how would they react

Can you also make their s/o chubby?:)

Plz and Ty

I didn't quite know how to bring up that the reader is supposed to be chubby in this one but I definitely imagined a chubby reader while writing it.

Slashers when their future s/o is protecting a small animal from them

Warning: Animal Death/Animal Cruelty (not described in any detail but it is mentioned and implied)

Jason Voorhees

He has been chasing you around for a few minutes now, and you are slowly starting to get winded. Then there is the small stray cat, dirty and terribly malnourished. There are a few of them living around the lake, you know that much. And the cat is right between him and you.

Oh no, he’s gonna crush the poor thing, you think, and your protective instinct overrides your self-preservation. You rush to the cat, pick it up and run away again, not noticing that Jason stopped following you and is just staring after you with wide eyes.

You hide in one of the cabins, hoping to be able to catch your breath for a few seconds before having to run away again. Your new companion is meowing at you.

„Hush, you’re gonna give us away“, you whisper hectically, when a huge shadow falls over you. You look up, and your heart drops into your stomach.

That’s it, you’re going to die. Jason is already reaching for your neck… then his hand slips lower, gently patting the cat’s head.

„H...huh?“

He saw what you did, how you risked your own life to save that little creature… and he admires that. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.

Vincent Sinclair

The creature you try to protect ends up being Jonesy, ironically. You see her in the Sinclair house and you’re to stressed and scared to even consider the possibility that she belongs to the people chasing you.

„Come on, please, they’re going to hurt you too if they find us“, you say to the dog while desperately trying to get her to follow you. „Come on, little one, I won’t hurt you, I promise-“

Vincent appears from the next room, looking at you for a long time. Jonesy happily runs up to him, tail wagging.

„...Oh. She’s your dog. Well don’t I look stupid now.“

His shoulders begin twitching, accompanied by a suppressed chuckle. He manages not to fully burst out laughing, but he can’t help himself; your awkwardness is just so *endearing*. He may want to keep you around just for that. Alive, of course. You won’t be half as entertaining if you’re dead and covered in wax.

Freddy Krueger

Really? You’re willing to sacrifice your life for an imaginary *hamster*? He thought that letting you see a bit of his past would be fun, and of all the fucked up things that happened in his life, him killing the class hamster when he was a kid is the only thing you take issue with? Not the fact that he murdered his foster father? Not the fact that he murdered *children*? No? The hamster it is? Okay, then. You got damn weird priorities, but Freddy likes weird. Maybe killing you would really be a waste, so he lets you live… for now.

Brahms Heelshire

„Brahms Heelshire, you let that rat go right this instant!“

Brahms actually flinches and does as he is told. The rat quickly disappears somewhere; you’re not sure where.

Once he gets over the shock, he gives you a sour pout. „Why? It’s just a rat.“

„It’s a living, breathing, feeling being.“

„So are cows and we still eat them.“

„Oh I’m sorry, is this household doing so poor financially that we have to resort to eating rats now?“ You cross your arms in front of your chest. „Well?“

„No“, Brahms says between gritted teeth.

„I thought so.“ You know that scolding Brahms is a delicate task; being too lenient with him means he won’t learn his lesson, and being just the slightest bit too harsh with him will result in an angry outburst. And those can end deadly. But that’s what you signed up for when you agreed to become his nanny… right?

„Rats carry diseases though. They shouldn’t be in the house“, Brahms continues to argue.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. „Yes, that’s why we have the traps out in the garden, and another reason why you shouldn’t touch them. I don’t particularly like having to kill the rats at all, but the traps do so as quickly and as painlessly as possible. So even if they have to die for our safety, there is no, and I repeat, NO reason to torture them. Understood?“

Brahms has his chin pressed firmly onto his chest now; the tension in his body shows that he is getting frustrated. „Yes.“

Okay, time to ease off a little.

„That’s my good Brahms.“ You smile at him.

Bubba Sawyer

Another case of mistaking your would-be-killer’s pet for another potential victim. In this case, it is a chicken. When you saw the poor thing in this room, sorrounded by human bone furniture, you didn’t dare imagine what this family would do to it.

„Hey… nice chicken… good chicken…“

At first you don’t see Bubba lingering at the entrance of the chicken room, looking at you gently speaking to his favourite.

When you notice him, you immediately grab the chicken and nudge it to the questionable safety behind your back.

Bubba looks at you and licks his lips. You are so nice to his chickens. He likes that.

You flinch when he comes inside and kneels down in front of you, pulling the chicken from behind your back into his arms and holding it up to you to pet, like any proud pet-parent.

„Oh… they chickens are yours? They look pretty well taken care of, actually…“ That, and this one is so calm, despite being held by this behemoth of a man.

You reach out and run your hand over the soft feathers, making Bubba smile, delighted.

[mari-writes]

🐰💕

Bokuto loves rabbits.

They are second only to owls, he says, for his favorite animal ever.

“They’re just so cute, ‘kaashi!” He grins as they watch a small cottontail hop across the path in front of them. They’d been walking home from Fukurodani after another late night practice when Bokuto had spotted the creature. “And they can jump so far, just like me!”

Akaashi has to hold back his smile. “Have you ever had one as a pet, Bokuto-san?”

The other boy sighs. “No.” He’s crouched down, still watching the animal intently as it leaps into a bush. “My sisters had adopted a dog before I was born. My parents thought it was a bad idea to have both. I loved that pup, but I’ve always wanted a bunny!”

“Hmm." Akaashi nods. “Did you know that you can house train rabbits, Bokuto-san? So they can roam around the house independently. Almost like a cat.”

“Really?” Bokuto gasps. “That’s really cool! I never liked how people kept bunnies in tiny cages. They need space to hop around!”

“Agreed.”

Six years and one mutual confession later, Akaashi surprises Bokuto with a special anniversary gift.

“Oh my gosh.” The man’s eyes are wide when he sees where Akaashi had brought him: the local animal shelter, to pick out a bunny to adopt. “Are you serious, Keiji?!”

Akaashi smiles. “Very.” He follows his boyfriend into the facility and heads towards the rabbit room, where a volunteer instructs them to thoroughly wash their hands. She introduces them to each bunny, giving them information about how they arrived here and their personality.

“What’s this one’s name?” Bokuto asks, pointing into a kennel where a large tan rabbit is lounging. The animal has two long ears, one sticking up and the other pointing down. The quirk is charming.

“That’s Buttons. Four years old. She’s been with us for a while. She’s sweet, but a bit bigger than most of the other bunnies. A lot of the time families are looking for a baby, or a smaller breed…”

“She’s perfect!”

They bring Buttons home that day. After setting up her food and litter tray, as well as a comfy bed, they watch as she hops around their small living room, her body excitedly twitching at all of the new sights, sounds and smells.

Bokuto is obviously enamored. He lies on his stomach, at her level, grinning as she curiously explores the space.

She suddenly notices Bokuto, who goes very still as she approaches him hesitantly. Slowly, she stretches her neck out until the two of them just barely bump noses.

Akaashi’s heart clenches.

It takes a while for Buttons to get completely comfortable, but eventually, she relaxes into her new home. Occasionally, Akaashi will arrive home late from work and find his boyfriend on the couch, Buttons snuggled into his side or on his chest. 

It’s times like these that Akaashi remembers just how gentle Bokuto is. The man is tall and broad, known for his loud, overwhelming personality both on and off the volleyball court. It’s understandable that he might frighten away a skittish animal.

But it’s not the case. Bokuto’s gentle nature is one of Akaashi’s favorite things about him. The way he holds Buttons so carefully, his large hands tucking her in close. How he speaks softly to her.

It reminds Akaashi of how Bokuto acts around his nieces and nephews, and his young fans. He just seems to know exactly how much force and volume to use around them. Back in high school he had even befriended Yachi Hitoka, the most nervous person Akaashi had ever met.

One afternoon, on a rare day they both have off work, the three of them are lounging together on the couch. Akaashi looks down at Buttons, who is snoozing contentedly on the cushion between them. He smiles. 

“She seems to like it here,” he says, reaching out to scratch her between the shoulders. Her fur is soft to the touch. 

“Yeah,” Bokuto breathes. His hand is suddenly on Akaashi’s, squeezing it slightly. Akaashi takes the hint, moving his palm to thread their fingers together. He squeezes back. 

“Thank you again, Keiji,” he says, quietly, and Akaashi turns to meet his boyfriend’s soft gaze. “I love her so much.”

He leans in, his lips finding Bokuto’s in a soft kiss. “I’m glad. And me too. I never expected to have a rabbit, but I definitely understand the appeal now. They’re wonderful.”

“Especially Buttons!”

Akaashi chuckles. “Especially Buttons.”

Bokuto and Akaashi go on to have many pets throughout the course of their lives together: a few cats and dogs, a couple of lizards, even some chickens when they move to a more rural home on the outskirts of Osaka after Bokuto retires. 

But it’s always special when they adopt rabbits. 

They make sure the first pet they get for their daughter is a bunny, which teaches her how to be gentle and kind to something so vulnerable. Akaashi reads to her the myth of the Rabbit on the Moon, and about how she was born in the Year of the Rabbit–granting her an extra lucky life.

“Papa, how do I know if Marshmallow loves me?” Their daughter asks, carefully petting the bunny’s white coat. 

“It’s about trust,” Bokuto smiles. “She trusts you enough to hold her, to not hurt her, to feed and care for her. Rabbits learn to love through trust.”

He glances at Akaashi, who smiles back warmly and nods. 

“That’s love.”

//

Happy Year of the Rabbit! 🐇❤️ Buttons is based on my first pet, a big bunny with the same funny looking ears. I miss her. Please, if you enjoyed this, comment and share! It really helps. Also, I recently launched a ko-fi if you’d like to support me there! 

[ruthlesslistener]

So when I was little I was like. Deathly afraid of snakes. Terrified and awful at even being around them. A sharp contrast to my sister who at the ripe age of 10 would happily want to hold and touch snakes, even if she really shouldn’t. (She’d over turn logs and wood to look at the babies? Little snakes curled up under them. Much to my horror.)

Anyways around 14 I started trying to get over it, bc my rational brain had kicked in and I knew they weren’t any real threat to me. They were just creatures trying to live and explore safely as well yknow? I held a snake at that age for the first time and I actually enjoyed it. Wasn’t frighten and was proud of myself for not freaking out about it despite it being v new and nerve wracking. (In the years following with trying to connect with Mother Nature I’d also be trying to breath and get myself to not freak about being close to spiders and some other bugs. Still. Working on those.)

Since then I haven’t had access to snakes in front of me. High school didn’t have any science teachers with snakes and I’m in a city for college so even worrying about them being in the brush is gone. So my fear/progress with snakes had largely gone dormant. But! You keep posting snakes and esp your thoughts and experiences with Juniper and it’s?? Really?? Helped me wrap my head around being cool with snakes. They’re funky noodle creatures. They’re pretty chill usually. They’re creatures with habits and personalities like anything else. Just noodle shaped. No more dangerous than a dog or cat really, maybe even less so considering big dog breeds. Arguably prettier than a lot of dogs too.

Idk it’s just been nice hearing about Juniper. She sounds like such a delightful noodle to live with honestly. And hearing about your experiences with her has grounded snakes back into reality instead of Evil Serpent Creature Of The Brush. So thanks for that ig✨✨

!!! I've just had this sitting in my inbox for a couple days now because I genuinely couldn't come up with the words to answer it. I've loved snakes all my life but was raised by a parent who was and still is scared shitless of them, so being able to reduce some of that terror by just nerding out about them?? That really made my week.

Now, if you want some more fun info about my experiences with them that ground them even further into 'this is just a little guy' territory:

Snakes are hands-down one of the most gentle, least-capable-of-evil vertebrates that I've ever worked with (which to be fair, includes parrots and rabbits so we've got a high bar here), primarily because they seem to only experience a few emotions: fear, hunger, curiosity, and contentment, and each of those motivations take up the entire braincell currently running at the moment. Which is likely far more simplistic than what we give them credit for- they can be very clever little things when they want!- but what surprised and delighted me the most after getting Juniper (even with all the research I did!!) was just how much curiosity takes up that one active braincell. Snakes are very frightened, sensitive beings, but when they feel secure enough for it, they are SUPER inquisitive. Everytime after 7, Juniper will poke her head out of her hide, and will actively watch me go about my nighttime routine until I settle or she gets bored enough to fall asleep. When I take her out, her primary mission is to explore wherever she can, investigating every little change in her environment before coming back to me to coil up under my crossed legs (or trying to wedge behind the bookshelf). They're often flagged as simple animals, and their emotions likely are quite primitive, but there's just a certain sort of joy that one gains from watching an animal explore her surroundings and seeing the little gears turning in her brain that makes it click just how similar we are to each other, even after years of evolution, and how magical it is that she has grown to understand that I am harmless enough for me to be a familiar anchor point when something New and Scary but also very Intruiguing comes along. And it's delightful to interact with her and see that realization click into place, and to also know that I wouldn't get a bite from it without great warning. Because snakes only bite when scared or hungry, and she is neither scared of me nor mistakes me for her dinner. That's a marked difference from interacting with parrots or rabbits, and also much less painful of a bite prospect- snakes do not have big beaks or jaws made for crushing through wooden materials, with sharp edges that slice right into your flesh. They've just got a whole bunch of little pinprick teethers, and no bite force whatsoever to hold it up. A bite is much less scary and much less likely to happen from a nonvenomous snake than from most other animals

(They can presumably also get angry, but the only time I've ever seen an angry snake was a very territorial, horny male in breeding season who'd mistake hands for othet snakes. Even then, all he'd do is push at them with his coils or grumpily shove at the hand with his face. No striking! Just the snake equivilant of hip-nudging.)

Something else about Juniper that really surprised me when I first got her- snakes aren't born knowing how to eat! They've got the instinct to strike at food and coil it, but the actual size they need to strike, amount they need to coil to kill the prey, and which way to gulp it down is a process learned by trial and error. Some can bonk their wee faces too hard on the strike and scare themselves so bad that it stops them from eating; some will try endlessly to eat a rat from the side or the ass end and then get so frustrated by their efforts that they give up. Juniper, luckily, is not either of those- she's a garbage disposal of a ball python, one that'll eat anything as long as it's not covered in substrate- but she was terrible at striking when she was little, terrible at figuring out how to eat said prey, and is still pretty terrible at wrapping her meals, like any proper snake should. I got her eating frozen/thawed when she was only 75g, so it's likely that she's never learned how to kill prey, and so sometimes she just...doesn't even try. I can't ever give this girl a live rat!! She doesn't know how to kill it like a proper python!!! And that's just so very funny to me. It really shows you that snakes aren't instinct-driven killing machines like people say, but animals equipped with a basic understanding of what they need to do and no actual experience on how to do it. She's at least figured out how to eat her reheated rats facefirst like a normal snake should, without enthusiastically trying to chow down on it from the side, but the way she's learned to manouver it against her body until she finds the right way it needs to go took almost an entire year of practice. And it's fascinating to see her do it, as she'll often use her own coils to help push her food to where she wants it to go. It might seem callous to state how much I enjoy watching my snake eat, especially since I love rodents, but the clear enjoyment/enthusiasm she gets out of a meal and the way she problem solves to get it in a configuration where she can eat it shows just how much more is going on upstairs than what we think, and that's super cool to me

(She also wipes her face after meals! Usually because a bit of substrate gets caught in her mouth and she hates the feel, but I've seen her do it even when nothing is in her mouth. She'll go up to one of her rougher pieces of decor, then carefully wipe her face on it, one side after another, just like how people do with napkins. I'm not sure if this is to help realign her jaws or if the fur of it tickles her face when no subtrate is in her mouth, but it is extremely cute)

Anyways, I'm so very happy that I've been able to use my love for snakes to help you appreciate them better! Here's a couple pictures of Juniper for you, taken when she was just hanging on my lap chillin while I called my family (or crawling over me so that she can get a good scope of the new apartment)

[cerealmonster15]

bros don’t put that “hamsters are connected to having fate of gruesome death” post on my dash I don’t wanna SEE IT ❌❌❌

[from-a-reckless-writer]

iv. couch.

read on ao3

To Lena: r u busy??? U didnt answer my calls. Dinner later?

To Lena: my place.

To Lena: Or yours! Can totally go to urs. If u want.

To Lena: Lena????

To Lena: where are u??

To Lena: Answer my calls

To Lena: Pls?

Kara rounds the corner of her hallway, keys bitten, dangling from her lips, as she types with both hands. Her 67th text message of the day to an MIA Lena Luthor sent. She fails to notice the creature lurking around the front of her door; dark fur shining under the cheap LED lights of Kara’s corridor.

She’s still deeply absorbed in her phone with worry, in the middle of jamming her keys in with one hand, when something furry brushes against her legs and Kara yelps.

She pulls the knob clean out of the wood in shock, her phone dropping to the floor loudly, the cat doing a duet with her with a startled yowl of her own.

Heart hammering and adrenaline racing, Kara looks down and sees the cat for the first time.

“Oh! Oh!” she gasps, “I didn’t see you there, buddy. I’m sorry for startling you!! I didn’t mean it.”

The door knob clatters loudly to the ground as it falls out of her grasp. And Kara sheepishly feels guilty for the hole in her door. But the cat meows loudly, catching her attention, as if in response to her apology.

She crouches down low, and reaches out a hand to touch the furball. She snaps a quick pic, sends it to Lena and pockets her phone.

To Lena: KITTY!!

“Oh, oh come here,” she coos, “where’s your collar? How’d you get here huh?”

The cat reminds her of Streaky. The first stray who ever took to her kindly. Although upon closer inspection, Kara realizes this one has striking emeralds for eyes, Streaky’s eyes were a more softer blue.

The cat surprisingly seems friendly, immediately leaning into Kara’s touch. Nosing at the inside of Kara’s wrist and it’s such a familiar gesture but she can’t seem to remember why.

And...oh, a small rumbling echoes through Kara’s palm!

Oh, they’re purring!

Kara doesn’t know how long she stays there crouched low exactly, but eventually, she stands up, takes her hand away, and picks up the damaged doorknob.

“Well, time for you to go home now, buddy,” she tells them, giving their head one last pat before dusting off her hands on her jacket.

“Go on, shooo. Shoo. Go home. I’m sure your human is looking for you.”

But the cat remains unmoving. It looks like they’ve decided to sit firmly in front of Kara’s doorstep, casually licking a paw, as if waiting for Kara to open her door.

“Are you actually waiting for me to open my door?” Kara makes a mental note to thank Rao that none of her neighbors can see her trying to hold a proper conversation with a cat.

“Look, kitty,” she says firmly, “I’m not your human.”

The cat just blinks owlishly at her. Eyes too green, too intelligent and-

Kara makes up her mind.

She turns her face skywards, takes a deep breath (This will probably backfire, she already knows. But she's always had a soft spot for strays.) and then she pushes her door wide open.

The cat races inside, cutting through Kara’s legs and almost tripping her.

“Well, somebody’s excited,” Kara mutters under her breath, she watches the cat head for her living room couch; watches as they pause all of a sudden, changes course and jumps onto Kara’s coffee table instead.

Where the cat then proceeds to knock down everything in close vicinity, even the picture frame of her and Lena together.

“Hey! No! Bad kitty-”

But the cat is already hopping down from her pedestal, landing on the frame directly.

And then things get weird.

The cat proceeds to stomp all over it, meows loud, like really loud; insanely loud for a cat their size.

Her paw seems to be almost pointing? At the other person in the frame.

“I-” Kara seems taken aback by the bizarre behavior, sure she knows cats are vastly different from dogs, but this…

This is just weird.

The cat’s meowing only seems to get louder.

How you land yourselves in these situations, Kara. I really just don’t know, at this point. She can almost hear Alex say.

“What are you- Are you- are you pointing? That’s- That’s Lena, yeah. That’s my best friend.”

At that, the cat seems to vibrate. They start clawing at Kara’s pant leg, meowing and meowing and meowing—

And then it hits her.

"-but it turns out that she’s a witch. And apparently, so am I."

The green, green eyes.

A pink nose nuzzling against her wrist.

“Lena?”

******

“Oh, Rao! Lena you’re a cat! What happened?! Oh, no, baby what did you do?”

Lena-

Lena The Cat—and okay, so she’s still wrapping her head around that one—just stays silent. She’s sitting on her lap, looking regal than any cat has any right to be. A judgmental look in her eyes.

Lena’s a cat. Cat’s can’t speak. Can’t answer Kara’s questions.

“Right. Sorry. Only meow,” Kara murmurs, embarrassed. For some reason even in cat form Lena manages to be intimidating.

“Okay so, uh d-does that mean you still understand me? Two meows for yes. One meow for no.”

Kara gets two meows.

“Okay, cool, cool. Great. You can still understand me, that's good.” Kara runs a hand down her spine, “Gosh, your fur is just so soft.”

She hears Lena give a small growl, body tensing, “Right. Right. Sorry. Not the time for pets.” Kara retracts her hand away.

“Uhm, so next question then, I guess? D-did you become a cat this morning? Were you testing out your uhm...gift?”

Lena meows twice. Kara nods, clenching and unclenching her fist underneath her chin. Fingers itching to run themselves through Lena’s soft fur again. Lena seems to sense this, and nuzzles her face into Kara’s hand, bumps against her repeatedly.

“Really?” Kara double-checks, giddy. If she were human Kara bets Lena would be rolling her eyes like she always does when Kara does something particularly dorky, but she just pushes her head firmer against Kara’s hand and meows twice.

“So uhm,” she starts, cautiously, noting Lena’s increasing purr, “is there like a spellbook for this or something? Something that can help you transform back?

Lena meows yes.

“Is it in The Tower or back at your place?”

There are no responses.

“Sorry, sorry lemme rephrase, is it in The Tower?”

She gets two consecutive meows.

Okay, to The Tower it is.

******

“Are you going to tell me why you’re cradling a cat in your cape or??” Alex raises a brow at her, a hand on her hip, left foot tapping impatiently. Her sister was heading out for the day, it looks like. It was just tough luck that Supergirl landed one minute before the elevator took Alex.

Crap. Now they have to explain. They didn’t talk about this. Lena still hasn’t told her if it was okay to tell people about her gift.

“I-I rescued it,” Kara says.

Well, that isn’t so far from the truth, right? She stares at the bundle in her arms, Lena the traitor staying silent all the while—green eyes shining all innocent at Kara.

Alex’s stares intensifies.

“From a tree,” Kara flounders, and Lena The Cat has the audacity to yawn, squirm and jump away from her arms. She lands gracefully, tail swishing up in the air and heads straight for the lab.

Alex eyes the cat suspiciously before turning back to Kara. She jabs a finger to her chest. “It better not have any fleas. It better not touch my training mat.”

“She won’t.”

Alex just shakes her head, rolls her eyes, grabs her helmet and walks to the elevator.

Before she goes though, Alex says, “You know, this is gonna sound weird, but I swear I think I saw that same cat slinking out of The Tower earlier this morning.”

“Alex, she’s literally a black cat. There are hundreds of black cats in the city.”

“You're being weirdly defensive about this. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not.”

Alex seems like she wants to say more, but the elevator dings, and she’s never been more grateful that Kelly makes Alex pick her up from work. Alex huffs out breath, before conceding and disappearing into the lift.

******

The camera flash is what gets Kara busted.

But is it really her fault if she walked in on a cute kitty, hunched over, meowing adorably, trying to flip over the pages of a thick spellbook, with her teeny-tiny bean paws?

Lena hisses at her, teeth-bared and fur puffy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But you were just really, really, really cute okay?” She walks closer to the desk, carefully lifts a hand and scratches Lena behind the ear.

The hissing slowly devolves into purring, and Kara grins triumphantly. Lena lets herself be picked up after a few moments, Kara leafing through the pages for her.

“So, found anything yet?” She asks, cradling Lena close to her chest. A warm weight on Kara’s arms, and as much as she wants to get her real Lena back, she also isn’t too eager on giving up this version anytime soon. Then again, Kara thinks, it would be impossible for her to give up any version of Lena Luthor.

“Spell? Charm? Anything? Do you need to make a potion? Are we gonna get to make a potion? Oh, oh do you need a wand? Do you have a wa-”

Kara’s words get muffled as two black paws press against her lips. Lena’s green eyes narrowing at her. She meows at Kara. Loudly.

“Mkay, mkay. Shut up. Got it.”

Lena removes her paws, and Kara makes a gesture of zipping her lips together. This seems to appease Lena enough because the next second, a pink tongue darts out and she...licks Kara's nose.

“Did you- did you just lick me?” Kara gasps out.

Lena doesn’t even acknowledge her with a meow, just turns away and jumps out of her arms again. Before Kara can do anything about it though, her phone rings.

The screen lighting up with Andrea’s name.

“Danvers, I’ve got a story for you.”

******

“Alex, please, I’ll be quick. I promise. I’ll only be three hours at the most. Please just look after her,” she pleads, pouting and puppy eyes in full power.

It also helps that the cat burrito in her cape looks to be cooperating. Lena The Cat staring at Alex with wide round eyes.

Apparently, some governor was found dead downtown, and now Andrea wants her on the scene. She can’t just leave Lena all alone in The Tower. No matter how hard Lena’s been protesting, this is brand new territory for both of them. Nobody knows the extent of Lena’s powers.

Point is, Kara would feel a lot better if she were to leave Lena under the care of someone she trusts. Even if said someone, accuses Lena of being a stray with fleas. It's still better than leaving Lena all on her own.

“Ugh.” Alex groans and Kara knows she’s won. “If this cat causes trouble I will throw it out the window, Kara.”

“No!” Kara yells, distressed. “Don’t do that. She’ll behave. She promises.”

She puts her hand under Lena’s arms and raises her up to eye level—Simba style. “You promise to be good for Alex, don’t you?”

All she gets is a lot of squirming and screaming, there were also a lot of attempts at scratching Kara’s nose.

“See?” Kara says, chuckling nervously. “She’s telling you she’s good.”

Alex looks skeptical, her arms crossed against her chest.

Kara sets her down on the couch, and crouches down low.

She tries to pet her head, but Lena bites at her finger, she catches her teeth on the skin of her supersuit’s thumb slot. She bites deeper, her teeth accomplishing nothing but a few dents.

And oh, Rao she thinks she’s such a feral little cat but her pink adorable gummy snarl says otherwise.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back. I promise,” she whispers, careful not to let Alex hear. “And then we’ll figure it out later, okay? The safest place for you right now is to be with Alex.”

She really doesn’t want to go, and based on Lena’s protests she doesn’t want Kara to go either. But well, Andrea had finally threatened to fire her if she disobeyed...which is...fair.

She’s aware she’s been doing a less than stellar job at being a journalist lately. Rao, what an understatement. This is basically her make it or break it.

“Look, I’ll be quick, promise. Be good to Alex,” Kara murmurs. She presses a kiss on Lena’s furry forehead. Lena finally unclenches her jaw and lets Kara go. The little whine she lets out, letting Kara know that she knows the battle’s lost.

“Both of you, be good,” Kara tells them sternly. “Alex, please don’t yeet my cat out of the window.”

Alex shrugs, staring at the cat with suspicion. “I make no promises.’

Lena is staring at Alex just as hostile. Great. They both deserve each other.

Kara sighs exasperatedly. Well, at least she tried.

******

She gets a very angry Alex Danvers on the line, right after she’s finished talking to some sources. It’s nighttime now, and when she checks her watch—yep, she’s left Lena in Alex’s care for more than six hours.

Crap.

“Hey, Al—”

“KARA IF YOU DON’T PICK UP THIS THIS THIS GODDAMNED HAIRBALL RIGHT NOW, YOU WILL NEVER SEE IT EVER AGAIN.”

There is loud meowing, and then, “What the- Get off! Get off me right no-”

The line clicks dead.

Kara Danvers quickly changes into an alley, manages to break the sound barrier.

******

It’s Kelly who opens the door.

“Hey, Kara,” she greets her. Kara is impatiently rocking on her heels, trying to peer past Kelly’s shoulders.

The place was quiet; ridiculously quiet, and Kara feels fear swoop in her belly.

“Please, tell me my cat is still alive,” Kara bursts out, Kelly just gives her a pained smile and oh, no, oh no.

She muscles her way past Kelly to a brooding Alex on the couch.

Lena is nowhere to be seen.

“Alex, Alex where’s my cat? Where is she? Where did you put her?”

Alex finally looks up at her, Kara taking notice of the red marks on her arm.

Oh no, Lena, what did you do?

“Calm down, I didn’t throw the little demon away. She’s-" Alex sing-songs before finishing, "on time-out.”

“Time-out?” Kara asks, voice shaking. Rao, does she really want to know.

Alex takes too long to answer, taking a swig of her beer first before pointing to a corner in the living room.

And there, she spots it.

It, being a small pile of laundry on the floor, next to an upside down hamper. A big white hamper housing one Lena Luthor. There's a crude cardboard sign stuck on it; "Kitty Jail". Alex has also stacked a few encyclopedia on top of it, no doubt an attempt to keep Lena from escaping.

“Oh! Oh, Lena!”

Kara superspeeds her way and scoops Lena up, the cat meowing immediately and curling into Kara’s chest.

“You named the cat after Lena?!”

Crap.

Kara turns around slowly, “Uhm yeah?”

Alex just shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Her eyes reminded me of Lena, okay?!” Kara yells defensively, pressing tiny kisses onto Lena’s fur.

“I’m sorry that Alex has been such a meanie to you," she coos, "I know you didn’t deserve it, baby."

Alex seems to perk up at that, because she raises up from the couch. “That,” Alex jabs a finger in their direction, Kara cradles Lena protectively, “That baby ruined my couch and she so totally deserves all the mean! All the mean in the world, Kara!”

Lena hisses in her arms.

“No, no. That’s not true. Lena is baby and she’s perfect and you’re just a meanie.”

“She ruined my upholstery! She left hair all over the place and that’s not even to mention the scratching!”

“Because you were mean to her!”

Alex scoffs, eyes bulging wide in disbelief.

“Get out,” Alex says, her brows pinching comically, “Get out of my apartment before that little devil causes more damage.”

“Gladly,” Kara says, and Lena meows her assent. They make their way past Alex, Kara unaware that Lena has stuck out her little tongue at Alex over her shoulder.

“And she’s not a little devil!” Kara calls out.

Alex slams the door in her face.

******

That evening, Kara pores over a thick spellbook, eyes swimming with Latin symbols with a purring machine on her lap.

By midnight, Kara has managed to pass out on her couch, a black cat curled on her chest.

The spellbook lay open on her coffee table, forgotten.

******

The first sight that greets Kara when she wakes up are green eyes.

Green human eyes.

And then it hits her.

“Lena!”

The spell had blessedly wore off by morning, and Kara’s never been more glad to see the sunlight lighting up Lena’s face.

For a moment, Kara’s assaulted with the mental image of laying in a pool of sunlight with a black cat stretching leisurely next to her.

“Good morning,” Lena purrs, and oh Rao, that sound is much, much better than her meowing.

“You’re back!” Kara gasps in awe.

“I’m back,” she whispers, she’s still draped fully over Kara on the couch. A blanket covering them both.

“Rao, I missed you.” A palm comes up to cup her cheeks, Lena automatically nuzzling into the inside of her wrist.

“Mm, I missed me, too,” Lena tells her, face breaking into a small smile. Kara traces her fingers up and down Lena’s spine. Oh, how she’s missed touching Lena’s skin.

Wait-

Skin.

Is she-

“Lena,” Kara begins, swallowing. Her nerves not going unnoticed.

Lena raises a brow at her. “Kara?”

“Are you- uhm- ah. Are you naked right now?”

Lena’s eyes light up like a cat’s and Kara knows she’s in trouble.

“Mm. It seems that I am,” Lena says, and all Kara can do is gulp.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

special shoutout to @mike-wachowski, @sexybread-png and @thebreakfastgod for their cat expertise without whom this silly little fic would not be written.

[soulofapatrick]

The Pack Realises You’re in Love With Derek Hale 1/5

PARRISH - Peter Thornberry's POV:

I hear the window slide open and someone lands easily on their feet, the familiar creak of the window being shut again follows before the person just stops. I don't care who it is, I just need a supernatural break and I've told the whole pack this via a group message but I guess that doesn't matter. They want to bother me so guess what... they're bothering me.

"Do I not get one single day off?!" I can't help the anger seeping through my voice as I spin the desk chair, expecting to see Scott or Lydia, maybe even Jackson who has been making more and more visits recently but instead it's Parrish. All that frustration immediately is gone at the sight of his face and the amount of conflicting emotions in his chartreuse green eyes as he shuffles, "Parrish." I finally breathe out.

"I'm sorry, I can go..." He heads back for the window but I reach out, catching the sleeve of his jacket to stop him because my supernatural day off can wait. His gaze meets mine and he smiles sheepishly, looking unsure of himself and my hand holding his arm now, "Peter?"

"Come on, tell me what's wrong," I pull myself from the very comfortable spinny chair Noah got me when I started at Beacon Hills High with most of the pack just over a year ago, "I thought you were Scott honestly, he's been bothering me a lot recently as he's confused about his alpha status."

"I-" Jordan opens his mouth before closing it again, so I wait until he finally speaks up, "Lydia told me you were the person to go to if I needed help and I also heard you make some kick-ass hot chocolate."

"And who told you that huh?" I lead the police officer downstairs and towards the living room, his hand in mine that is really soft for someone who can set themselves on fire and be okay. He lets out a chuckle and I know my attempt at distractions is working. Jordan doesn't even seem to notice when I push him gently into a seat at the table, letting go of his hand, and going into the kitchen to begin the hot chocolate.

"Malia," He finally tells me as I decide to ignore the quick and easy kettle method of hot chocolate. Instead I heat up a pan, breaking up chocolate to melt and make the drink creamier because honestly, something tells me Jordan isn't taking to the supernatural world very well. I hope dogs like cream as well as cats, "She's been joining me on my patrols. I'm not sure how she does it really," He pauses, causing me to glance in his direction as he fumbles for the words, I just wait, "How she stays so composed. So... human."

"Practice," I reply, remembering how much Stiles worked with Malia to make her at least somewhat human. Nolan being turned actually helped her lot because she was forced to explain it all to someone else who could somewhat understand her, "And Nolan. Also an anchor."

"Anchor?"

"Someone or thing that tethers you to your human side. Every supernatural creature needs on, even me and I'm only an emissary." I explain, internally scolding myself because of course no-one's taught Jordan about anchors and how to control the shifts. I'm not sure if anyone even thought to because of everything that's happened over the last year. Yeah no, the look on his face says that I've spoken a completely foreign language to him so instead of embellishing I silently pass him his hot chocolate, letting him process it all first because anchors can be a lot if you've only just learnt about the supernatural but Jordan is strong.

"What's your anchor?" The hellhound finally speaks up, eyes raising from his drink to meet mine, "Or who, I guess."

"Mine?" He nods, "Mine is Derek. Derek Hale is my anchor."

"Derek..." Jordan doesn't finish his sentence as the cogs begin to turn in his head, "Derek Hale is your anchor because you love him?"

"I..." I'm not exactly sure how to reply because of course he hits the nail on the head immediately, "Yes, Derek's my anchor because I care for him. He keeps me grounded when I have to draw all that emissary power."

"Does it have to be a person?"

"Of course not, Derek's anchor is his anger."

"Derek's anchor isn't you?" Jordan again catches me off guard, "He has no idea how you feel?"

"N-"

"THE LIVING ROOM IS MINE!" Stiles comes racing through the front door, it slamming shut with a crash so loud that it makes even my human ears hurt, "THE METS ARE PLAYING AND THEY'RE WINNING SO SHIFT!" He's bouncing on the spot so I sigh fondly at my (adopted) brother's hyperactive nature before grabbing Jordan's hand again to take him back upstairs, "THANK YOU PETEY!" Stiles grins at me, practically giggling when I roll my eyes and tug Jordan back upstairs with me.

He eyes the bed and I've had most of the pack join me at some point so without a second thought I'm helping Jordan out of his jacket and telling him to get comfortably undressed, to help himself to any of my clothes as we're around the same height and to get into bed as he can stay here tonight. He hesitates until I'm giving him a pointed look and climbing under the freezing covers, wanting the hellhound to hurry up and join me. Finally Jordan starts to move, kicking his shoes off then the trousers before sliding into bed beside me, all that awkwardness I thought he'd gotten over coming back.

"Come here dumbass," I shake my head affectionately, pulling him into the centre of the bed and forcing him to roll over so I can spoon him because no guy will admit it but it's comforting being the little spoon sometimes.

It only takes a few minutes of Jordan shuffling awkwardly before all tension in his body disappears and he's whispering, "I want Lydia as my anchor."

"Then make her your anchor." I murmur back, already half asleep with the warmth radiating off of him and my forehead pressed against the back of his neck, arm loosely around his waist and one of my feet between his. That's how we fall asleep,

In the morning I wake to Parrish gone but a sticky note stuck to a soft looking purple sweater saying: 'it's fire retardant so if you even need to stop me. Do it. Love Parrish xxx'

Part 2 // Part 3 //  Part 4 // Part 5

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Mythology AU post no one asked for!

In this AU, all of the animatronics are creatures based on folklore and mythology and are a mix of things that are obvious choices and not so obvious. The characters all live in a forested mountain that humans have yet to learn how to scale and any attempts to do so are typically thwarted by those that live there if not by their inability to climb it in the first place.

So what is everybody?

Freddy is an escaped circus bear. I couldn’t find any interesting mythological bears so he gets more of a backstory to him than the others do. He’s a regular bear that escaped from the Fazbear Circus that was held at the foot of the mountain, possibly unintentionally freed by a certain pair of reckless flyers we’ll get to in a minute. He saw his chance and ran for the hills, still wearing his circus neck ruffles and what not. He just happened to scale a bit of the mountain and make some magic friends that just kinda picked him up and decided he’s their friend now. He is very happy about this arrangement because honestly fuck the Fazbear Circus.

Bonnie is a Wolpertinger (or a Jackalope. I’ve been alternating on this lately) and that means he is a rabbit/hare, with antlers and wings. He was born and raised on these mountains or the mountain adjacent maybe and lives in a really big warren. Also possibly has fangs? I will leave that to interpretation.

Chica is a gryphon, a mix of big cat and big bird. She’s a mix of leopard and kinda chicken I guess and is one of the reckless flyers that may have freed Freddy from the circus. She’s very close with everyone and can make a fun collection of both bird and leopard noises.

Foxy was supposed to not be a kitsune but the best I could find for him was a Chinese Fox Spirit so that is what he is. Got a bunch of tails and does cool paranormal stuff. His tricks only escalate in this AU he can do so much more stuff now. Still has a fun accent though because I said so and its fun

Monty is a Western dragon so not the serpent kind. Can breathe fire and is a very strong flyer. He’s from a different mountain and is a bit of a wanderer in the Gatorbun fic. He’s got horns and his scales aren’t as protective as they probably should be. Also has a big fluffy red mane and deep green and yellow scales with an extra tuft of fluff at the end of his tail.

Roxy is an Aralez, which is an unspecified dog with wings, said to be able to revive people left on the mountains by licking their wounds to heal them. The most obvious option would have been a hellhound but I found this and thought it would be much more interesting and handy in plots. She’s the other reckless flyer that possibly freed Freddy from the circus and like Chica, is always getting caught up in human traps here there and everywhere. She’s either a winged wolf or a winged husky or something it doesn’t particularly matter she’s still Roxy whether she be a domestic dog or a wild one.

Sunny and Moon are both Cat-sìth's. One blesses those that are nice to them and the other causes problems on purpose. Sometimes they switch for fun. They’re basically just extra fun cats that can do cool things like Foxy can.

DJ Music Man is the equivalent of the Loch Ness Monster. He’s this big ass water monster that lives in the lake on this mountain and the minis are his little sea serpent buddies. He made friends with Freddy, Chica or Roxy who fell in the lake maybe and now the group hang out more at the lake and sing together. DJ doesn’t speak so they nickname him Melody because he loves playing melodies on big conch shells and stuff. All the little serpents have similar nicknames too.

Vanessa is a cabbit which is apparently a mix between a rabbit and a cat. I chose this mostly because I didn’t know it was a thing and it sounded fun. I also wanted to include her so here she is! A cabbit!

Humans - particularly the Fazbear Circus - are always trying to catch an actual rare creature and not just a big ol’ bear so they set up a lot of traps to catch them much closer to the foot of the mountain. Which is why the number one rule is not to go down the mountain. This is often ignored by many of the flying creatures.

This is just a fun lil AU I’ll dabble in every so often because its fun so I thought I’d make a little post about it. Enjoy!

[twsthoodstar]

Twst x Pokémon Pt. 3

This is a part 3 of the last Pokémon post I did, this time with the vice dorm leaders. Sorry this is so late, I’ve been feeling under the weather recently 😓 But I’m starting to feel better now.

Request/idea received from this Anon

Babysitting their crush’s Pokémon while they’re away. However, that task has proven more difficult than expected.

Trey Clover ♣️

Trey was both delighted and nervous when you asked him to babysit Slurpuff. He had only hoped it wouldn’t be as troublesome as certain glutinous monster cat, although he had to admit he was curious. Slurpuff looked so soft and squishy! It couldn’t be that much of a handful could it?

Well needless to say, Slurpuff was actually very helpful in the kitchen. It’s unique sense of smell helped pick the best ingredients and it was more than happy to aid in assembling the treats for the Unbirthday Party, nudging Trey to taste the batter. It reminded Trey of his little siblings back home, how they’d always try and sneak a piece.

However, it all went downhill once the part started. One by one everyone’s cakes and cookies disappeared without a trace. Unaware of the pink Pokémon sneakily using Physic to float the wonderful pastries into its mouth. But it’s cover was blown when it tried to steal Riddle’s tart, and Trey had to step in before the poor little thing lost its head.

Ruggie Bucchi 🐾

Better hope Ruggie doesn’t eat your precious little bundle of wool, might be hard to hold himself back. Shi shi shi, he’s only kidding! He wouldn’t do that to you! Unfortunately, Wooloo seemed to take that very personally and rolled away! It hadn’t even been 5 minutes and Ruggie was already chasing it down!

Poor Wooloo; perhaps leaving it in a dorm full of hungry carnivores wasn’t the greatest idea. Because it zoomed all over the place, trying to flee from any large beastmen. Though I’m sure it looked hilarious seeing the vice dorm leader chasing after a living pillow. Ruggie eventually needed Jack’s help in catching the little guy, and it surprisingly took a liking to the first year!

Wooloo was all over Jack, hiding behind his legs and nuzzling into his bushy tail. Peering at Ruggie with big nervous eyes. He hadn’t planned for this, Ruggie wanted to show you just how responsible he was all on his own, that included caring for your pet. But it couldn’t be helped. Jack hadn’t planned to babysit, but it seemed he had no other choice.

Jade Leech 🐬

(I love Psyduck so much 🥰)

Now Psyduck here is a bit of a special case, so you were a bit hesitant to leave it with Jade. Now there was nothing to worry about, Jade makes sure your Psyduck is well taken care of, he’ll pamper it to perfection. He has claimed he enjoys serving others. Although it appears Psyduck is a rather sensitive creature. But that just makes things more interesting, plus it’s adorable to boot.

Constantly rubbing it’s head, it takes in its surroundings rather slowly. It barely realized you left the room and was just recently waddling around looking for you, poor dear. 😅 Well this shouldn’t be a problem; playtime with rubber duckies, drawing a bath, Jade makes sure Psyduck is in top shape until you get back! However, there was one mishap Jade wasn’t preparing for.

It takes special skill to escape Jade’s well trained eye, and Psyduck just happened to find that perfect moment. Before it knocked into Jade’s terrarium, spilling out all kinds of plants and muck onto the floor with a big bump on its head. It was an accident, but Psyduck couldn’t shake that sudden glare in the eel’s eye. Not even when Jade rubbed its bruised head affectionately.

Floyd Leech 🦈

Oh boy, Gible was not happy about you leaving. Especially leaving its care to a stranger like Floyd. It stomped around and grumbled like a fussy toddler, aggressive to anyone that came near it. While everyone was afraid of getting their hand chewed off, Floyd remained as careless and as brave as ever. So Shrimpy left this little sharkie to be his playmate? How fun!

Gible did not want to play with Floyd, it tried making that as clear as possible. Playing basketball? Deflated. Some squeaky toys? Shredded to pieces. Dancing? It chomped the radio to bits. A yummy platter? Scarfed it down, plate and all. Floyd was clearly losing his patience and started to shift into one of his outrageously random mood swings.

Talk about bad timing when you have an angry Gible pouting across the room. Floyd, now upset the Pokémon wasn’t accepting his friendship, made the mistake of trying to squeeze it. Gible bit him 😬. Chomped right down on his hand, but suprisingly Floyd was fine. It did take Azul and Jade awhile to pry it off, then to keep Floyd from biting back! Hopefully, you’ll return soon before the Lounge ends up in shambles.

Jamil Viper 🐍

Honestly Jamil thinks your Salandit is super cool. Sly and cunning with a streak of mystery, it reminds him of himself. (You smug snake 😑) It was almost the perfect pet for himself, a powerful on way that. Now I’m sure Jamil has some experience with animals, he is Kalim’s right hand man and a servant of the Asim family, the kid knows a thing or two about parades.

So it’s a cake walk babysitting Salandit, at least for the most part. Pokémon are unpredictable creatures and unknown to Twisted Wonderland, so Jamil’s in for a big surprise when Salandit starts dripping actual v e n o m. The red liquid oozes out of its mouth as it starts to burn small holes in the carpet. Of course panics because, that carpet is expensive! And why did you have such a creature in your possession!

He was not prepared for this. Apparently it was having a scuffle with Kalim’s magic carpet, the piece of matting simply wanted to play with Scarabia’s new guest, but the poisonous fire-type took it as a threat instead. Chasing each other around like wild dogs. Reacting quickly, Jamil put it outside using Snake Whisper before things escalated, but decided to give you a call.

Rook Hunt 🏹

You thought Jade was pampering, Rook is over the moon for this fairy type! What a wonderful creature, absolutely beautiful! Rook is completely captivated by the fairy-like creature, the pure pink essence of love in its true form!~ ✨ As he puts it anyways. 😅 Rook will smother Sylveon with attention!

He’ll groom it to perfection and flaunt it to the entire dorm, this of course draws some attention. No one has ever seen a creature quite like Sylveon, with its sweet voice and flowing ribbons. And you left Rook himself in charge to take care of it isn’t that wonderful! ~ ✨ This basically turned into one big photo shoot, with Rook at the center gushing over his new friend.

He even takes Sylveon out on a hunt stroll with him. Man cries when it wraps it’s ribbons around it’s wrist. Let’s just hope no rowdy students make fun of their little adventure, they’ll have a merciless arrow drawn back ready to face them. Rook won’t tolerate gossiping, no one is allowed to tarnish the beauty you and your partner share together.

Ortho Shroud 🤖

Ortho was more than happy to take care of Pikachu for you! He was the one that actually accepted in the first place. It was just so cute and round and soft and friendly, a perfect companion for our little Ortho! Plus, he was really excited to analyze it for his database. Although, in reality he took this opportunity to get Idia out of his shell and help him.

Humans and animals were already a well known subject Ortho knew plenty about, even a few beasts were a well known species. So a loveable Pokémon shouldn’t serve a problem. While Idia wasn’t all that excited about watching a living, breathing, messy pet (virtual pets were much easier) Ortho was not having it and saw this as a good experience.

Playtime was his favorite, Pikachu was just so fast and full of energy. Zipping back and forth with a Quick Attack to chase the bouncy ball, or using its tail to play catch. It was such a cheerful little sunshine, it even shocked Ortho a bit with its cheeks. Emitting little sparks of electricity, which felt really nice. They’re both just so cute together, Idia snuck a few pictures of them napping together.

Lilia Vanrouge 🍷

Another child for Lilia to adopt!! Oh how precious! Immediately Lilia’s fawning over your cute Noibat, however, you tell Lilia to be careful as this Pokémon is quite young. Of course Lilia heads your warning and bids you a graceful farewell, before rushing off with the cutie in his arms to flaunt to his whole dorm.

Almost immediately Lilia’s going to test his cooking skills; a growing boy like that needs to eat right? Well don’t worry, chef Lilia will whip up something nice, which of course has Noibat cheering for a hot meal. The trio of terrified fae and their drowsy human: they couldn’t have Lilia kill off something so precious, you’d be heartbroken!

However, perhaps they were a bit too slow in stopping Lilia, because thanks to his magic he had already whipped up a horrendous looking hole of soup. But what had everyone’s jaws dropping was that Noibat enjoyed it! It even cooed for seconds, nudging Lilia with the bowl. Of course Lilia was over the moon, he’ll have to ask to babysit more often.

[nat-20s]

for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hello. What about a villain SO who adores animals for Captain Hook, Hades, Dr. Facilier, Bill Cipher, Beetlejuice, and Jafar? Thank you hun😊🍯

Hope you like these ^^

~~~

Beetlejuice:

·         I wouldn’t put it past him to make one or two beastiality jokes…

·         But apart from that, he doesn’t half mind animals either! (And he finds it endearing to see you playing with them, not that he cares to identify at all the warm, soothing feeling in his chest when he sees you boop your nose against a tortoise’s.) He’d love a dog, or… a tiger. A dinosaur would be ideal.

·         But actually, its animals that tend to have a problem with him.

·         Cuz of course animals are a lot more sensitive than humans tend to be to ghosts, and demons, and souls. And his soul is pretty damn mucky. BJ has met exactly zero animal’s so far (Since his death) that haven’t taken an immediate dislike of him. They hiss at him, or growl, or try to wriggle away even if they aren’t being held by him; Just nearby to him.

·         He scares them because they can feel his evil and want nothing to do with it.

·         So your dreams of adopting a dog with your new ghostie bf will need to be put on a back burner. Maybe he can lasso a sandworm and y’all can name her Rose and she can be your pet? He absolutely does not want you to be sad because of him!!

Bill Cipher:

·         “ooOOH, what kind? Anglerfish? Clown fish? Sharks? Lobsters? Giant Squid? Wolffish? The Textile Cone Snail’s native to the Red Sea, Indian Ocean and Oceania waters? Octopus? Lock Ness Monster? Mermaids? Shrimp? Koi? M E G A L A D O N S? OH OH- THE KRAKEN?”

·         “Wow, that was a lotta underwater stuff. I mean, yeah, they’re all great but also land animals and birds… And I don’t think all those are actually real?”

·         “Heheh, that’s what you think… “His body loses its colour and becomes like a Bill Shaped screen, like he does sometimes when he’s brainstorming, and you just catch a picture of somewhere under the ocean and a beautiful, purple tale flapping out of the picture and a flash of soft, human skin just above it. Your eyes blow wide open. “Y/N, remember 80 percent of the ocean is unexplored.”

·         SO, yeah. Bill’s really into underwater creatures. It is the most mysterious part of earth and in it lives some of the world’s freakiest creatures.

·         He’ll install a whole aquarium in your house out of excitement, and inside? Nothing but angler fish, giant squids to watch you while you sleep and beautifully coloured sea snails climbing up the glass walls.

·         Land animals though and birds? Very little interest. Birds get points only for being close to dinosaurs (You ask about reptiles in that case and his eye inverts in its colouring. His ‘skin’ goes red. “Those jerks know what they did.”), but still he’d much rather talk about star fish! Get ready to be more educated about the ocean’s weirdest creatures and mysterious happenings then you ever wanted to be.

Captain Hook:

·         He has very confused feelings about this- especially when you act so chummy with Tik Tok who, naturally, loves you and your T-Bone steak snacks.

·         On one hand, if you’re feeding Tik Tok then Tik Tok probably won’t feel the need or be able, to eat him.

·         But on the other- bEtrAyER! How could you feed and love that monster, that has plagued his life for years and made his existence a living hell?

·         But then again, the fact that Tik Tok is now often too full to bother with him rears its head again and he calms down.

·         Because of this, its typical that he says nothing when you have animals around (Any animal. They all remind him of Tik Tok. Scales, fur, or feather). He’ll want to. Gosh, the need to speak will overflow in his throat and he’ll take a deep breath- … but then no words come out. He forces it down. Because he can’t mention his dislike without mentioning his relief also, so speaking at all would really just make you confused and feel bad and leave him frustrated because he doesn’t know how either of you could change to make this better for anyone, so its just not worth it.  

·         So then he just walks away.

·         Its pretty humorous to see, actually. Because he’s just all grumpy and slouching off, maybe shaking his head and muttering, and you’re all wide eyed and confused. Holding, like, a budgie or a snake or something.

·         The other pirates are keeping a tally.

·         Bonus point: He’s not scared (Or allergic) of any other animals apart from Tik Tok, so you don’t have to worry about him being skittish or anything.

Dr Facilier:

·         Frogs are a difficult subject for him so enjoy amphibian cuties somewhere that he is not, please. Also rabbits- there was an incident before you came along that he does not speak of.

·         Other then that, Facilier is basically a normal person about animals. He can appreciate a nice zoo visit every now and then and pet the odd dog or cat but with you in his life he never wants to go to a zoo again. And he’s bored as hell by everyday pets.

·         But he won’t tell you he’s sick of all the animals. Nay, nay. Its one of those things where you love the person, so you put up with the crazy/annoying shit they love. Like ‘Yes, yes. Very interesting, cher… ‘ when you talk about it, while he’s actually reading the newspaper and he hasn’t heard anything you said. After all, you stay quiet when he’s plotting or cackling over something he did to a victim that day. Its only fair.

·         He is fascinated, though, when he’s just watching you (Sometimes he just sits back and observes you doing your thing. Its relaxing for him) and he notices little quirks you’ve picked up from various creatures. Like the way you curl up when you’re lying down on the couch and how you shrink back from things that happened to surprise you, similar to a big cat. Your eyes are focused like a wild animal, too. Very cute.

·         Lots of animal-themed nicknames.

Hades:

·         “You know, some tell me I’m a kinda animal, babe… “He wiggles his eyebrows at you over his mug of whatever-he-drinks (You fear asking, after watching him eat a bowl of worms), offering his best (And funniest) bedroom eyes to you.

·         “Yes, but are you as cute as this snake Hades?? Are you?? Look into these eyes and tell me this snek is not as cute as you are.” You lift the little grass snake gently from the table and onto your arm, letting him wrap its body around you and lift his head to look around; Checking out what’s up. He was getting his scales stroked good; Why has it stopped?  

·         “Pfft,” Hades rolls his eyes, returning to the chess board in front of him (He likes to play both sides and challenge himself).

·         Okay so, Hades can take or leave most animals. But it’s so cute that you love them, so he lets you keep them around. Whatever animals you like (Don’t worry, you also have the proper equipment and enclosures for them, and Hades makes another God, who is an expert on all things animals, come by whenever you have a question), and however many you like. I mean, what’s the good of being a God if you can’t spoil yourself and your preciously excited, human significant other?

·         So you have, like, Reptiles at the west end of his underworld castle, nocturnal animals on the east, more pet-type animals like dogs and cats and rabbits in the living area part of the castle, etc.

·         The animals give Pain and Panic a hugely hard time, which Hades thinks is a great bonus to doing this for you.

·         He really loves it when you call him and yourself the animal’s parents. Yes, call me Daddy, babes. Its fine by me!

Jafar:

·         Oh my god, the disdain in his voice when he looks from you, practically bouncing on the heels of your feet and to the fluffy white kitty you’ve gently shoved in his hands- which he holds at nearly a full arm’s length away from him. “Eugh. Really?”

·         “What’s wrong! ? Isn’t she the cutest?”

·         “She’ll get fur everywhere.”

·         “Oh, that’s rich… “You say, side eye-ing Iago, who’s making a face at the cat from Jafar’s other shoulder. “Iago stress moults- and you stress him out all the time!”

·         A dramatic, offended gasp erupts from one of the two males (Not gonna tell you who). “It is aesthetically pleasing mess!”

·         So basically if the animal doesn’t speak a language he understands, he doesn’t care for it. You’re going to be fighting him on this for the rest of your life, Y/N. (Or his. I mean, I heard evil double crossing sorcerer vizier’s are dying at an accelerated rate these days. Hm, mysterious.).

[drabbles-mc]

Okay, so I wanted to bounce off of the anon's imagine for a juice spider fic, but I also want to see the guys' react to this situation. I know that would be asking a lot, so maybe a headcanon for how the boys would react? Can you imagine Tig's cheekiness/horniness, or Happy's deadpan reaction? Hell, even Chib's would be hilarious. I leave it to you

Since we’re doing this HC for multiple characters, I figured a list might be better than multiple fics. Hope that’s alright! Also threw Opie into the mix because I love him haha. Based off of This Fic

(Also currently drafting a fic that is a different version of this for Kozik for a different request which is why I didn’t include him in this)

Reaction to finding you screaming and naked outside the bathroom because of a spider- 

Tig:

For sure bursts into the room with his gun ready to shoot someone because he doesn't think that there’s any reason someone would scream that loud except if they’re about to be murdered

When he walked into the empty room he was insanely confused, but that confusion only lasted for about three seconds when he saw you standing outside the bathroom naked, dripping water all over his floor

He doesn’t even bother to ask what happened or what’s wrong as he makes his way over to you. You can see it in his eyes that he only has one thing on his mind, and it has nothing to do with the spider on the other side of the door

You push him back, telling him that he doesn’t get to lay a finger on you until he takes care of the monster living in his bathroom.

“It’s not going anywhere, c’mon, we can be quick,” he reached out to touch your hips. But you’re firm, keeping him at arm's length, “You don’t get to touch me until that spider is dead.”

He tries to protest, to sweet-talk you into forgetting about it, but you step away from him and point at the door. You make it very clear that the vibe in his dorm isn’t going to be a sexy one until you know that the eight-legged nightmare is dead and flushed down the toilet.

He rolls his eyes with a sigh but he begrudgingly opens the door to take care of the problem. You can hear him mumbling under his breath about how he can’t believe that you would really push him away over a spider and that he couldn't believe you expected him to see you standing there like that and think about anything other than having his hands all over you.

Despite your annoyance, you had to laugh at his frustration. He made quick work of the problem and came back out, a smirk on his face. He backed you towards the bed and both of you had to laugh at the entire situation

“Y’know, I might start keeping other weird shit in there if it means I get to walk in and see this all the time,” there was a cheeky grin on his face as he thought about it.

You shook your head, “I find any more spiders in there I’ll never be naked in this dorm again. You can count on it.”

Chibs:

If he had heard the scream coming from anywhere else, he would’ve been concerned. But he knew that there couldn't possibly be anything that terrible happening inside the shoebox of a room that passed for his dorm.

He found himself chuckling when he heard you yelling his name, telling him to “get the fuck in here now.”

He walked in and found you sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to your chest. He saw the trail of wet footprints leading from the bathroom to the bed and he had a million questions he felt like he should be asking.

“Do I even wanna know, love?” he was trying not to smile and failing miserably at it. You looked at him, “Do you like company when you shower?” Confusion came across his face, “What?” You repeated yourself, “Do you like company when you shower?” He laughed, “Only if it’s you.”

You shook your head, “Really? Because you have quite the friend hanging out in there waiting for you!” He couldn't even try to pretend that he understood what you were talking about, “Ye gotta start talkin’ sense to me. What the hell--” You cut him off, “There’s a giant fucking spider in there!”

Once he realized that that’s what it was, his laughter continued. He came over and stood by the edge of the bed, pushing the dripping hair back out of your face. He didn’t want to say what he was about to, but he couldn't lie to you, “Aye. I know. Keeps all the other bugs away.”

“You know?” in that moment you contemplated leaving him. If you hadn’t been naked you would’ve stormed right out of the room and left the compound. He held his hands up in mock surrender, “I hardly ever use the shower here! We leave each other alone!”

“Go kill it. Now.” It was plain as day on his face that he was amused but also didn’t really want to do what you were asking him to. He tried to reach out and caress your face but you pulled away, “C’mon, love. That just don’t seem fair. He’s just tryin’ ta do his job.” You started daggers at him, “Filip. I swear to god--”

“No need to bring God into this,” he chuckled as he made his way over to the bathroom, “I’ll take care of it for you.” He opened the bathroom door and took his boot off so he could squash the creature causing the issue.

A few moments later you were rewarded with the sound of his boot banging against the wall. He walked back out, pulling his shoe on as he did so. He shook his head as he walked over to you, “All taken care of.”

You allowed him to drape a fresh towel around your shoulders, “If you want a pet we can get a fucking cat or something. Or a dog for the clubhouse. But no more spiders.”

Happy:

He swung the door open to the room, the same angrily neutral expression on his face that he always had. He could hear the shower still running, and it made him wonder why exactly you were standing outside the door to the bathroom. He looked back and forth between you and the doorway, waiting for you to offer something up about what was going on.

“Why’d you scream?” his voice was gruff. You pointed towards the shower, “There’s a spider in your shower!”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “So? Kill it.” Your eyes went wide as you shook your head, “I’m not gonna kill it!” He tilted his head slightly, “Just gonna stand there naked and waste all the hot water, then?”

You huffed. You loved the man but sometimes you wanted to smack him repeatedly with a rolled-up newspaper. There were downsides to being with someone with a bloodlust like his, one of them being that he would never be able to wrap his head around being afraid of something like a spider.

“Can you just go kill it for me, Hap? Please?”

He didn’t say anything else to you about it but he did go over and walk into the bathroom. He shut the shower off and after a few moments of him looking around, he lifted his foot and kicked the wall of the shower where the spider had been, a brief grunt falling from his lips as he did so.

He walked back out to you, “It’s dead now.” You had to laugh at his deadpan delivery of the statement, “Thank you.” He grabbed a towel and handed it to you, “You should get used to killing stuff. You chuckled, “Yea. I’ll get to work on that.”

Opie:

He walked in and saw you frantically waving him over. He shut the door behind him, not wanting anyone to walk by and see you. You were holding the bathroom door shut like you were trying to lock someone inside.

“Who you got in there?” it was hard for him to not find the situation at least a little comical. He reached and grabbed a shirt off the top of his dresser and handed it to you. “Not who,” you shook your head as you quickly pulled his shirt on, swimming in the fabric.

“What’s going on?” he reached for the doorknob but you beat him to it. You waited for him to look at you, “There’s a spider in there.” The confusion and concern melted away from his face as he laughed, “A spider?” You slapped his chest, “Don’t laugh! Thing has legs as long as yours.” He smiled and shook his head at you, “I doubt that.”

You hand him a shoe that had been cast aside by his dresser. He shook his head and waved you off, “I think I’ll be alright.” You stepped back as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind himself. There were the quiet sounds of him scuffling around on the other side of the door.

A minute later you heard the flush of the toilet and let out a sigh of relief. He opened the door and smiled at you, “All gone.” You peaked around him and did a quick scan of the room, as if to make sure he was telling you the truth.

He pulled you against him and pressed a kiss into the dripping wet hair on top of your head. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking of another smart comment to make so you quickly started pushing him back towards the door. He laughed as he allowed himself to be escorted.

“Just bring me in to do your dirty work?” You laughed as you stood on the other side of the doorway from him. You didn’t justify the comment with a response as you shut the door on him. His laughter made it’s way through the walls between you, “I love you!” he called to you. You rolled your eyes despite the fact that you couldn’t see him, “I love you too, even though you raise monsters in your shower.”

These were super fun to write!! Hope you enjoyed them. xo

[msotherworldly]

Dadula: A Short Story

Title: Dadula

Fiction Type: Original fiction

Prompt: “I don’t have to explain myself.”

Dad paced the kitchen, face red as a strawberry. It looked strange beneath his ginger hair, and I grinned. His eyes met mine, flashing, and my smile faded. I swallowed. I picked at the threads of my sweater.

Dad stopped. “I want to know where you were.”

“I don’t have to explain myself.”

“Damn it, Tracy!” His hand slammed the table. “This isn’t working! If we can’t be honest with each other, I’ll send you back to your mother. Because I can’t deal!”

“Don’t!” My eyes watered. “Dad. Don’t you...” I shook my head. “Don’t you want me?”

“Don’t do that, Trace.”

My voice shot up. “Do what?”

“Make the big eyes. Weep. Your mother used to do that to get her way.”

A whimper escaped me. “It wasn’t my idea to come here.”

“Huh?”

“Mom said it would be better if I came to stay with you. She packed my bags the next day. And now you’re telling me to leave...”

“Honey.” He dashed to me, throwing an arm over my shoulders. From the chair I sat in, I wrapped my arms around him. He kissed the top of my head. “I don’t want that.”

“She said I was just like you.” Tears blurred the room. “That I was stubborn. Angry. Do you guys hate me because I remind you of-”

“No.” He framed my face in his hands. “Never say that. Whatever your mom and I think of each other, we love you.”

“I love you, too.” I sniffed. “But I can’t tell you what I do. You wouldn’t believe me.”

“You hunt mythical creatures, right?”

I gaped.

“Honey, it was inevitable. I was hoping you were screwing around with a boy or something. And a part of me was worried you were in trouble. But you couldn’t be my daughter and not have some gifts.”

I struggled to breathe: I managed a grunt.

Dad smiled, and fangs slid to his lower lip. His eyes glowed red. “This is what I am.”

I kicked my backpack into the air, and snatched it. With two movements, it was open and a stake was in my left hand. I lunged.

“No, honey! Hold it! Stop!” He raised his hands. “I’m not gonna hurt you!”

“Huh?”

“I loved your mother. I like humans. I don’t...”

I lowered the stake slightly.

“It happens. I drink animal blood. Squirrels mostly. Deer aren’t as easy to find as the books suggest.”

“Dad.”

“You’re a Dhampir. You can sense creatures, can’t you? And they’re drawn to you.”

“You’re sure you’re good?”

“It happens.” He shrugged. “I promise. I don’t kill people. But now you know why we never had pets.”

“You told me you were allergic.”

“Nah, it’s just that when cats or dogs get near me they try to tear me apart. Animals don’t like us.”

I shook my head. “Animals like me. They obey my commands.”

“That’s why your mother got you two dogs. They’re your protectors. Your...guardians, if you will.”

“Hell hounds?”

“Vampires have hell hounds. Ozzy and Prince are just dogs. Dhampirs attract animals to them. They follow orders.”

My stake clattered to the ground. I threw myself into Dad’s arms. His cool hands stroked my hair. When I stepped back, his eyes were brown and his teeth were an ordinary length.

“You could have told me you were a vampire.”

“You could have told me you killed vampires for a living. I might have known a couple.”

I laughed. “I guess the fact your friends call you ‘Drac’ should have tipped me off.”

“I guess the fact your friends kept calling you ‘Monster’s Bane’ should have tipped me off.” He grimaced. “All I want is communication.”

I shrugged. “Sure. I suppose you’re not gonna commit me, so...”

“No, I can help you.” He wiggled his brows. “I know where Vancouver’s top vampire dens are.”

“Sounds like a good father-daughter bonding experience.”

He bumped my fists. “We’ll get cheeseburgers and milkshakes afterwards.”

“Sounds good. Could we squeeze bowling in too?”

“You got it, kid.”

[gnocchighoul]

Operation Hot Potato

Summary: 

“See? She’s just a baby~” you coo, gently wiggling the kitten in his face.

Lucifer grimaces. Takes another, larger step back. “If a baby is what you want, I’d rather give you one myself.”

(You bring home a kitten and try to hide her from Lucifer. Unfortunately for you, nothing gets past the House of Lamentation’s resident pet-hater.)

Word Count: 3.6k

AO3 Portal

You found a kitten.

Well—kind of. It’s debatable.

You think it’s a kitten. She certainly looks like one—fluffy little thing with snow-white fur, blue eyes, a poofy little triangular head, and the most perfectly pink toe beans you’ve ever had the pleasure of squishing. 

The reason why you’re so hesitant to call her a kitten? 

She breathes fire. Hiccups fireballs. Sneezes flaming hot streams of… well, flames.

You learned that firsthand ten minutes ago, when you nearly got your eyebrows singed off by a particularly dangerous sneeze. All you wanted to do was give her a smooch on her wittle pink nose, you weren’t expecting to get blasted in the face with an orangey-red inferno.

But you know what? It doesn’t matter if she’s a little strange. You’ve sworn your everlasting love to your newfound daughter—your secret daughter that the demon brothers can absolutely not know about under any circumstances whatsoever, because you just know that Lucifer will make you put her back in the wild where you found her.

Your fire-sneezing, bouncing baby girl wouldn’t last another day out in the harsh wilderness (aka the dumpster that you retrieved her from). In the forty-seven minutes that you’ve had her, she’s grown accustomed to belly scratches, sleeping in your bed, and gnawing on only the finest tortilla chips in the Devildom. 

Her name is Tater Tot.

She sticks out like a sore white thumb among your colorful assortment of pillows. Not that she cares. She’s living it up in the lap of luxury. Tater Tot stretches—turns around with every paw in the air, proudly showing off her rotund little baby belly, and mrrps at you.

Its the cutest thing you've ever fucking seen. You just wanna SQUEEZE her. Ugh, who would've guessed that a little trash fire baby would steal your heart so quickly?

And it’s not like you broke the rules and brought home a pet on purpose. Tater Tot had chosen you. By choosing to rummage around in that specific dumpster that you just so happened to walk past on your way home from RAD, Tater Tot had effectively decided that you were to be her new caretaker. 

It’s fate. Kismet. You’ve wanted a pet for so long—dog, cat, dragon, gremlin, doesn’t matter. You’ve spent hours upon hours bitching and moaning to anyone that’ll listen about how badly you’ve wanted a pet to smother with your love. Nobody has been able to escape your woe. Everyone—the brothers, the angels, Solomon, and even your good buddy Diavolo (somehow, Barbatos has managed to evade you) have all been forced to listen to your lamenting about the pet-shaped hole in your heart. 

But finally—finally—your prayers have been answered.

With a fire breathing kitten. 

Oh yeah. Kismet.

You’re fairly certain that Tater Tot has never lived in a house. She had been perfectly content to snuggle up in your school uniform like some kind of tiny, pouch dwelling, heat seeking creature, until you had snuck into your bedroom and closed the door behind you. 

The second you set her on the floor, it was like a switch flipped. Tater Tot had shown off her unnatural strength by flinging her little puffball body around the room like a possessed tumbleweed, spastically crashing around the room and knocking over furniture and keepsakes alike.

You had finally cornered her under your bed and sat peacefully nearby, humming quietly to calm her. It didn’t take long for you to coax her out with snacks—she liked the chips, but passionately disliked the gummy worms—and within twenty minutes you had Tater Tot lounging with you on the bed, rubbing her soft little cheeks into your palm for rubs and scritches. 

You need to come up with a plan to hide your beloved child ASAP. It’s only a matter of time until either Lucifer hauls you off to his room or one of the brothers decides to camp out in yours for the night, and if word gets back to Lucifer that you’re harboring a fugitive animal… Well, favoritism or not, it won’t end pretty.

Though perhaps there is one person who can help you with this little secret.

Satan. The cat-loving fourth brother. 

Man oh man, he’s going to be thrilled with sweet little Tater Tot. You have to be careful though—you reckon that there is a 96% chance that he’ll try to steal her away from you. Trying to juggle custody battles and harboring your secret daughter from Lucifer all at the same time sounds like such a pain.

But… That would still be better than having to put Tater Tot back on the streets.

With the threat of big-meanie-Lucifer looming over you like a particularly gothic and pet-hating phantom, you come to a final decision. You’re just going to have to pull on your big girl pants and accept the soul crushing truth of the situation.

Satan is your only hope. 

But how are you going to sneak your daughter all the way over to his room?

You look around your own room for something, anything that can hide your beloved dumpster pet and—ohohoho.

 ~

“Darling?” 

You freeze midstep.

Busted.

“What’s up, Lucifer?” You try so hard to keep your voice calm and normal. So hard. 

Judging by the way Lucifer looks at you, you’ve failed. And you were so close. Satan’s bedroom is literally right there! Only a few yards away! If only you’d just had ten more seconds to yourself in the dark hallway... Alas, the warden your beloved Lucifer aka the resident pet hater stands between you and the dusty salvation that is Satan’s library of a bedroom.

You shuffle your feet a bit nervously. Readjust your grip on the cardboard box. A bit warily, Lucifer eyes it.

“What’s in the box?”

You panic. “What box?” 

Fuck.

Lucifer cracks a smile, though it doesn’t meet his gaze. He gestures to the cardboard box that you are currently holding near to your chest like some sort of ugly, cubic liferaft. 

“Oh!” You laugh. It’s too high pitched. Suspicious. “This box? It’s just some books for Satan, it’s nothing—”

The box sneezes.

Your mouth snaps shut and you thank all the fucking stars in heaven that this sneeze didn’t flambé you.

Lucifer’s eyes narrow accusingly. Tone icy and sharp, he says, “Books? Is that so?” 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck—

You wilt a bit under the intensity of his gaze. “They’re… cursed books? Yeah, so cursed and dangerous and only Satan knows how to nullify the evilness of these books so I’m gonna just slip past you—”

Lucifer takes a step to the left, planting himself firmly in your path and effectively thwarting your desperate grand escape. A single blade of moonlight cuts through the curtains and slices through the shadows, Lucifer now caught in the spotlight and—oh that fucker did that on purpose. Ugh, what a drama queen.

Red eyes practically glowing in the dark, he nods menacingly at the box. “Go on then. Open it.” 

“I dunno, I really shouldn’t because of the curses and—”

Clearly not in the mood to entertain your scheming-slash-rambling, Lucifer takes matters into his own hands. Before you can twist away, one of his hands darts out to knock the lid off of the box and—

Books. It’s filled with books.

He frowns. Lifts one up and—nope, there’s just more books underneath. “...What?” 

“Happy? Now if you don’t mind I really should get—”

“Let me help you with that.”

Your reflexes aren't fast enough. Before you can leap back or Sparta kick him away, Lucifer plucks the box right out of your arms… and reveals a squirming lump beneath your sweater, right inbetween your breasts. The box hits the floor. Lucifer stares at your newly acquired mass with a very particular sort of horror that you’ve never seen before. 

You panic. Again.

“...I grew a new boob. I think the Devildom air is toxic or something, but it’s okay! The more the merrier, right? We can still—gET YOUR HANDS OFF MY TIDDIES—”

Lucifer presses one hand to your lower back, trapping you, and yanks down your zipper, revealing the purrito that is wrapped kind-of-securely to your chest with a scarf. He recoils backwards, looking equal parts horrified and peeved off.

Time for Plan B.

93% sure that you can still recover from this situation that is rapidly soaring downhill, you stuff your hands into your pockets and then throw them outwards, flinging fistfuls of rainbow confetti into the air. “Surpriiiise! You’re a daddy! Say hello to our daughter.”

“No.”

“Her name is Tater Tot. Personally, I think she takes after you.”

The Tater in question shimmies out of her silky prison and tumbles nose first into your palms. You hold her right up to Lucifer’s face, grinning like a goddamn sociopath when he takes an alarmed step backwards. Little puffball paws desperately try to swipe at his nose. Lucifer looks downright offended by the assault of pink toe beans.

“See? She’s just a baby~” you coo, gently wiggling the noodle-limp kitten in his face.

Lucifer grimaces. Takes another, larger step back. “If a baby is what you want, I’d rather give you one myself.”

“As fun as that sounds, we have a perfectly good one right here!” 

“That thing is not a baby. Where did you find it?” 

There’s a concerned little scrunch in his brow that you wanna smooth over with your thumb, but when you try to close the distance between you two, he moves further out of reach. Frowning, you hug Tater Tot to your chest. She snuggles her face into the crook of your neck and purrs like the smallest biodiesel engine in all of the realms.

“I found her in a dumpster!” you say, perhaps a bit too proudly. 

Lucifer’s eyes widen. “In the city?”

“Why is that so shocking? Does the Devildom not have stray cats?” 

“That’s not a cat.” 

“Well yeah I kinda figured, what with the whole fire breathing thing and all, but—”

“It’s a chimera.” 

You stare at Lucifer. Try to gauge how serious he’s being. Tater Tot nibbles on your thumb with little needle-like teeth. 

Surely he’s joking. 

“...Like the lion-goat-lizard thing? That chimera?” 

Lucifer nods. 

Like you’re in some twisted version of the Lion King, you hold Tater Tot up in the beam of moonlight that Mr. Doom and Gloom had previously been occupying. Examine her totally normal kitten-features. The distinct lack of goat hooves. Miss Tater licks her nose. A Chimera? Her?

Surely he’s fucking with you.

But… it would explain the whole fire-breathing thing. Kind of. You’re not fully convinced he’s lying, but the truth doesn’t make much more sense.

But if she is a chimera… that’s so badass.

If Lucifer thinks for one second that Tater Tot being a nightmarish Hell creature is going to scare you into giving her up, then he is sorely mistaken. (You did choose to date him, after all. You're an expert at loving on Hellish beings.) At the end of the day, whether Tater is a chimera or a cat or whatever the hell else, you’ve already bonded with each other. She’s your baby and you are not going to let him get rid of her. 

If he gets Cerberus, then you get your funky little Tater Tot, dammit.

Lucifer watches this journey of emotions play out on your face. His eyes narrow. He says your name slowly, strained—a thinly veiled warning in his voice.

The grin that overtakes your face can only be described as evil. 

“We’re keeping her.”

“Absolutely not.” 

 ~

“You can’t be serious.” 

From the depths of your blanket fort, your hand emerges to flip Lucifer off. He scowls. 

“This blanket fort is only for Tater Tot and me.”

“Then perhaps you should relocate to your bed.” Lucifer growls.

You snuggle further into the black sheets cocooning you. With impressive speed, you had raced back to Lucifer’s room and stripped every piece of fabric from his bed in record time. From there, it was simply a matter of combining the dark sheets with a bunch of pillows and voila. You had created your very own anti-Lucifer fortress, right in the middle of his bed. 

Tater Tot army-crawls across your thigh and worms her way into the sheets, vanishing like a ninja.

"What?" You peek at Lucifer through a small opening in the fabric. “But then you would just ignore me and Tater Tot.” 

“Yes, exactly. I’m glad that we’re on the same page.”

“No! We’re not on the same page at all,” you scowl. “I’m not moving until you bond with her.” 

“Then I suppose you’ll be stuck there forever.” 

“Maybe I will!”

You can’t see him right now, but you know in the depths of your heart that Lucifer is rolling his eyes at you. 

Which, y’know. Fair. You are being a little bit ridiculous. But what choice do you have? The confetti didn't work and Lucifer needs to form an everlasting bond with Tater Tot. He needs to experience how lovely and precious and wonderful your little baby is, so that he won’t make you put her back in the dumpster where you found her.

You have one last tactic. It is by far the absolute worst. 

Talking to him. Like some kind of functioning, responsible adult, because apparently that's what you're supposed to do in a healthy relationship. Blegh. 

While you agonize over stooping to this final resort, Lucifer climbs into the bed without a word and settles himself in like he owns the place. Which he does. But that’s beside the point. 

One of your arms emerges from the blanket shield to poke at his pajama clad thigh. He doesn’t react. So naturally, you poke him again. And again. And again, until finally he sighs, “What?”

You squirm your way out of the stuffy blankets, gulping down air once you're free—sweet baby Jesus, fresh air has never felt so good—and Tater Tot flies out after you, rocketing across the mattress at the speed of light and tumbling around like a little white pom pom. While she does her own thing, you worm your way into Lucifer’s side so that you’re halfway on top of his chest. He huffs and lays there like a board, refusing to hug you, so you grab his arm and wrap it around your shoulders yourself.

Here goes nothing. 

“Why are you so against having a pet?” you ask, dancing the pads of your fingers over his chest.

Lucifer cracks one eye open. “The first and last time I allowed pets in the house, Satan brought home 48 cats. In one hour.” 

...You really should have seen that one coming.

“Oh. Well, I mean… Is that reallyyy a bad thing—ow! You jerk, I was just kidding.” You pout. “You didn’t have to pinch my butt that hard.” 

Lucifer snickers and pats your butt consolingly. “Mmm, no, I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Briefly, you consider headbutting him right in the chin. But alas, that wouldn’t solve anything, so you settle for pressing a kiss to his collarbone, then reach a hand up to play with his hair, just how he likes. It’s not very ~vengeful~ buuut it’s bound to put him in a better mood. 

You trace cutesy little heart shapes on his right pec. “You know what I want?”

Lucifer closes his eyes—lets his head fall back onto the mattress. “We’re not keeping her.” 

You snuggle into his chest with a happy little hum. “Yes we are.”

“...Just for the night. Tomorrow you're putting her back where you found her."

 ~

You wake up in agony. 

It feels like you’ve had a lung ripped out and replaced with serrated knives. Or shark teeth. Each breath drags oh so painfully at your—just kidding. 

You wake up well rested and tangled in the bedsheets, your head hanging off the side of the mattress. You’re a little hazy-brained and your skull feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, but that’s probably because of all the blood rushing to your head. When you roll over and haul yourself back up onto the bed, a noise escapes you that is definitely not fit for polite company.

The murky depths of slumber threaten to take you again, so you pat around the bed with your hand, looking for your favorite demon-slash-body pillow. You pat. And keep patting. Where the hell is Lucifer?

You crack one bleary eye open, trying to find Lucifer and—

Where the hell is Tater Tot?

Your heart jolts in your chest as you realize a few things all at once.

One: Lucifer is missing. 

Two: Tater Tot is missing.

Three: You slept through breakfast, but that’s less important. 

You’re off like a shot, wrestling yourself out of the sheets and flinging them to the floor, then stumbling across the room to get to the door before your brain can even fully wake up. It’s fine, you don’t need 100% brainpower, you just need to find your baby. 

You’ve barely taken four steps into the hallway when you slam nose first into Mammon. He catches you, saving your face from becoming acquainted with the floor, and you grab him by the leathery lapels of his jacket. 

“Where’s Lucifer?!” you hiss.

Mammon desperately tries to squirm out of your feral grip. You shake him like a polaroid picture.

“Geez, knock it off would ya?! He’s in his office, what the hell is up with you? Wh—HEY! I’M NOT DONE TALKIN’ TO YA!”

Whatever the Weenie has to say to you is less important than finding your child, so as soon as you acquire Lucifer’s location, you haul ass to Lucifer’s study.

 ~

In a raging fury that could rival Satan’s existence, you fling open the door, ready to tear Lucifer a new one for not even letting you say goodbye to your beloved kitten and—

And your heart melts into a warm, gooey puddle. 

Lucifer is sitting at his desk. Tater Tot is draped across his shoulders.

Lucifer glares at you, but there's no real bite in his gaze. “Keep it down, Phobos is sleeping.”

You blink stupidly, your brain racing at a thousand miles an hour to catch up with whatever the hell you’re currently feeling that has you all mushy and moon-eyed. “Phobos? What the hell? That’s not her name at all.” 

“My love, we are not naming our daughter after potatoes. Her name is now Phobos. She and I came to a mutual agreement that it is far more fitting of a name for a creature of her pedigree.”

...You’re so torn. On one hand, you want to argue that Tater Tot is a lovely name for your dumpster kitten-chimera-thing, but on the other hand… he called her ‘our daughter’. As in your guys’s daughter. This can only mean one thing, and you clutch at your heart when you realize what’s happening.

They bonded.

It damn well might bring a tear to your eyes.

You make your way over to Lucifer, shove aside the papers on his desk, and perch your happy ass right on the hardwood.

With a bone deep sigh, Lucifer leans back in his chair. “Why do you always do that? My lap is available, you know.”

Tater Tot wakes up and lifts her heavy little sleep-addled head to meep at you.

You grin—hook your ankles around the armrests of his chair and pull him closer. “So… does this mean we’re keeping Tater Tot?” 

“... Yes, we’re keeping Phobos. But that’s it, no more pets.”

“Okay, wait. Hear me out. What about a dog?”

“Absolutely not.”

Lucifer plucks another white hair from his RAD uniform and holds it up to the moonlight, scowling at the offensive thing. Why in all the realms did you have to find a white cat? The damned thing has only lived with you lot for two days and yet somehow its hair has already gotten over every article of black clothing in his wardrobe. It’s infuriating.

His gaze wanders across the courtyard to where you’re sitting pretty on Beel’s shoulders, clawing at his face with your fingertips and screaming in terror at how high up you are. He grins. 

He can put up with the shedding fur, so long as he gets to see how your eyes shine like the stars when you see Phobos.

Still though. Why couldn’t you find a black kitten? 

“Lucifer! There you are!” 

Lucifer flicks the cat hair—lets the breeze catch it and float it away. Before he can even get a proper greeting in, Diavolo is pulling him in for a bone crushing hug.

“You’re here a bit later than usual. How’s life with the new kitten treating you?” Diavolo asks.

Lucifer steps out of the hug and eyes Diavolo warily. “Just fine, thank yo—wait. How do you know about the cat?”

Diavolo blinks innocently. “Surely you told me about her, didn’t you?” 

No, he definitely did not—oh no. 

Lucifer stares, slack jawed and horrified, because in that moment, he realizes something that he refuses to accept.

No.

No. It can’t be.

Diavolo would never do that to him. He would ne—oh fuck, he absolutely did.

Diavolo planted the cat. He knew that you would find her in that dumpster and take her home.

Lucifer has never known a betrayal quite like this. Diavolo says something about heading off to his office, but he doesn’t hear him over the rushing in his ears.

“Diavolo.” 

The demon prince in question pauses in his escape to look back at Lucifer. “Yes, Lucifer?”

“Why did you have to pick a white cat?”

And oh, Diavolo laughs. A full belly laugh that quite honestly kills Lucifer. Just a little bit.

[abbynx]

Juliet and Ophelia (Trish Una X Reader)

Like I said I can't pass up an opportunity to simp for this girl.

So this is a continuation of 'How would the La Squadra family react to you having a crush on the former boss' daughter, Trish Una?'

So yes, this series will be called, "Juliet and Ophelia" A Trish Una X Reader with a dash of found family with La Squadra and the Bucci gang so stay tuned!

Genre: Romance, fluff, wholesome

School. Nothing else to say, the certain word can emit a certain reaction from every individual. Some recoil and wince from the sudden flashbacks rushing into them, embarrassment and shame from all of the stunts they pulled. Some react with a certain fondness within them, lips slightly tugged to the side as the sudden nostalgia just soaks them up. Some, indifference. It's just an establishment wherein an individual attended for a quarter of their life and held nothing against it. To you, it didn't really emit anything from you. As a person who has never attended school, you looked at in an indifferent manner. You've been homeschooled all your life, relying on the knowledge your tutor Melone or sometimes Ghiaccio teaching you. They're good mentors, always took the time to make you feel like they aren't dumping overwhelming amounts of data on you. Additionally, they were extremely mindful of your well-being and made sure to not over-work La Squadra's adopted child. You thought of school as something as that, a school. You have nothing against it at all, nor you feel any sorts of things to it but you can certainly empathize those young people who struggle against it, tiring themselves to no end and are unsatisfied until their unmeetable standards are met. So that's what sums it, you were indifferent towards it... Until you yourself have began to attend it and all you can associate it with would be utmost regret. You didn't know what came up to you when Risotto asked of you if you wanted to live normally, he clarified that again; would you like to start attending school, like any other normal teens your age? Admittedly, home schooling is the norm too, but do you really want assassins educating you all your life instead of spending times with people your age, just enjoying the wonders of life? Ohhh, the entirety of La Squadra does not want you to emulate the same misery they've live to get to this, dear no. Risotto was kind enough to give you time to think about it, his right hand man Prosciutto taking the time to also explain its benefits and negatives. They offered to enroll you to a boarding school, attain a certain normalcy in your life for once. Although it was a boarding school, you can always go home every weekend to see them again. They can try to play it smooth and casual, but you know that they'd be too clingy to let you go. And by that, you accepted for some reason and now you've come to regret it, and can never take it back. You remain unmoving from your desk for the remainder of lunch break, head tilted down and interacted at the most interesting specimen to you, that were the pair of polished black shoes Prosciutto bought you. They were ridiculously expensive for a pair of shoes, but they are durable and pretty to look at, I guess. Just the perks of having a fashionable guy around. It was a dumb sight in hindsight and in an outsider's point of view, but you liked the way it gave out a glimmer when directed in light. Not only that, it's not like you can do anything about your crippling isolation in school. Everyone seems to despise your guts in this damned institution for some reason. You really don't know what they problems were, nor were they willing to confront you about it and instead opted to whisper and laugh at you from behind as you tread pass them. It was so damn unfair that you were one of the most fierce assassins La Squadra Esecuzione has to offer and yet you were easily taken down by a bunch of high schoolers who talked behind your back. You loathed this place. You regretted accepting the offer to study in this god forsaken hell and just wanted to go home. Melone's home education was more than enough, heck his teachings were more advance than the school curriculum has to offer and yet Risotto has insisted for you to experience this period of life for some reason. You've grown up from them, raised by assassins and have experienced the weirdest shit as a Stand User and they still think you need to have a normal high school life? And for what? It's not like there's an underground

organisation ran by students at school where you were needed to play double agent but no-- they insisted you to study things you already knew and compete among students apparently. The lunch packed with food remained untouched in your bag, wherein you planned to just give it to the stray cats and dogs just as you wait for one of La Squadra to pick you up from this damned institution. It's not like you were starving yourself, you were just uninterested to eat at the moment and you really didn't want it to go to waste so why not give it to those who are more in need? You weren't really accustomed to eating alone, as there would always be a member of La Squadra eating with you. These past few weeks felt so full without them that now it's made imminent to you that without them— life can be so colourless, so monochrome, so damn boring. Your crippling sense of loneliness, in addition to your utter unaccustomed self in a new environment made life hell for you in here. It would only be a few, agonising hours until you would be picked up by one of the assassins. At least there you'd get some actual slumber that won't require you to wake up at five o'clock to practically rush towards the school shower rooms and bathe in ice cold water in the middle of dawn for another day in hell. The teacher's lectures remained audible to you, and yet you couldn't seem to properly understand what she was going on about. It was a mere noise, as your eyes would impatiently dart up to meet with the hands of ticking clock, idly zooming by, as your legs bounced at the anticipation of the bell ringing. It was only a matter of a few more hours and yet, you just can't wait to ditch this hellhole for two days. "L/N, are you paying attention?" You jerk your head up from your daydreams with a slight yelp. Your teacher stood indignant, hands on her hips as she raised a questioning brow at you. "Well?" She waits. "Yes, Madam." You nodded. "Then pray tell, what is the common misconception about Mary Shelley's Frankenstein?" She challenged, shifting her weight on one side and awaits for your answer. It was then you noticed all eyes were on you. You knew the answer very well, it was simple really and yet being the centre of attention certainly hindered you from answering as soon as you can. "See? This is why--" "The common misconception regarding the Gothic novel Frankenstein is that often they refer the monster as Frankenstein, when in reality it's the name of the creator of the creature, Doctor Victor Frankenstein." You once remembered Ghiaccio's outburst about that, his shrill voice just ranting on and on about referencing the name incorrectly in modern pop culture. For a moment the teacher looks at you from the tip of her nose, as if to say 'I'll get you next time', before returning to the lesson Well, that was a relief. You released a breathe you've been harbouring, before turning your head yet again to watch the ticking hands of the clock go by and finally have the day done. ~•~ Similarly to your situation, it has come to her attention that she deeply regretted transferring back to school after a year of her absence. It was as if nothing changed, she was the same ol' Trish no one paid attention to, nor cared about. She only existed amidst their faint breathes whispering amongst each other behind her back as she passes by; "Whoop, there is she is again. I don't get why she returned." "Maybe she was pregnant last year." "Omg, really?" And she despises it. She couldn't have a single shit about their thoughts about her, but if they ever dared to spread rumours she wouldn't hesitate to use her connection with the mafia. She tries not to abuse this power, but come on, who wouldn't? At least now, they knew they wouldn't dare to land a hand on her, she has her own Stand now and not only that, her new family wouldn't stand something such as this to happen to her. All she wanted to do was to leave to godforsaken hell hole for two days for the weekend but alas, her pickup person was taking way too long. As much as she wants to stand up,

march forward to her new home with Bruno and the others, she was strictly told to wait for one of them to pick her up. But alas, they were taking too long and the roof of the waiting shed wasn't ideal for a rainy day either, not with its leaky roof, that is. All she can do was to sit on the metallic bench, and dodge dripping water leaking from the roof of the waiting shed. Seated at arm's length away from her, was a classmate of hers. A memory implanted itself on her brain after that one lecture in class, impressed at their quick wit to respond to the teacher's question, even if they paid little to no attention to the lesson apparently. And not to mention, their nonchalance response after proving the teacher correct was admirable. If only she can do something similar of that, she knew she'd be more proud of herself. The pinkette looks up in anticipation at the sound of a vehicle pulling over in front of a waiting shed, but frowned once she sees it wasn't the usual van Bruno rents. It was a black van, with pure black tinted windows and honestly, she'd think it was one of those vans that you'd be afraid of when you see it approaching. The student beside her let out a relieved sigh, and practically skipped off before boarding the van. Trish couldn't help but to sigh out as well, as she was now left alone to wait under the leaky roof. Trish shivered from the cold, before she decided to gather her knees in front of her chest to provide herself warmth from the rain. If only she brought with her the pink umbrella Giorno gifted to her, but alas, she forgot and left it back in the villa they currently reside in. She wanted to disobey them, and just walk home but she had no umbrella and doesn't really want to spend the weekend with her nose clogged and throat sealed with pain, as much as she wants to stay and rest within the villa with her new found family. She wanted to go home, she hated the hell hole and regretted her decision going back to it. As she wallows from her regrettable decision, the van door opens and the students steps out of it. Trish was confused for a moment, but didn't reacted to it, as her gaze remains directed down. For all she knew they don't left something behind, but apparently she was wrong. "Hey, it's pretty cold and you might catch a fever. You can borrow my jacket, here," Trish looked up, shocked to see you holding a black jacket and a light blue umbrella. She was shocked to say the least, but graciously accepts it. "The umbrella is a bit broken, sorry about that—" "N-no, it's enough... T-Thank you..." "You're welcome," they were quick to interact with, before they run towards the van once again and drove off. Trish watches the black van disappear into a turn, before she looks back at the jacket, subconsciously smiling fondly at it. She shrugs the jacket on, as it was slightly loose around her frame, before opening the umbrella above her head. After glancing at the direction from whence your van drove off, the smile on her face never wavered despite her impatience for her pick up person to arrive. ~•~ "So how was school, Y/N?" Risotto asks after a cheery round of laughter at the dinner table. You halted for a moment upon hearing the dreaded s-word being spoken. Thankfully, no one took notice of your reluctant pause and cleared your throat. You went on as normal, as you poke with your food in front of you. "It's good." You hoped that it wouldn't come up but alas, it was inevitable they'd ask that like any other adult talking to a young adolescent.  "Anyone got your attention~?" Illuso teases with his usual lopsided grin, with a mock crone. "Not really." You deadpanned, as you mentally rolled at the idea of liking someone in that school when everyone's been mean to you. "Your asking the wrong question, did you get someone's attention, though?" Melone chimes in. Once again, you mentally scoff at the idea of someone liking you. "Nuh uh." Oh if only they knew. Well now that you think about it, it was better for them not to know. They're highly capable people with strings to

pull and honestly, your classmates hasn't done anything physical to you yet. "Enough about the lovey dovey crap, what's important is that they're learning crap in school like they're supposed to be!" Ghiaccio retorts towards the two. "We're just glad you're enjoying yourself at school." Pesci adds with a warm smile. Another reason you can't tell them about your hatred for school. They were happy for you having that normalcy in your life, something they've never experienced pleasantly. As much as yours wasn't that ideal of a usual high school teen drama in one of those novels, but at least it wasn't as worst as their experience. And honestly, you would do just about anything to see them smile. "OHHH SHIT, Y/N'S SCHEDULED TO WASH THE DISHES!" Formaggio shouts from the kitchen in joy, prompting you to jerk up your seat in shock. The man has the tendancy to trick you into washing dishes sometimes and now that you've grown and realised how naïve you were, you grew more wary of his tricks. "SHUT THE HELL UP, NO WAY—" "YES WAY!" Formaggio returns from the kitchen, holding up the chart of dish washing schedule, before sticking his tongue out at you. "SUCKER!" Truly, you've missed the rampant chaos within your family, a stark contrast against the repetitive schedule in school. It was sheer chaos there too, not gonna lie, but this is a different type. This was the type wherein you felt at home, just smiling as the villa becomes frosted with a thin layer of ice unlike the one in school. You wanted to stay with them, but of course, their main priority was for you to have some sort of normalcy in your life and honestly, if that's what makes them happy you'd be happy to oblige. You are certainly doing great at school, and they're proud of it, it shows... If only Gelato and Sorbet were to see you as well. They may be gone, but you can just imagine them smiling and encouraging you. ~•~ Of course happy days would pass swiftly than its duller counterpart. Happy days were over once Monday hits and you were once again strapped to your seat for the next eight hours, another three hours by the library to get the Mount Everest high school work due to tomorrow, before curling up against the corner of your bed staring off into the abyss until slumber has taken a liking to you and claim you within its embrace and then somehow, someway, you would be then pulled from your sweet escape by a shrill bell from your bedside table, before you would inevitably glare at the blaring alarm clock, slam your hand against it before attempting to regain about five more minutes of sleep— only then to remember how things function in this seventh circle of hell as it was enough to convince you to get up and march towards your dresser with your stuff and head to the shower room. Needless to say, you've got the school schedule memorised by now. Even the usual discord occurring from time to time began to bore you. Nothing much really happened in school, you were just slowly deteriorating from boredom and by home sickness... Once gain, just goes to show how much you missed your chaotic little assassin family. You set yourself by your desk with a sigh, just wanting to get through this place without wanting to wreak havoc within the school premises that will prompt a bad mark on your pristine records. Not that you cared, it's just that Prosciutto will surely bitch about once he catches a glimpse of it and make an hour-long lecture about it. You let out an exhausted sigh for the umpteenth time, slumping against your desk with your eyes closed when suddenly a figure stands in front of your table. You immediately straightened your back and tried your best to look alive, before glancing up at her. "Oh hey, what's up?" You instinctively asked to swerve yourself away from the awkward silence, smiling up to the pinkette. "Hi, thank you for lending me you cost and umbrella. If it weren't for them I would've caught a cold back there." She hands you your jacket and umbrella back, in which you graciously accepted. "You're welcome, Miss Una— I-um—" you

stammered, your hands brushing against hers once you've reached to collect your neatly folded, pressed and newly washed jacket, along with your light blue umbrella. It was the heat of the moment when you gave her those following items and felt sorry for the girl, concerned about the dripping rain and the cold, humid air. "It's no problem." "Please no need for formalities, we're the same age. Just call me Trish." She insists. "There's the cafe in front of campus. I'll see you there after classes, my treat. It's the least I can do to show you my gratitude." "Uhhh, of course." For a moment it didn't process that the café she was referring to was an expensive one. The posh, fancy, the Prosciutto's to-go-to type of thing that charges an arm and a leg just to buy a shot of espresso, and they'd charge you your pair of kidneys if you asked for sugar and cream. Money wasn't a problem now that the boss was actually considerate, but why in all nine circle's of hell did you not insist her not to treat you? Well now's too late, as class has started and she's trudged back to her desk. Aside from the expensive coffee shop... Wow, you never thought that your encounter with her would expand to this type of interaction. At the back of your mind screamed wary, but something stronger in you just found this as a perfect opportunity for a friendship to bloom. She seems like a nice girl and quite frankly, she'd be lovely to spend time with. Like the weeks before spending your time in school, you gaze up to the clock as always, excited for something new other than weekends to go back to the La Squadra villa. This time, you were excitedly anticipating the time after class to meet with the lovely pinkette. Something good will happen, I just feel it!

[ayamari-no-goshi]

I was going to make a post about Revenants, but, you know what, this is just going to be a post about the number of BS ways one can become a Revenant and/or vampire (as the folklore isn’t always clear) in Slavic and Balkan folklore. I’ve only included ones where I’m aware of how they’re created. There are a lot of revenant/vampiric creatures in this part of the world than are listed here.

Please note, in some areas of a country, the various terms are interchangeable, but are very different entities in other areas of the same country. You will also see a lot of similar words - this is due to language similarities. Also, the idea of 2 souls appears a lot - folk who have this are also said to have 2 hearts

Also, Hungary is not considered a Slavic country and will not be included.

Long post, so line break:

Albania: Note: while not excusable, this was an area where a lot of damage was done during the Ottoman conquests and was part of the Ottoman empire until 1912. Please keep that in mind

Liogat/Liougat/Ljugat : created upon the death of all Albanians of Turkish descent. Does not matter how they lived their lives

Sampiro: created upon the death of all Albanians of Turkish descent. Can also be created by Albanians who committed an “unnatural act” in life. Examples are, bestiality, homosexuality, prostitution, transvestism, heterosexuality with a Turkish person, consuming meat handled by a Turk, being a habitual liar, or being a professional thief

Shtriga: a vampiric witch and not actually dead. Created from a woman who has become evil through envy or never marrying.

Vryolakas: created when an animal like a cat or dog jumps over the body before burial, person dies by murder or suicide, a person eats meat from an animal killed by a werewolf, or was an evil magic user

Belarus:

Mjertovjec: created when a witch or werewolf died. Uniquely similar to the Filipino Manananggal

Bosnia:

Blut Aussauger (originally from Bosnia, but brought into German lore.. and the German term is what’s used): created from either tricking/force feeding people to eat its burial dirt, eating meat from an animal a wolf killed, committing suicide, dies unbaptized, dies a witch, leads an immoral life, or if a nun walks over the grave (wtf?)

Bulgaria: Note: It’s very common for these creatures to take 40 days to form after death in Bulgarian lore.

Krvoijac -  created from a person who drinks wine or smokes during Lent.

Obour/Obur: traditions varied. Sometimes this ran in families. Sometimes it was created from someone who died suddenly, specifically of murder. Depending on region, this term can refer to 8 distinctly different creatures.

Opyrb/Opirb: created from folk who had improper burial rites, had a cat or dog jump over the dead body, a shadow fell on it before burial (I have no idea how this is prevented), a violent death, or sometimes evil people.

Ustrel/Istral: created from a child born on Saturday but died before being baptized.

Croatia:

Kosci: created from the death of a drowning victim, adulterer, or murderer

Kozlak: created from a child who was weaned before its time and died

Pijavica: created from a man who committed incest with his mother, or a particularly evil person

Vrukolak: (from Dalmatian region) - created when the victim of a Vrukolak dies, by being murdered without anyone witnessing the crime, or when a cat or dog jumps over an unburied corpse

Former Yugoslavia (Czech Republic and Slovakia)

Muroi - created from an evil person. Also similar to a Banshee - rings bells and calls the names of folk, who end up dying.

Nelapsi - specific to the Zemplin district. Created from someone with 2 souls

Upir - created from someone with 2 souls. Some areas state they were a witch in life.

Greece - included simply due to how old the legend is. Reported in ancient Greece.

Vrykolakas: traditionally revenants. Created by improper burial rites, something was left unfulfilled, they were cursed, or were seeking revenge against things something done to them or their families.

Macedonia:

Note: while not excusable, this was an area where a lot of damage was done during the Ottoman conquests and was part of the Ottoman empire until 1912. Please keep that in mind.

Ariogourouno: created from wicked Turkish people who never ate pork

Vryolakas: created when an animal like a cat or dog jumps over a corpse before burial, when a person dies by murder or suicide, if a person eats meat that came from an animal that was killed by a werewolf, or when an evil person who used magic dies

Poland: As a note: areas Poland have a history of looking for signs upon birth to mark folk as something similar to a wise man or shaman. Over years, these signs influenced some of these legends.

Mwere: specifically of Kashubian lore of north central Poland – created from the death of an unbaptized children. Girls are more likely to become one

Ohyn: made from children born with a caul and teeth and died shortly after birth

Strzyga/Striga/Strzygoń - person born with 2 lines of teeth and/or 2 souls becomes one upon death

Upiór - a person born with 2 lines of teeth and/or 2 souls or someone who had a defining feature marking them as ‘off’ becomes one upon death. Or, folk cursed before death, dying suddenly, dying in childbirth, or having a grave desecrated could also create one. Also, in some areas, it’s specifically stated they’re made when a male child who was born with teeth dies. Examples of what was ‘off”: being born with a caul, being a red head, being left handed, having a strange mark on the body, etc.

Vjesci: created from a person born with a caul or teeth renounces God on his or her last breath.

Wieszczy – made when a child born with a cleft palate and either a caul or teeth dies. As a side note: this creature is similar to a Banshee

Wili – created when a bride dies on her wedding day

Romania: Note: there are a lot of regional variations of the word Strigoi. Also, the term Moroi sometimes appears, but the descriptions of it are so varied its hard to place exactly what this term references.

Moloi - created when an illegitimate child is killed by one of its parents

Muroni - created when a person dies a violent death, was a magic user in life, was a child born out of wedlock to parents born out of wedlock in life, or died from a Muroni attack

Pricolic: can be created from a child dies before being baptized, or person burns a porridge spoon, or sweeps dust from the home out of a doorway and into the setting sun (that is insanely specific). BTW, this is the undead variety. The wolf variety… is born of an incestuous relationship and has a tail

Strigoi - there are both living and dead variations of this entity. Living Strigoi are sometimes considered witches or sorcerers, but the 2 soul tradition also comes up. If there is a 2nd soul, it slips out at night and causes havoc. Dead Strigoi (strigoi mort) bring misfortune, illness, and death to their families. Examples of how one can be created: suicide, cursed by a witch, born with extra nipple or tail, have a life full of sin, never married, be born as the seventh son of the seventh son or seventh daughter of the seventh daughter ((this can also make werewolves)), child born out of marriage, born too early, died before baptized, having red hair and blue eyes, being born with a caul...

Strigol: created when a magic user dies

Strigoiul Muronul: created when child born out of wedlock to parents born out of wedlock dies. Always a redheaded boy

Varacolaci: can run in families. Can also be created from an unbaptized child who dies, or a person who commits suicide.

Russia:

Eretik: created from the death of a human sorcerer

Inovercy: created upon the death of a person not practicing Russian Orthodox

Kudlac/Kudlak: created upon the death of person born with a red or dark colored caul.

Upierci: created from someone who committed suicide, died violently, or practiced witchcraft

Upierczi: created when a witch or heretic dies

Upyr: created upon the death of a heretic, sorcerer, witch, or a child born of the union of a werewolf and a witch

Viesczy: created when a person born with a caul or teeth or is the child of a witch and werewolf dies

Serbia:

Jedogonja: created from a person killed by a Jedogonja or the disease it can spread

Mullo/Muli: (Specifically from Roma who live in Serbia): created when a person dies suddenly of an unnatural cause or did not have proper funeral rites.

Nekrstenici : created from the death of an unbaptized child

Vlkodlak: created by when a man under 20 who was a murder, perjurer, or had improper relations with his mother dies, or if he was killed by a werewolf, or if he ate meat from an animal slain by a werewolf before death

Vukodlak : created when a heretic, magic user, or werewolf dies. Can also be created from someone who commits suicide or was murdered.

Slovenia - did not find any distinctly unique to Slovenia that are stated to be created from people

Ukraine - did not find any distinctly unique to the Ukraine that are stated to be created from people

Creatures found in lore of multiple countries:

Lampir/Lampiger/Lampijer/Lepir (Bosnia/Montenegro/Serbia): created from the first person who dies from an epidemic or plague

Navi (Bulgaria/Poland/Russia/Slovenia): created from the death of an unbaptized child or a drowning victim

Veshtitza (Montenegro/Serbia): created from a woman who practiced magic in life

Vompir/Vompiras (Macedonia/Bulgaria): created when a person is improperly mourned or buried, dies in disgrace, or passes on in ‘an unnatural way’ such as childbirth or suicide.

Vudkolak (southern Slavic countries): created when a werewolf dies, or if a bird flies over an unburied corpse

Creature of unclear Slavic lore

Kruvnik: created when a person was not properly mourned or does not have proper burial rites, committed suicide or was evil. Sometimes this is a person with 2 souls. Very neat side note with this one. They sometimes return to their wives. If the wife accepts him for 3 years, he will become human again.

Sources:

The Vampire Book: the encyclopedia of the Undead (3rd edition): by J. Gordon Melton

Night Creatures. The Enchanted World. Time-Life Books

Encyclopedia of Vampire Mythology by Theresa Bane (the full book can be found for free online)