#trying to catch up ahah ^_^;;

[triaelf9]

Adventure Archive Tier on Patreon/Ko-fi!

My maps aren't as fancy, but there are nearly 500 character tokens & minis, monster minis, terrain maps, stuff to build a quick environment/battlemaps on the go, variations in the Adventure Archive Tiers! + a monthly token request!

And that's on top of weekly WIPs, kitty photos, monthly wallpaper, chibi and Soft 'n Sweet sketch ^_^ And it makes my doodles and comics possible!! All for just $5 a month (and a discount if you pledge for a year on patreon!)

http://patreon.com/TriaElf9

https://ko-fi.com/triaelf9

[srapsodia]

me: alright that's enough sequential art for a bit. let's just draw a simple image next. maybe even, imagine, just a character doing a pose!!! WOAH wouldnt that be neat? for once?

my brain, cursed with a need to draw sequential art: COMIC

me: no, we just said-

my brain: WE MUST THUMBNAIL THIS WHOLE 5 PAGE COMIC NOW RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW!!!!

[aemiron-main]

Thinking about baby patty 20 dead 40 wounded

[mothbeasts]

sometimes complaining to my mom feels like walking on eggshells to not use a word she finds "offensive" towards myself it's awful

[paymechildsupport]

"You're not my Husband..." // Doppel!Francis x Reader 🐄🩸

@cassanderasblog --> Thanks for the request <3

-!! CW: Dubcon (in a sense), – Brief mention of murder, – Very slight body horror

-!! Very brief size kink 

Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis  

▷ —--------------------

▷ —--------------------

▷ —-------------------- (s-s-s-sma-smash)

“You’re not Francis.” The words are sharp, punctuated, your glare burning straight through the mimic of a man in your living room

“No, I’m not,” The creature grins- if you could even call it that–, mouth a waning black chasm, no teeth, no tongue, nothing. How this thing managed to bypass the doormen you had no clue,-- how could someone fuck up this bad? 

“Francis’s” eyes darken, – literally. The whites turn into an inky black, eery small spheres of light peeking out where his pupils should be. 

Oh dear. 

The wired phone you keep on the kitchen counter goes off behind you. Glancing once more at your “husband” you slowly back track, hand inching to the phone. 

He just watches as you hesitantly pick up the ringing phone, making a click when it’s pulled from its cover. 

“Attention, this is the D.D.D, – we detected an unknown life force near your residency. Please, do not panic. Keep your door locked and do not approach anyone of suspicion. If you see anything weird, do not investigate. Dispatchers are coming to your location to liquidate the threat”   – Well, it was a little late for that. 

“... cancel dispatch” your lips form the words slowly. There’s silence on the other end, 

“Excuse me?... you want dispatch–” 

“Discharged. Threat neutralized.” 

Even “Francis” is stunned, – staring at you, unblinking, – flabbergasted. 

“‘Got it under control, thanks,” You hang up before they can answer, placing the phone back in its place. 

“Francis” just stares.

-

“You’re a doppelgänger , right?” 

“Perhaps.” His eyes narrow

“Alrighty then, prove it.” 

Unzips. 

—-------------

“Francis” stares, wide eyed, gaze fixed upon the water stains on your ceiling. Even with all the lights off, he can still see your snoozing frame tangled in the sheets beside him, (perks of being non-human). 

Your chest rose and fell with each breath, the movement captivating whatever posed as your husband. 

Your body looked serene, the faint light emitted from his glowing pupils illuminating your chest. 

“Ahah-!” You were practically in hysterics, tears flowing down your rosy cheeks, nails raking into the headboard of your bed. “Francis” could only lie there, enamored by your blissful expression as unfamiliar sparks of pure pleasure coiled inside, heating everything up until it was practically molten. 

“Mmph-!” you choke off your moans, slapping a hand to your mouth lest your neighbors hear you impaling yourself on your husband’s doppelgänger 's cock. 

You swivel your hips, his eyes widening; no one’s ever ridden him like you are, – no one’s ridden him period. You were surprised the doppelgänger  even had a dick, – let alone it being almost twice the size of the actual Francis’. You had stuffed yourself full of him, bouncing mercilessly. Your husband had neglected you horribly in the past,-- never coming home, always giving you the cold shoulder, even when you had gotten down and begged for him to look at you, just once –your thirst for intimate touch was at an all time high. 

“Francis” grunted, surprised at how wonderful this new sensation was. The delicious heat in his stomach bubbled over, bottoming out through his cock. Your eyes widened at the warm sensation of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You had to bend down, biting deeply into his shoulder to stifle the screams lodged in your throat. 

You inhaled deeply, desperately trying to catch your breath as “Francis” could only glance over, the slight pain in his shoulder from your teeth barely bothering him, (because, well, one, you were the only one who could breathe and two, he wasn’t human). Your head turns, sloppily kissing him on the cheek, to his absolute shock. 

“Francis” brings his right arm to his left shoulder, fingers gingerly grazing the marks left by your teeth. It still tingled. 

He looks over at your slumbering frame again, now tentatively reaching the same arm in your direction, hesitantly touching your peaceful face. You do not stir, so he continues downward, fingers carefully glazing over your nose, your mouth, your jaw, and finally stopping at your neck, your pulse vibrating through his hand. Humans were so interesting, he thought, – and you had just grabbed his interest by the throat with a viselike grip. 

He gently tucks a stray piece of hair plastered to your sweat slicked forehead behind your ear, grinning in that creepily endearing way of his. How the original Francis lucked out, – he almost felt bad about killing and devouring his corpse, – almost. How could he have fumbled so badly, – you were an absolute treasure, and “Francis” was now determined to keep you all to himself. 

Such a greedy little creature. 

… You’re never going to be able to get rid of him after this. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(requests for more Francis, -- doppelgänger or no, -- are open and very much appreciated !)

I love him a normal amount I swear 🙏🙏🙏

[fardwader]

you’re too good to me (and you know it, too) pt. 2

pairing: peter parker x fem reader

summary: For some unknown reason, Peter Parker cannot stop finding new, inventive ways to humiliate himself in front of you.

And for some reason, you keep helping him up anyway.

Or, the 5 times you save Peter— and the 1 time he saves you.

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

a/n: school is actually kicking my ass rn ahah but i'm finally done with finals hooray. pls enjoy this next chapter!!! wordcount: 2.1k

taglist: @ladylokilaufeyson5 @wlnut

tags: 5+1 fic, slow burn, friends to lovers, reader is annoyingly oblivious, peter is a sad dork, no use of y/n, sarcastic peter and an even more sarcastic reader, multi part, past gwen and peter, not canon compliant, gwen stacy is so beautiful...., crazu overuse of italics.

(two)

Peter Parker is a fucking idiot, a desperate one at that— the kind of idiot that gets himself stuck on fire escapes chasing down his ex.

In his defense, he hadn’t planned on following Gwen.

It just, sorta… happened. 

He was grabbing coffee— minding his own business, when he saw her walking out of the conference center across the street. 

Her platinum-blonde hair caught the light the same way it used to back when things still made sense. And suddenly, his feet were moving before his brain could say, 

“Dude. No.”

Peter rationalizes this very stalker-ish behavior by saying he just wanted to see where she was staying, as much as he loves New York— it isn’t very safe.

He’s totally not trying to bump into her and have a totally normal, natural, totally not planned conversation that may— no, he fucking hopes— will lead to a reconnection like those cheesy rom-com movies they used to watch together.

Instead, he climbs up a rickety fire escape on the side of a brownstone she disappeared into, just hoping to catch a glimpse through a window. 

Totally normal behavior.

But the window he had planned on crawling through was, surprise, surprise, locked– and no amount of budging, tugging, and honestly— praying– would get it open. 

Now, he’s crouched down— hood pulled over his head, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible while contemplating all of the life choices that led him here.

“Why am I like this?” he mutters, slumping forward, forehead thudding against the rusty railing.

He exhales a long, miserable sigh that sounds like it carries the weight of the world— glaring at the pigeon that landed smugly a few feet away.

“Don’t judge me,” Peter mumbles at it. 

The pigeon ruffles its feathers and flies off, which somehow feels deeply personal.

“Peter?”

Oh God.

He knows that voice, your voice.

The voice of the person who somehow always seems to catch him at his lowest.

You’re looking up at him from the sidewalk pavement, coffee cup in hand, face contorted in unmistakable confusion.

“What! No–no, nah, nope. Who’s– who’s Peter?” He rambles, voice lowering a few octaves in a very failed attempt to mask his own identity.

You blink slowly. “Why are you hiding in my fire escape? Are you living up there now? Is this, like, your new thing?”

Of course, the one time he gets stuck in a fire escape trying to creepily follow his ex, it’s your fire escape, your apartment.

He should’ve recognized the apartment complex he had found himself in after that one horrible, unfortunate night where he drowned his sorrows in bad beer and whined about his ex to a stranger— before waking up in said stranger's apartment.

Peter sighs, long and theatrical. “No. Yes. Kind of. I was just— Gwen—uh, she walked in there and—”

“Gwen? The Gwen?” you ask, incredulous.

There’s a beat. 

The wind rattles the old rotting frame of the window that is currently trapping him up there.

He can’t seem to form the words in his throat, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“Okay,” you say finally, “stay right there.”

“Not really a choice,” Peter mutters.

You disappear into the building. He assumes you’re either going to let him in or call security. 

He’s not sure which he deserves more.

Two minutes later, the window behind him creaks open with a painful groan.

Peter whirls around and sees you crouched inside, sliding it up with effort. You reach out and wave him in.

“Come on, Romeo. Before someone sees and calls the cops.”

He grabs your arm for support, squeezing his body through the tiny wooden frame.

You cross your arms. “So. You gonna explain?”

He pulls his hood down and flops onto his back, hair sticking out in all directions.

“She didn’t— She didn’t call,” he says, practically deflating. 

You pause. And damn it, the way you soften in that moment— face morphing into nothing but understanding— it makes his throat ache.

“I just thought, if she was gonna come back, she would call, y’know. Ask to meet up or something.” He focuses on the dizzying pattern of the carpet, looking anywhere but your face.

“That’s stupid,” you say gently.

“I know.”

“Kind of sweet. But still, so stupid.”

Peter groans and throws an arm over his face. “God, I’m the human equivalent of a spilled drink.”

“Yeah, but like… a fancy one. Maybe with a little umbrella.”

He huffs out a laugh, but it dies in his throat when the sound of heels clicking echoes down the hallway outside the apartment.

You both freeze, like two stupid deer caught in the middle of a highway.

No words— just wide eyes and a beat of silence that feels like it could shatter glass.

Peter slowly lifts his head, scrambling up and creeping up to your peephole.

He leans in, squints, then visibly recoils.

She’s there. In all her horrifying glory, her perfect blonde hair styled back in a slick ponytail— black headband perched atop her head.

She’s as beautiful as he remembers, maybe even more, actually.

“Oh my god,” he backs away from the door like it’s practically radioactive.

“What? What is it?”

He spins back to you, wide-eyed, shaking his head. “Oh my god,”

Peter’s already at least halfway out the window and onto the fire escape, his lanky arms getting stuck in the wooden frame.

“This is it. This is how I die. Gwen Stacy catches me mid-pathetic-spiral, and I just combust on the spot.”

You grab him by the hoodie and pull him back in before he can do something even dumber. “She’ll see you if you go back out there. Just— get in the closet.”

He blinks. “What— what closet?”

You point. “That one. Go.”

Peter scrambles toward the small utility closet in the corner and practically swan-dives into it, bumping into a mop, a Swiffer, and at least five cans of Raid. He barely manages to tug the door shut as—

knock knock knock

You spin, tug your face in a tight smile, and open the door.

And there she is. Gwen Stacy. 

All effortless elegance, like she walked straight out of one of his better memories, wearing a badge that says “KEYNOTE SPEAKER” like a crown.

She's stunning— even more stunning than you expected. The kind of stunning that makes time stall for just a second. You think you get why he was absolutely floored in that bathtub.

“Oh, hi! I’m uh, Gwen,” Gwen says, blinking in surprise, “listen, this might be a little weird, but do you live here?”

“Yeah. I sure do!” you blurt out, way too loudly, voice an octave higher than normal.

From inside the closet, Peter visibly cringes, the volume physically hurting him.

Gwen’s brows knit together slightly. “Sorry, I just— thought. God, this sounds crazy. But I thought I recognized someone on the fire escape earlier.”

“Nope,” you say, popping the P forcefully— a little too forcefully, causing a speck of spit to fly out of your mouth and right onto her pristine black blazer.

 It almost moves in slow motion, like a car crash you can’t tear your eyes away from.

It finally lands, painfully clear against the black of her— no doubt expensive-blazer.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” you fluster, face warming in absolute mortification.

You frantically fumble your arms around, trying to wipe it off, but afraid of actually physically touching her.

She looks at the foam on her blazer, brows pinching together— before wiping it off with her sleeve, face stretching into a tight-lipped smile. 

“It’s alright.”

A beat of unbearable silence passes between you two.

“So, it’s just you in here?”

“Uh, yeah. Just me in here, it’s just me,” you blurt.

Behind you, a muffled thud echoes from the closet.

Your eyes go wide.

Gwen tilts her head, curious. “Is everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine! That was just my, uh— cat!”

“Your cat?”

“My cat!” You’re fully sweating now. “Very big. Very... clumsy.”

Gwen gives a polite smile, clearly weirded out but too classy to say anything. “Well... sorry to bother you. I just wanted to make sure no one was in trouble.”

“No trouble here,” you say, physically blocking the crack of the door so she can’t see your closet. “Have a great conference!”

She lingers one more second, like she’s trying to place something, and then finally walks away, heels clicking smartly down the hall. 

You sag in relief, peeking out the crack in the door just in time to catch her figure pulling out a tiny bottle of alcohol and spraying the spot with it.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, practically dissolving into the floor.

Peter swings the closet door, stumbling out, a little disheveled but absolutely horrified. 

You tug your hoodie tighter around you as you and Peter step out onto the street, blending into the afternoon shuffle. 

You’ve barely gone half a block before he groans again, dragging his hands down his face.

“I hid in a closet,” he mumbles.

“You dove into a closet.”

“In your defense, it was the best choice at the time,” you add helpfully. “Not that there were many.”

Peter shoots you a flat side-eye.

“At least you didn’t spit on her,” you mutter, rubbing your hands over your face.

“You spit on her?” 

“No, like— uh, my mouth did that thing where like, when you talk, a little spit flies out–”

His cackle cuts you off; he’s laughing so hard he’s doubled over, almost stumbling on the sidewalk. 

You feel your face warm. He’s never going to let you live this down.

“You spit on Gwen Stacy,” he says through a wheeze.

“Stop it! I just got really nervous. She’s just so beautiful. You didn’t mention that she was that beautiful.” 

“This is why you shouldn’t fall in love with smart, successful women,” he says through another laugh, “They host conferences, catch you stuck on fire escapes, and make you spit on them.”

“You were not spying— okay, actually, you were. But not like… in a creepy way,” you protest.

Peter throws his hands in the air. “Is there a non-creepy way to stalk your ex and then get stuck outside on a fire escape because you wanted a glimpse at her?”

You think for a moment, but can’t seem to find an answer. 

Peter groans. “I should’ve just stayed in the closet.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “You’re not staying in any closets. You’re dealing with your feelings like a semi-functional human being.”

He gives you a look that screams, Please.

“You followed Gwen because you’re sad,” you say more gently, “not because you’re an actual psycho-stalker. It just didn’t go the way you wanted. That’s okay.”

Peter doesn’t respond immediately. Just stares ahead, shoes scuffing the sidewalk.

“It’s like… there’s this version of me that existed when I was with her. And I don’t know how to be anyone else anymore.”

You bump his shoulder. “Maybe that version of you existed with her, but that doesn't mean it's the only version of you that exists.

You're still you, Peter.

The entirety of your being didn't just disappear when she walked away. You're allowed to grow past that chapter in your life. It doesn't mean you have to erase it though, or erase who you were. Just let it be one part of your story, one part of your past.

Not your whole life.”

Peter looks at you. And for a second— a breath, a heartbeat— something shifts behind his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but the silence stretches between you like a held breath. Quiet. Fragile.

You hold it for a moment. Just long enough for it to settle.

Then he lets out a low exhale, scrubs a hand over his face, and murmurs, “I can’t believe I got stuck in a fire escape.”

You blink— then snort. “I can’t believe I spat on your ex-girlfriend.”

A laugh bubbles out of Peter, warm and soft— and a second later, you’re laughing too, the sound rising up your chest.

This entire situation is completely absurd, and you both know it, too.

“Dude, I’m pretty sure your neighbors thought I was, like, a burglar.”

You grin. “Oh, they know there’s literally nothing in my apartment worth robbing.”

“That’s not true,” he says, lop-sided grin etching itself onto his face, “your couch is pretty soft.”

“If anyone steals my couch, Peter— I swear I’ll burn this entire city down to ashes.”

You walk the next few blocks side by side. Still a little sad. But, somehow, a little lighter.

Something warm settles in his chest, something quiet and steady. It's new, and kind of terrifying.

It’s not Gwen.

But maybe, for the first time in his life, he’s okay with that.

previous part !! or next part !!

[tigermark]

style ˖ ࣪⭑

pairing : mark x fem!reader

genre : fluff

synopsis : dating mark always feels like a dream come true... (based on style by taylor swift)

tw : established relationship

a/n : okay yeah whatever i dont even want mark that bad lol im not obsessed with him ahah

you waited anxiously for mark on a park bench, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. he definitely said he'd meet you here at 7 o'clock sharp so what's taking him so long? besides, it was starting to get cold out...

you hadn't been dating for very long, but there was no way he already stood you up, right?

suddenly you hear the sound of someone running, making you immediately snap out of your anxious daydream. but to your relief, it was mark.

he had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, making you smile when you noticed them. he went to the local flower shop before the park, he really is romantic.

once he finally reached you he handed you the flowers, his hands immediately falling to his knees as he tried to catch his breath. you admired the flowers, seeing some of the ones you'd tell him were your favorite. "do you... do you like them?" he asked between pants. you giggled at his words and nodded, watching as he fully stood up and slipped his jacket off his shoulders, revealing his outfit of a white t-shirt and some jeans. even if the outfit was simple, he still looked handsome as ever. he placed the jacket down on the bench before sitting next to you and sighing.

"i left a little late and i thought i'd be able to make it on time but i guess i was wrong... sorry about that," he apologized, eyes fixed on your face illuminated by the street light. you looked at him to meet his gaze, placing the flowers on your lap.

"you have no idea how much this means to me mark... you're so sweet," you said before engulfing him in a hug. a small grunt escaped his lips before he quickly squeezed your body in his arms. "you're such good a boyfriend markie."

he watched you closely as you pulled away from the hug, his hands staying on your shoulders. "i really try to be," he says while pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "now, wanna go on a walk?"

you smiled at his words, "of course i do." he stood up and offered his hand to you after you stood up as well. you intertwined your hands with his, the warmth radiating off of him giving you goosebumps.

you watched as he picked up his jacket from the bench, remembering how cold you were. "i'm a little cold... is it okay if i borrow your jacket?" he immediately nodded, opening it up so you could slide your arms through the holes.

once he had successfully helped you put the jacket on he smiled, "look at you, so cute in my jacket." he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it, starting to walk the path infront of you.

you walked around the park and talked about whatever seemed interesting to you two in the moment, laughing your butts off about what felt like the silliest things ever. mark suddenly looked at you in a moment of silence, seemingly admiring your beauty.

"those flowers really suit you, hm?" he said with a soft voice. "i think you're prettier than them though."

there was a comforting silence between you two as you stopped in the middle of the path, just staring at each other lovingly. you'd never been so grateful for the park to be empty before.

"can i kiss you?" mark asked, his question coming out quickly like it was one word he smashed together. the idea of a first kiss between you two was bound to come up, but you never expected it to happen like this. without even responding you stood on the tips of your toes to grab the back of mark's head, pulling it down so you could kiss him.

the kiss didn't last very long but it truly felt unreal. your heart never stopped beating throughout it, and your hand that was still holding the flowers he'd given you was shaking so muxh to the point that the flowers were shaking too.

"calm down baby, no need to be so nervous," he said with a calming voice when he saw your trembling hands. he lifted his hand to your shoulder and smoothed over your skin comfortingly."i really thought you couldn't get any more perfect but it turns out your lips are soft too."

you let out a giggle at his words, reaching for his hand again. "i'm perfect? you went running in the cold to get me my favorite flowers mark."

he smiled at your words, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips. "i guess we both scored the best kind of love for us, right?"

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You continue sending dexter treats as he tries (and fails) to find out your identity.

Part 3

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Dexter never could’ve imagined things in his life getting any worse than they already had, but life was cruel so of course it did. Rita had ended things with him after finding out about the overnight trip he took with Lila, just as he thought maybe there was a better future for him with Lila she went absolutely psycho and nearly got him killed by the same man who killed his mother, Lundy and his team were far too close to catching him than he was comfortable with, and Dexter still had no clue who this secret admirer who knew too much was that had continued to send him baked goods and notes. Despite all that the admirer that knew too much was likely the only thing that hadn’t been stressing him out as of late, surprisingly that is. Unlike everyone else they weren’t prying into his life or trying to control him, as far as he knew at least, rather it seemed they were simply interested in learning more and forming a friendship of sorts. One of mutual understanding as in one of their notes he had come to learn they also had unique after-hour hobbies, and from what they were letting on they had a code similar to his own. All of this only made Dexter even more curious about who this admirer was, unconsciously he craved to be understood by someone after what happened with his brother. It was all too perfect, especially if this admirer followed similar rules as he did maybe he would have a true friend that could understand him entirely. Dexter hadn’t realized it yet but he grew obsessed with the idea and spent each day eagerly waiting for another note and baked good, he had to admit that whoever this admirer was they were a damn good baker. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention, especially with the thrill of it being from someone like-minded. Even though it made his heart race when he received a note revealing they knew he was the Bay Harbor Butcher, Dexter nearly collapsed when he read it but it gave him an odd thrill that someone had so easily found him out and despite that continued to admire him from afar. Not to mention they flirted with him as well, Dexter would give anything to find out who this was but for now, he had hit a wall and could only wait for them to reveal themselves.

Admittedly, Dexter was a bit hesitant about this new love interest but considering how easy things were with them compared to the complex mess he had to deal with when it came to Lila and Rita. It wasn’t hard for him to warm up to the idea. Things with Rita were awkward and she kept pushing him away despite his explanations, and Lila had proven to be outright psychotic her actions only growing more and more outrageous. He needed someone mentally stable and less emotionally demanding, but also someone who understands him like this admirer. Something neither Lila nor Rita could do for him. Speaking of the devil, as Dexter starts to leave the department he frowns upon hearing Lila’s voice. He turns to see her surrounded by his coworkers laughing happily, if she couldn’t get through to him apparently she would go through to his friends.

“Ahah! Looks who’s come out of his cave?”

“Lila, what are you doing here?”

“She came to see me, bro.” Angel butted in with a proud grin on his face.

“Angel mentioned that he needed a decorator and well, a slot just opened up so I gave him a call.”

“I’ve always wanted a decorator,” Angel said with a grin his eyes glued onto Lila, Dexter pulled him off to the side away from the group, trying to warn him.

“Angel come here… she’s not really a decorator.”

“It’s not really my apartment that I want decorated.” Before Dexter could continue Lila came up behind them wrapping her arms over their shoulders.

“So hey, the boys here have persuaded me to go for a drink.”

“Or ten,” Angel playfully added and Dexter just stared back at him.

“Oh god, should I be worried?”

“Yes, you should,” Dexter said flatly as his eyes met Lilas but she only grinned and rubbed his nose with hers.

“Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing.” She said as she entered the elevator but at the same time, an officer from another department stepped out, her brows furrowing slightly when she saw Dexter.

“Dexter Morgan? This is for you, and you better not break her heart got it?” The officer said narrowing her eyes as she handed him a cute mini drawstring bag of cookies with a note inside the bag rather than in one of the cookies, which was new.

No matter how complex the dessert they’d always managed to place it inside the goodie so maybe this note was something different. Dexter tucked the cookies into his pocket as he entered the elevator, which was when he realized Lila saw all of that. Dexter didn’t like the fact she had, because with the unstable behavior she was already showing who knows how she would react to more competition. Dexter glanced over at her and he could see the anger in her eyes and knew that this wasn’t going to end well.

★ ✮ ★

I was in the lobby just chatting with Jackie before she left work for the day, our idle small talk was just a cover so that I could maybe catch a glimpse of Dexter. To my surprise, he seemed less on guard about my notes, and I had a few guesses as to why. Primarily I assumed he finally realized I wasn’t a threat and had grown impartial to my notes, which meant it wasn’t fun for me anymore. It’s a tiny bit of a shame but I guess it is time to bring our game to an end, certainly glad I did something different with my note today. I had given him a note with a time, date, and place. We’d both had enough of the games and it was about time that we finally met.

Speaking of Dexter I watch as he and his team from homicide exit the elevator with a certain ‘skanky vampire’, according to Debra at least. The whole group was magnetized towards her, except Dexter who kept a very noticeable distance between them, pretty privilege is real but I guess there’s more to that pretty face from how he’s acting. Again our eyes met briefly for a moment and I just politely smiled and returned to my conversation, no need to raise any suspicion from him just yet. I watch out the corner of my eye as they leave the building, and of course, Jackie has to butt in.

“So how long are you going to do this secret admirer act, tits up and ask him out already!”

“Well you’re in luck I just did, I gave him some cookies and a note asking him to meet me somewhere.”

“Hooray! Oh my god please call me afterward and tell me all about it, don’t you dare leave out a single detail!” She said with an eager grin clapping her hands.

“I promise will, anyways I should probably get back to work. Drive home safely okay?”

She nodded and waved me off and we parted ways, I headed back into our office as I had been called in to do overtime. The system had been semi-frequently going haywire and they needed all computers working for whatever case they had begun to crack, though from the FBI agents lingering in the building much later than usual it wasn’t hard to guess which department had a breakthrough. I headed down to where the servers were to check on them, it was a short walk and I said a few goodbyes as others turned in for the night. Once I got to the room everything seemed to be in place but I double-checked anyway, and unfortunately for me, it seemed like a critter or two had gotten inside and had been nibbling away at the wires. I wrapped some electrical tape over the exposed parts of the wires as a temporary fix until I could call for pest control, but this meant I would have to replace some of the wires and disconnect some departments from the system. It wasn’t urgent though, the wires were still working as needed and as long as they didn’t chew through any wires things should be fine.

After handling the mess downstairs I started on a few miscellaneous tasks around the building, there wasn’t much for me to do which is why I hated being called in for overtime just in case something happened. I sighed as I spun around in my desk chair bored out of my mind, I had done literally everything I could at this hour. I even filed the paperwork for all the requests I’ve completed, even though doing so had made me drowsier than I already was. I decided to get some coffee to wake myself up, I stood and left the office and decided to head up to homicide. The FBI had been staying late so it was likely that they would have some fresh coffee I could ‘borrow’. I rode the elevator up to the next floor and casually walked into the department which was currently a ghost town minus the few agents and deputy chief conversing in the debriefing room, I just walked past them into the kitchen where thankfully there was a little bit of coffee left in the pot. I made myself a cup and leaned against the counter drinking it quietly, I hate when the station was like this. The silence always made me uncomfortable as it left me alone with my thoughts for too long, I could overthink and criticize all my actions up until this very moment with no distractions. I hated dwelling on them and always having someone I could chat with or have a conversation to eavesdrop on so that I could escape all the thoughts floating around in my head.

A welcome distraction came from Dexter Morgan and what appeared to be his FBI escorts, I watched as they brought him into the debriefing room. Thankfully the curtains were open and I could peek inside, they had Dexter sit down and were talking to him. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but it was likely about whatever was on the table in front of him, I decided to get out of there while they were still talking. I’d hate to get in trouble for snooping where I shouldn’t be, besides I think it’s almost time for me to go home anyway. As I walked out of the kitchen and passed the debriefing room I took one last glance inside, the thing they were talking about was some storage box with slides of blood inside.

“So those are your trophies….”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Previous | Next

[drunkenlionwrites]

You hit a weak spot for me. Vash and companion being kinda touchy/close without officially speaking about it will kill me I swear.

May I suggest…a thing? Take it a step further…? Maybe they’re in a dangerous city and Vash is being super cautious, watchful.

His companion steps close for safety, keeps an eye out for what’s behind him. And he’s got his hand on their lower back, fingers spread. His eyes are focused ahead, razor sharp, and you’d think this is all just for protection, but then companion turns and lets their lips ever so slightly brush against Vash’s jaw in the process.

Vash doesn’t falter in his watchful gaze, but his hand presses a little closer.

Just. It’s there but they’d rather die before actually giving the connection a name yet.

ooooooh nonnie it's so good ahah i didn't know what to add to it cause it's kind of a complete scenario in my eyes already, so i just concentrated of writing protective vash hehehe 😈 i left enough yearning though, hopefully. Warnings: none, g/n reader Word count: 786 Protective Vash and yearning touches

The main road of the town you’ve been wandering about narrows into an alley before either of you realize it.

One turn too quick, one wrong step off the main drag, and suddenly the background town’s noises fade. It's quiet here. Too quiet.

Vash stops first.

You catch the shift in him even before his hand rises - fingers curling around your arm in a silent signal: halt. You freeze beside him, heart picking up, eyes scanning.

This isn't an alley for shortcuts or missed turns. This is an alley where people disappear.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” he murmurs, quiet and dry.

From the shadows ahead, a voice lilts out, oily and amused. “Well now, what’ve we got here? Strangers. Shiny one’s packing heat. What about you, sweetheart?”

More voices. At least three. Maybe more behind crates and broken scaffolding. You don’t see weapons yet, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Vash doesn’t let go of your arm. Instead, he shifts his body forward just enough to put himself between you and the voices. Protective, casual, but he’s on edge.

His other hand drops to his gun, he doesn’t draw. Not yet.

“Just passing through,” he says with a smile, smooth as ever. But there’s a sharpness to his words, like steel hidden under silk. “No trouble unless you’re looking for it, we’ve just been searching for a place to stay.”

“Oh, I think you found it,” someone chuckles from the dark.

You step closer, your hand brushing against Vash’s coat. You feel the tension in him like static - his muscles coiled, his breathing slow and even, like he’s steadying himself for whatever comes next.

He doesn’t look at you. But his hand leaves your arm and drifts lower, steadying against the small of your back.

And this time, he grips. Not tight. Not panicked. Just sure. Like he’s saying ‘I’m not letting you go’ without speaking a word of it.

You glance at him - his jaw is clenched, gaze locked forward, but his thumb brushes slow against your spine, once. A grounding gesture.

And something inside you breaks a little.

The figures in the dark are getting bolder now, stepping closer. One whistles, low and mocking. “That one yours, gunslinger?”

Vash doesn’t blink. “Walk away.”

But he doesn’t sound angry.

He sounds calm and dangerous.

The kind of danger that doesn’t need to be shouted. The kind that only comes out when something precious is being threatened. You’re somehow puzzled he’s not trying to be a peacemaker now, but you’re also too tense to dwell on it for long.

Your pulse spikes. You don’t know if it’s fear or the way he’s standing so close - his body angled to shield yours, the heat of him pressed along your side.

You shift - just enough to keep eyes on the side of the alley, just in case someone tries to flank you. And as you do, your face turns into him again. Too close.

Your lips graze the edge of his jaw accidentally. It lasts less than a second.

But you felt it. A breath. That’s all it is.

But he felt it too. You know he did.

Because his hand - firm and unyielding at your back - tightens with deliberate care. Pulls you closer.

Like he needs to know you’re right there, within reach.

You don’t look at him.

And he doesn’t look at you.

You both pretend it didn’t happen, your heart’s now pounding beneath your ribs like war drums.

Another step from the men in the shadows.

And then Vash shifts his weight, stance low and ready. His coat flutters as his arm drops - and this time, he draws.

Fast. Too fast to follow.

“Last chance,” he says, voice like flint. “Go. Now.”

The silence is thick. Then movement - shuffling, muttered curses, someone spitting on the groynd mumbling “This shit’s not worth it”, the scuffle of boots as the men slink away into the shadows.

You both stay still.

He doesn’t holster his gun until the alley is empty again.

When he finally turns to you, his gaze is softer than it should be. “You okay?”

You nod. “You?”

He exhales through his nose, something like a laugh caught behind it. “Ask me again in a few minutes.”

You both step back into the streetlight’s glow, leaving the alley behind – his arm now placed on your shoulders in a friendly manner. He’s not placing too much weight on it however, so it lacks casual flair.

Neither of you speaks about it.

Neither of you names what just happened. But it happened.

And that quiet, constant almost between you just got a little harder to ignore.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay you said you like angst so a ominis x mc x sebastian where she ends up breaking down because to pick one would be to hurt the other and neither deserves that. they both have been through so much

An Impossible Choice | Sebastian x Reader x Ominis

UGH okay this was TOUGH, so many directions I could have taken this, but I think it turned out good (and angsty ahah) enjoy!!

Words: ~2,800

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, Hurt/No Comfort

You never expected to find yourself here—trapped between two people who mean the world to you, each step forward feeling like a betrayal of the other. But lately, that’s all your friendship with Sebastian and Ominis has felt like: a careful balancing act, an impossible equation with no solution.

The three of you have been inseparable since fifth year, bound by shared secrets, whispered laughter in candlelit corridors, and the safety of knowing that, no matter what, you’d always have each other. But something changed. And you don’t know when, or how, or why, only that the weight of it presses down on you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs.

It’s in the way Sebastian’s gaze lingers too long when you speak, as if memorizing the shape of your lips. It’s in the way Ominis’s voice softens when he says your name, something reverent and unspoken curling around the syllables. It’s in the sharpness of Sebastian’s posture whenever Ominis leans too close, the flicker of something dangerous in his brown eyes. And it’s in the way Ominis stiffens when Sebastian’s hand brushes yours, his grip tightening on his wand like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

Neither of them has said anything outright, but they don’t have to. You feel it in every stolen glance, every tense silence. And the worst part is, you love them both.

Not in the way a friend loves, but in the way that keeps you up at night, staring at the ceiling, your heart aching with the knowledge that no matter what you do, someone is going to get hurt.

So you try to ignore it.

You pretend that everything is fine, that nothing has changed, even as the moments between you grow heavier, thick with things unsaid. But ignoring it doesn’t stop the way your stomach knots whenever Sebastian throws an arm around your shoulders, his touch possessive in a way that makes your skin burn. It doesn’t stop the way your breath catches when Ominis murmurs your name, tilting his head toward you as if you’re the only thing in the world worth listening to. It doesn’t stop the guilt that coils inside you like a living thing, twisting and writhing every time you laugh too easily with one of them while the other watches in silence.

You tell yourself it will pass—that they’ll move on, that you’ll somehow find your way back to the friendship you once had. But deep down, you know better.

Because you can feel it. The tension, the inevitable breaking point, pressing against your ribs like a warning as you sit between them, a book open on your lap. You haven’t turned a page in ages—not with the way Sebastian and Ominis keep shifting, the air between them drawn tight as a bowstring, poised to snap.

They’ve been like this all night. Every glance between them is sharp-edged, every word that passes their lips too carefully measured. It’s not a fight. Not yet. But it’s something close, something simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the wrong word, the wrong move, to send it all spilling over.

You pretend not to notice. You keep your eyes on the book, fingers gripping the pages a little too tightly. If you acknowledge it, if you so much as breathe wrong, everything will collapse.

Then Sebastian shifts beside you, leaning in, his arm brushing yours as he points at a passage in the book.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for minutes,” he murmurs, voice low, amused. “Need me to read it for you?”

You barely have time to react before Ominis snaps.

“Do you ever give her any space?”

The words lash through the air, cold and cutting. Sebastian stills, his expression darkening as he turns to face Ominis.

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Ominis lets out a humorless laugh, standing to his full height. “Is you, Sebastian. You can’t go five bloody minutes without draping yourself over her like she belongs to you.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenches. “And you can’t go two bloody minutes without acting like you know what’s best for her.”

Ominis scoffs. “Someone has to.”

It’s spiraling too fast. You sit up straighter, reaching out. “Can we not—”

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy hovering, you’d realize she doesn’t need you to control everything she does,” Sebastian bites out, ignoring you entirely.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Ominis sneers as he gets to his feet. “Coming from you. The man who never knows when to stop.”

Sebastian’s hands curl into fists. “You want to say that again?”

“I’d love to.” Ominis tilts his head, voice sharp as glass. “You’ve always been selfish, Sebastian. Always taking, never thinking. And now you can’t stand the idea that you might not be the only one she cares about.”

Sebastian rises, and for a moment, you think he might actually swing at Ominis. You shove yourself up between them, pressing a hand to each of their chests.

“Enough,” you say, breathless, desperate. “Both of you. Just—stop.”

But neither of them are looking at you. They’re locked onto each other, eyes burning with something raw, something ugly, something that has been coming for a long time, creeping in at the edges of their friendship, poisoning it from the inside out.

And you? You’re the catalyst. The excuse they need to finally let it all unravel.

The thought makes you sick.

“You really think you’re the better man, Ominis? That you’re any less selfish?” Sebastian laughs. “At least I don’t hide behind self-righteous bullshit and pretend I don’t want her.”

Ominis' expression flickers—just for a second—but the crack is there, sharp as a splinter. His lips part, then press into a thin line as if he’s forcing something down, something dangerous. When he speaks, his voice is quieter now, but no less venomous.

“And yet, you act as though she’s already yours.” His head tilts, eerily precise. “Like you have some unspoken claim on her.”

Sebastian’s laughter is sharp, humorless. “Oh, I’m sorry—am I supposed to sit back and watch while you play the noble, brooding protector? While you pretend you aren’t thinking the same damn things I am?” He steps closer, pressing up against your hand. “At least I’m honest about it.”

“This isn’t a competition,” you snap, your voice cutting through the rising tension. “I’m not—”

But Ominis speaks over you, his voice razor-sharp. “Honest?” He laughs, a brittle, scathing sound. “You think she doesn’t see through you, Sebastian? That she doesn’t know how you manipulate everyone around you when you don’t get your way?”

Sebastian’s eyes darken. “And what about you? Hm? You stand there, acting like you have some moral high ground, pretending you’re her protector, her friend—but you’re nothing more than a coward. At least I have the nerve to fight for what I want.”

Ominis’ lips curl, but there’s something restrained in his stance, something barely held back. His next words come slow, deliberate. “No, Sebastian. You don’t fight for what you want. You take. You push. And you never think about the consequences.”

Sebastian scoffs, stepping even closer, his breath warm against your skin as he looms just inches from Ominis now. “You’re so full of shit.”

Ominis doesn’t flinch, but you feel it—the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his throat bobs, the sharp intake of breath like he’s fighting to hold something down.

“Tell me,” Ominis says suddenly, turning toward you. His voice isn’t cruel, but it’s raw, pained. “Are you just going to stand there and

let him decide everything for you? Let him pull you into whatever game he’s playing?” His head tilts, the weight of his words pressing into you, sharp and insistent. “Or do you have something to say?”

Sebastian’s hand twitches at his side. “Don’t put this on her.”

“I’m not putting anything on her,” Ominis counters, voice low, controlled—but there’s something beneath it, something breaking. “I’m giving her the chance to speak for herself. Which is more than you’ve ever done.”

The air is thick with tension, suffocating. Your heart pounds against your ribs, loud enough that you swear they must hear it, too. Your mouth feels dry, your fingers curled into fists at your sides as their gazes burn into you from both angles.

And the truth is—you don’t know what to say.

Because every word you could give them feels like a betrayal to one of them. Every choice, every step, every breath feels like tipping the scales in a way you can’t undo.

Sebastian’s eyes are locked onto yours now, something desperate, something pleading flickering behind the frustration in his gaze. “Just tell him,” he murmurs, voice softer now, edged with something dangerously close to vulnerability. “Tell him that you—”

“Don’t,” Ominis interrupts, and his expression is unreadable, his hands trembling just slightly at his sides. “Don’t try to put words in her mouth.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of both of them, the history, the heartbreak that you haven’t even let yourself acknowledge until now. This is it. The moment where everything shatters.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

It’s barely a sound, but it’s enough.

Sebastian’s face falls, just slightly, just enough for you to see the hurt flash through his features before he masks it behind a clenched jaw. Ominis exhales sharply, sounding almost relieved, before he schools his expression into something carefully composed. His shoulders loosen, and there’s the briefest flicker of something in his posture—hope, maybe, or something close to it.

Before you can speak, Sebastian brushes past you, his hand shooting out to grip the front of Ominis’s shirt.

“Don’t look so fucking smug,” Sebastian snaps, his voice low and dangerous. “She hasn’t said anything yet.”

Ominis doesn’t flinch. He stands his ground, lips pressed together in a thin, unreadable line. His hands remain at his sides, but you see the faintest tremor in his fingers. His voice, however, is steady when he replies.

“Does it scare you, Sebastian?” he murmurs, his head tilting just slightly. “The idea that, maybe, for once, you’re not the only one who matters?”

Sebastian’s grip tightens on Ominis’s shirt, and for a moment, neither of them moves. The air is taut, stretched thin like a wire about to snap. Ominis is taller, his presence sharp and imposing, but Sebastian is the one with strength on his side, his stance coiled tight like a drawn bowstring.

“Say that again,” Sebastian growls, his voice dropping even lower, roughened by barely restrained fury.

Ominis doesn’t hesitate. “You heard me.”

And then, to your horror, Ominis reaches for Sebastian’s shirt in return. His fingers, slender but firm, curl into the fabric, mirroring the grip Sebastian has on him. It’s not quite a shove, but the tension between them spikes, raw and volatile. Your breath catches, panic clawing at your chest.

“Ominis,” you breathe, stepping forward, but neither of them acknowledges you.

Sebastian’s fingers flex against Ominis’s collar, his jaw locked tight. “You think this is about me?” he spits. “You think I don’t care what she wants?”

“Do you?” Ominis presses. His grip tightens. “Because all I’ve ever seen you do is pull and pull and pull until she’s too caught up in your orbit to break free.”

Sebastian’s whole body goes rigid, like Ominis just landed a direct hit where it hurts most. You see it in his expression—that flicker of something deep and wounded before it twists into anger.

“She’s not yours to defend, Ominis,” Sebastian bites out, voice shaking with barely contained frustration. “And she’s sure as hell not yours to decide for.”

“And yet, here you are,” Ominis returns, unyielding. “Acting like the only person who gets to have a say is you.”

The muscles in Sebastian’s arms flex, his fingers trembling against the fabric of Ominis’s shirt, as though he’s on the verge of pushing, of shoving, of—

“Stop it!”

Your voice cuts through the space between them, raw and desperate.

They freeze.

The silence that follows is deafening.

You take a step back, breath shuddering, hands curling into fists at your sides. You feel the heat rising up your throat, the sharp sting of frustration prickling behind your eyes.

"You—" Your voice shakes with something raw, something close to fury. "Do either of you even hear yourselves right now?"

Sebastian's gaze snaps to you, still burning with frustration, but something else flickers beneath it—something hesitant.

Ominis’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

"You’re both acting like children," you spit, your voice rising. "Like this is some petty fight over who gets the last fucking piece of cake instead of a real, human person standing right in front of you!"

Sebastian tenses. "That’s not—"

"Don’t," you snap, cutting him off, chest heaving. "Don’t you dare try telling me this isn’t exactly what it looks like. Like I haven’t just stood here and listened to you two rip each other apart over me."

You shake your head, anger curling hot in your chest, almost unbearable. "Neither of you are fucking listening. Neither of you are stopping for one second to actually ask me what I want. You’re both just deciding, making assumptions, thinking you know what’s best, thinking you have any right to—"

Your voice catches, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

"Did it ever occur to you—either of you—that if you wanted to know how I felt, you could have just asked?! And if you had, then you'd know—" You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking your head. "You'd know I can't choose!"

The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel the weight of them settle into the space between you. You don't even know if you mean won’t or can’t. You just know it’s the truth, and you want them to hear it, to feel it, to finally understand the weight they’ve been forcing you to carry.

Sebastian’s mouth opens, but you cut him off before he can even start.

"Because if you had asked," Your voice wavers, and you hate it, hate the way your throat tightens, the way tears burn at the edges of your vision. "You’d know that every time I’m with one of you, I feel like I’m hurting the other. That my heart is breaking constantly because I see it, I see the way it destroys you both. And I don’t know how to fix it."

Your breath is unsteady, fists clenching at your sides. "You think this is easy for me? That I like feeling like I’m being torn in two? Like no matter what I do, I’m going to end up hurting someone I love?"

You shake your head, feeling heat creep up your neck, anger and grief colliding in a whirlwind you can’t stop. "I am so tired. Tired of feeling guilty just for existing in the space between you. Tired of knowing that no matter what I do, I’ll never be enough for either of you because you both want me to be something I can’t be!"

The silence is suffocating, but you don’t stop.

"You think he pulls me into his orbit?" you snap at Ominis, eyes blazing. "Then what the hell do you think you do? You sit there, self-righteous and brooding, waiting for me to prove something to you, like I have to earn your permission to exist between the two of you!"

Ominis swallows hard, and for finally, his composure cracks.

"And you," you turn on Sebastian, breathing hard. "You think he’s the only one who makes decisions for me? You do it all the time. You assume what I want, what I need, what I’m thinking, and you don’t even ask before making a choice for me!"

Sebastian’s expression shatters, his hands flexing like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t dare.

You take a step back, throat thick with everything you’ve held inside for too long. "You both act like you know what’s best for me. But you never once stopped to listen—to really listen—to me."

The words hang heavy between you, and in their silence, you finally hear it. The sound of your own breaking heart.

You exhale shakily, swallowing hard before whispering, "I love you both."

Sebastian lets out a quiet, almost pained breath. Ominis turns his face slightly away, as if the words physically struck him.

"And I hate it," you continue, voice barely above a whisper. "I hate that it’s not enough. That no matter how much I love you both, it's destined to end like this. With fighting. With pain. With one of you walking away while the other pretends they’ve won something."

A pause. A silence so thick it almost drowns you.

And then you take another step back.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Sebastian inhales sharply. Ominis’s hands twitch.

You shake your head one last time, voice hoarse, empty. "If you really cared about me, you wouldn’t put me in this position at all."

With that, you turn and walk away.

[ryanisasleep]

Im dying for some Nikto x Male Reader :'( There's nothing out there for me. Can I request, Nikto with a Cocky and Arrogant S/O? Can Be SFW or NSFW Thank you ❤️

Nikto x male!reader

(I hope I satisfied it as best as I could <33)

TW: hate sex with feelings and happy ending, insults, brusing.

Ok so if you don't like this, you can block this account and nothing more.

Requests are open if you were wondering :)

Btw I changed a bit the story so it is better in some parts

Ohhhhhhh you made me think of hate sex…god I have a good fucking small story inside my stupid head….raaaaaawwww Gnawing the bars of my enclosure. Btw you are too kind :( there you go ‘boops their head’ you will be 🤍anon.

Hate you…or do I?

NSFW so MDNI - Hate sex, swearing, fighting, blood, sex with hidden feelings

Nikto enjoys seeing your cocky attitude falter as he spits blood on your self esteem and walks over your decisions saying that they are clouded by your arrogant judgment and are not safe to be considered even remotely efficient. . .you thought that being the same rank as him and having relatively the same experiences could be of some help when shaming him all day before crossing eachother’s path and growling at the mere presence of the other.

The situation escalated when he began to push you into any wall anytime he could and bruising your mouth by roughly kissing it with his teeth while digging his nails into your clothed waist. You on the other hand tried doing the same as you weren’t going down without a fight, and managed to dig some bloody cuts on his shoulders. It continued like this; bickering sessions ended up with bruised lips and trembling legs trying to push the other away to regain some dignity.

The hate and tension reached its peak when Nikto ended up pushing you into your bed and digging his teeth into your bottom lip drawing out blood and insults. He ripped off your clothes and you did the same. Some blood and bruises were forming on your bodies but that was a matter for the after.

He wanted to say ‘You did good on the last mission’ instead of ‘You fucker, you failed everything and you couldn’t even do a simple task’ as he scratched forcefully your broad back after pinching the fresh healed wounds on your torso drawing out a silent scream out your mouth. ‘Thanks for your presence and for covering my back- back there’ ‘Shut your virgin ass since you don’t do any better, at least I am a liked person around’, you flipped your positions. Now you were on top of him with your legs pressed between his and you were clamping your teeth down on his neck. It hurt a lot. . .and Nikto couldn’t accept that, his pride was too big and high to let you on him and in a swift move he turned you down on the mattress, ‘You are only good at taking it up the ass! Moron, you should have been a stripper at this point! A failed one because I bet my salary that you wouldn't even grab the attention of a drunken man ahah!’

Spit drooled out his mouth like a carnivore savoring his newly catched prey. He didn’t want to admit it but…he really wanted to see you like that again. He was lost in his own world for a while and got back to his senses after you barked back a cocky:

‘At least I am useful to something, unlike you who can only bark out orders like a certain Colonel I know and be like an angry volcano all the goodamn fucking time!' your voice was restrained as you couldn’t quiet breath since a strong hand was holding you - choking you in the messy bed.

You then yelped out in stinking pain, he sticked his fingers inside you without a warning and without an ounce of lube, such as spit. The stretch was hurtful and you hated how good the pads of his pointer and middle fingers worked around your sensible spot, fucking and overstimutaling it till you were just panting out short breaths and trying to get up on your elbows, to then try to shove the one you looked up the most off. He pushed you down again, this time forcing your neck down and letting breathing become harder, he took away his fingers and pushed your ass up. You could sense his eyes wander to all of your upper and lower back imaging all the thoughts that might be crossing his filthy and rotted brain. You hear his belt unbuckle and the low but intriguing squelches from his fingers taking some of his saliva out the mouth (you really wanted to devour that mouth harshly) and wetting down his cock.

He pushed his length inside without a warning and he grunted out at the sudden enveloping sensation trying his hardest not to bottom out. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, how much you wanted to have his hand prints on your body and how much you wanted your neck to be bruised with his teeth marks and fingers, but only a stream of curses came out of your mouth. He rams into you, mounting you and keeping you close in seemingly fear of you going away, your cock brushing repeatedly the wooly sheets creating a friction that makes you see stars and finish immediately without a warning. After a couple of more seconds he comes into you grunting like an animal, securing you under his crushing weight. He had his eyes closed, his mask long since thrown away in some part of the room and all his features visible.

You saw the burn mark on the right side covering the skin until his eye and the long slash dividing his mouth from the left. You loved him, well love was there but you couldn’t phrase it, you wanted to put your hand under his chin but all you could ever do was to choke him if possible. He feels the same, his heart swells with pain as you twooften brawl but he can't, it's too hard. Nikto wants to try and sew your situationship back to ‘’normality’’ but his voices tell him otherwise, to do anything other than good.

He stays a shameful silent. After some time of not deciding what to do, he rolled to the side and heard the aftermath still inside you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

He knows that now you will get up, clean yourself up and leave while giving him a disgusting look because you have no reason to stay, but that was not what he wanted. His stupid brain couldn’t voice his wants and needs and that resulted in the formation of this vicious cycle of this love-hate relationship. He loved you dearly, but he could only spit out venom because he didn’t know how to phrase what he felt.

Instead of letting his grip loose, he started rubbing small circles on your firm stomach feeling your toned muscle fibers underneath, the veins going under adorned the neatly taken care of hair forming a nice happy trail. You hated not shaving them so they were always short.

He put one of his hands at the center of your chest and passed his fingers between your body hair, sweaty from before, and noticed that your heart rate was very calm, calmer than it should’ve been. He inhaled your scent from the nape of your neck and reopened his eyes as he whispered an almost sad ‘’Don’t leave, please’’.

You shifted, embracing the hand on your lower stomach with your own and sighed. ‘’Why…” you were tired, tired of all of this so you decided to be patient and hear what he had to say.

All he could think of and speak was ‘’Just. . .don’t please.’’ His hands twitched, you knew that sign, he was struggling internally and maybe making some of his thoughts scram away. You took some pity on him and decided to stay as you even had no energy to get up.

A silent strange air hugged you two while he rested, he began to tighten his grip and growl a ‘’Go away, fuck i hate you’’. He was not having this yet you sensed he didn’t really mean it. After he came back, he was different, you found himself many times talking to himself or gripping his forearms in anger so tightly that you swore blood was seeping out of the wounds but as you tried to help him and make him voice what was wrong, the answer you got was ‘’Fuck off’’.

He crawled back like a wounded animal and slipped out many words between voices and strangers taunting him every waking moment of the day. You and Nikto have been first colleagues and then close friends but as he began, over the years, that cycle of insults and unnecessary sparring, you couldn’t do anything else other than fight back.

“Easy there, it’s just us and no one else. you don’t need to do and say anything, remember only things you can touch and feel are real”

It was the mantra you had made him remember like a prayer in case his episodes were becoming too much, but they could only do so little. He repeated them whispering with a broken voice as he breathed heavily.

“Sorry, for everything…” he half cried as he lost the capacity to do so many years ago and sat hiding his eyes in his hands. You turned and looked at him with a sad look, you sat too and put your hand on his back and said “It’s fine”.

With that, you two looked at eachother with knowing looks, he said he loved you but also those parts of him did not, but he did. You said you loved him too and would help him with medications if needed and how to end things up. Being in a relationship was prohibited and could result in both of you being discharged with dishonor so being together was off limits.

The other people on base remained firm in believing that you two hated each other to the bone so you two decided to stick with that routine. Night fell quickly and you found yourself in his arms sleeping the night off. In the morning though, you had to wake up early to not raise suspects.

[minminbunny]

Academic Rivals AU - Lee Felix/Gender Neutral! Reader

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"How much did you score this time, class pres'?" You asked, crossing your arms. Felix leaned back into his seat, "Baek," he said, showing his perfect hundred per cent score. You bit back a smug smirk, "That's great. I got Baek-," you said before Felix cut you off saying, "Oh, so we're even," he said, smirking at you. "As I was saying, I got Baek Sip," you said, showing him the extra plus ten on the side of your test. Felix's eyes widened, "How the fuck is that even possible?" he exclaimed, snatching your paper to compare your answers with his. You chuckled at him, "You're not going to find a mist-," you said when he cut you off again. "Ahah! You got this one wrong!" he said, leaping out of his seat and sprinting towards the teacher's lounge. Your blood cold, "Yah! Lee Felix Yongbok!" you screamed, running after him.

"Hey, long time no see," you whispered, your personality dimming after multiple burnouts. Felix furrowed his eyebrows, "So, how's uni doing for you?" he asked, not used to seeing you this drained. "Alright," you whispered, fidgeting with your fingers. Felix scoffed, gently nudging you, "So are your scores still on par with mine?" he asked, his smirk instantly dropping when he saw your lips wobble. "Hey, hey, hey. I was just teasing," he whispered, guilt filling his heart. You tilted your head back, hoping the tears wouldn't fall, "My scores are still above average," you whispered, knowing your CGPA always remained near three.

Felix nodded, "That's good. That's good," he whispered, rubbing the back of his nape. You bit your bottom, not wanting to continue the conversation but at the same time you missed this. You missed bickering with him. You missed out on scoring each other. "Hey, Lix?" you whispered, making eye contact for the first time during the whole conversation. Felix immediately turned his attention towards you, "Yeah? What is it?" he asked, locking eyes with you. "I know this seems sudden but could we do a kangaroo maths quiz? For nostalgia's sake?" you asked, hoping he'd agree. Felix chuckled, smirking at you, "Get ready to get your ass beaten, sweetheart," he said, drawing a subtle giggle from you. "Bring it on, freckles," you said, instantly opening the tab. Felix gasped, "Wait for me!" he chuckled, trying to grab your phone so he could catch up.

NSFW BELOW CUT

"Are you sure about this, sunshine?" Felix asked, rubbing your bare thighs. You nodded, "Of course. I'm going to give you the best head of your life," you said, looking up at him. Felix chuckled, "Oh yeah? You think you can give head better than me?" he teased, rubbing the base of your tummy. You smirked, flipping onto top of him, "Watch and learn, freckles," you said, tugging down his sweats. Felix hissed, the cold air hitting his hot shaft. You licked your lips and rubbed your nose against his frenulum. Felix bit back a groan, his bangs slowly matting on his forehead. You giggled, wrapping your lips around his leaking cockhead. "You think that's enough to make me cum, sweet, ah, heart?" he grits, gripping the sheets. You smirked around his throbbing gland and relaxed your throat. "Fuck, hah!" Felix growled as you took his whole length in one easy swoop. You swallowed around his cock, his pulsing cock head breaching your fluttering esophagus. Felix tugged your hair, "Fuck you," he moaned with a high pitch whimper as he ejaculated prematurely. You drank up every last drop with a smug smile on your lips, "I win," you said, kissing his messy slit. Felix cracked the joints in his neck, "Game on," he growled, manhandling you. "Do your worst, freckles," you chuckled, seeing the competitive rage in his eyes.

[nmakii]

an endless diamond sky

— kaiser m. x aladdin

entry three of “someday, my prince will come!”

ever since he saw you in the marketplace, michael kaiser knew that you were the one he wanted. so what if you were a princess, and he was a street rat, living in the dumps? it was true love. nothing could beat that.

um… well, maybe other than the fact that your father’s advisor tried to behead him.

“i’m telling you, just be yourself. she’ll fall head over heels for you. she almost kissed you in the marketplace, didn’t she?” isagi, the genie, asked. and while that was an unchangeable truth, kaiser couldn’t help thinking that you wouldn’t love him unless he was a prince. “rules say the princess can only marry a prince. it doesn’t matter if michael is the one she wants.” prince kaiser bitterly scoffed.

he hoisted himself on his magic carpet, using his agility and long limbs to climb onto your balcony. he ignored the protests of his genie, repeatedly shouting about how this was a bad idea. “zip it already, would you? i’m winning a princess here.” kaiser spat out. isagi seriously couldn’t stand him, he talked about his true love like she was a prize to be won. he groaned, rolling his eyes. “he’ll set me free? tch, crappy master…” he muttered to himself, not loud enough to be heard by the prideful prince.

“prince kaiser? what are you doing?” you asked suspiciously, rightfully wary of the stranger. your tiger, hyoma, bared his fangs— prepared to attack another suitor. “ah— princess, my dear. good evening.” kaiser grinned, the joyous snarl of his lips akin to that of jafar. as hyoma stood to attack, he clumsily adjusted the turban on his head, carelessly giving you a peek to the hidden blonde and blue hair underneath.

and you couldn’t help, but think back to your thieving savior in the marketplace.

“say… have we met before..? in the marketplace, perhaps?” you raised an eyebrow, carefully observing the prince’s features more carefully. kaiser’s stomach dropped as his mind raced to think of an excuse. “me? in the marketplace? ahah! why, princess, you make me laugh!” he chuckled, his snobbish tone made your disdain for him grow even more.

“this is my first time in agrabah, princess. my servants often come to buy your kingdom’s goods,” he explains. “and it was only recently that they told me of… their beautiful princess, and her conundrum in finding a husband.” he hummed. he leaned in closer, trying his luck.

internally, you could only scoff at his arrogance. how could he think he could speak to you like that? “oh yeah?” you deadpanned, “you think a mighty prince such as yourself with 75 golden camels, and 53 purple peacocks could swoon a princess like me?” you pressed against his toned chest. your delicate fingers, soft from never doing a day’s work in your life, fed his ego.

“of course, princess. it’s all part of a prince’s journey; live well, fight a war, marry a princess… you know how it goes.” he shrugs. he, in fact, did not know how it goes. his nonsensical blabber was a mindless yap— you couldn’t understand what he was saying! you chose to let him believe this silly delusion for awhile, “mhm? well, i do think i’m quite the catch… daughter of a sultan… rich, beautiful…” you whisper.

michael’s eyes eased up, his lips curled into a smile. “very beautiful, princess…” he agreed, dazed with infatuation. “a fine bride for any prince. especially one such as yourself…” your hand moved up to his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone. he nods, relaxing against the guardrail.

“one like you… and every other pompous prince!” you grunted, pulling his turban over his eyes, and pulling his cape over his head.

“ugh..! princess!” kaiser called out, disgruntled as he fixes his appearance. “what’d i tell you? just gotta jump now.” a mini-isagi shrugged. kaiser groaned at isagi’s ridiculing words. “just be yourself.” he sighed, and michael’s stubbornness wavered. “you’re right.” he sighed

as you were storming off, you paused and turned back. “excuse me?” you asked. michael cleared his throat, and repeated himself— much more cowardly than before. “y—ugh… you’re right. i was being too self-centered. you deserve more than this trapped life. i’ll leave.” he sighs, jumping off the guardrail.

“wait!” you called out to him, trying to stop this lunatic of a prince from killing himself.

his head popped up, appearing as if he was floating. “h…how are you doing that?” you asked, not believing the sight before you of prince kaiser flying on a magical carpet. “never heard of a magic carpet?” he snarks, boasting the tricks his carpet can do.

“but— that’s impossible, isn’t it?” you asked, touching the tassels of the carpet. michael’s posture relaxed, flexible instead of his stiff straightness. “it’s only impossible when you give up.” he remarked, extending a hand. “hop on, princess.”

“is it safe?” you tilted your head, taking his hand. almost immediately, he pulled you on, and into his arms. “just trust me.”

[kyouka-supremacy]

i think atsushi has slowly, almost imperceptibly, become an expert at reading akutagawa. and sometimes, it catches akutagawa off-guard. atsushi can sense when something’s wrong. even through the driest, most neutral responses. one of the most quietly moving things about akutagawa is how honest he is. but he undercuts his own feelings constantly, like he doesn’t believe they matter. atsushi sees through all of that. maybe even better than akutagawa himself by now.

he doesn’t always say something. sometimes, he just gives akutagawa one of his soft, steady looks—the “you don’t have to hide from me, you know.” and it stuns akutagawa every time. because that look makes space. it makes room for feelings he usually buries. and so, slowly, he starts giving his emotions a little more of a fair chance. if the weretiger thinks they’re worth paying attention to... perhaps he can try. he’s not always successful. defensiveness still comes first. it’s instinctive, a shield before he even knows he’s raised it. but that care, that quiet attention atsushi offers—it sticks in his head. it stays. and somehow, that starts to matter.

(i hope you feel better soon. the sheer love and care you put into your blogs is so wonderful. so genuine. it inspires me to be freely passionate about the things i love too!! <3)

Oh God. Oh God, I love all of this so much 😭😭😭 This is all so true. I agree with this on a spiritual level. The thing is, that Atsushi is canonly perceptive of people in general. It's made explicit in chapter 51 (below), but you can also tell how acute he is by how quick he was to clock the ministry of justice official for lying to him in chapter 57.

The thing is, this already established skill of his only gets amplified tenfold when it's Akutagawa because- you already know why. Because their hearts beat in sync and they know each other better than they know themselves. So yeah, Atsushi would notice. Would immediately realize if something is up with Akutagawa, no matter that Akutagawa's complex relationship with his own emotions and ever swinging temperament makes it hard to tell. To me it's especially heartwarming that oftentimes Atsushi will realize Akutagawa has something that's bothering him before Akutagawa realizes it himself. And another very sweet trope, when in fics Atsushi meets Beast Akutagawa, and he's identical to Akutagawa in everything; yet Atsushi can tell immediately, from a very raw, very visceral feeling, that that's not his Akutagawa. Because he just knows him so well! Not from anything that he can pinpoint in particular, but rather just a primal feeling of recognition for his other half when he sees it.

Not to mention Akutagawa's utter shock and disorientation at this. Because to be read so accurately, even back when they were still at their knife-at-each-other's-throats stage, left him bare and defenseless all of sudden, with no notice or time to prepare. It's different from how it was with Dazai, who didn't read Akutagawa as much as he controlled him to feel the emotions he wanted to, coerced the emotional reaction he wanted out of him. Atsushi doesn't do that; he simply understands. And that only doubles down the impact that has on Akutagawa after he's realized it, because no one had cared to understand him before; and it's terrifying.

I love how you described Atsushi handling it 🥺 This is yet again something that makes me very soft about them (although, I realize I'm saying that for everything they do ahah), the way they're... Not accustomed to look after each other rather than hurt; but there'll come a point where they'll want to, whether they're good at it or not. And Atsushi *is* a little good at it, because, kindness comes easier to him, right? Perhaps not when direct to Akutagawa, but even then, he's determined to learn. And the sskk progression of going from a place where they can only hurt each other, to one where they care for and nurse the other at the best of their abilities is endlessly touching.

[jedtavius-week]

here is your gift @absolutely-and-always13 !! sorry for the wait, its a mix of a doodle and a short fic (to compensate that its shorter ahah) hope you like it! :D happy holidays! fic under the cut ;)

“Faster!” Jed yelled, one hand holding his cowboy hat so that it wouldn’t get lost. “He is catching up!” Beside him, Octavius laughed and pressed the pedal down as far as it would go. They skidded around the corner, almost too fast. Behind them, the giant T-Rex skeleton followed them, trying to get his bone back. It was their nightly activity. Rexy needed the exercise, or he would get restless and try to hunt the animals. One week, their small car was broken and Larry had taken AGES to repair it, and Rexy actually ate one of the Neaderthales. Well, he ripped him to shreds and then tried to swallow him. They actually had managed to put him together again and he only looked slightly mangled, so he had to stand in the back now but eh, it was fine. Now that the car got fixed, they could take Rexy out for exercise again. “Oh, look out”, Jed screamed when they skidded too far around the corner. But it was too late. While they made the turn, Rexy did not and crashed directly into the Christmas tree, throwing it over with full force. The tree shattered in many pieces, Christmas balls and lights flying everywhere, covering the ground in shards. “Oh oh”, Octavius and Jed said at the same time. The car came to a stop and Rexy happily grabbed his bone, and Jed was reeling to loosen the rope that connected the single bone to their car and not have it ripped up in the air and possibly broken again. Then the two looked at the downed tree in silence, until Rexy was bored with the bone and started trying to chew the tree. “No! Stop!”, both of them yelled at the same time - tho of course it didn’t deter the T-Rex who loved cracking each and every Christmas ornament open and then pulling out the garlands. “And now?”, Jed asked after they had watched Rexy take the tree apart meticulously. “They need that for the Christmas Party tomorrow! We are dead if they find out!” A twinkle from the windows caught their attention and both of them had a figurative lightbulb over their head. A few minutes later they were climbing on Rexy. Octavius then put the stick forward to which they had fixed a single shiny Christmas ornament, which caught the dinosaur's attention. He tried to reach it, making one step, then another. “It works!” Jed said happily and clapped Octavius on the back. “Now let's go!” They steered Rexy out of the museum and towards their target. “Mum look! There is a Christmas dinosaur!”, a little girl cried, pointing out of the window. “Anna, shut up. You are watching too much TV!” her mum scolded, because when she looked out of the window, there was nothing. “But there was!” “You look too much on that stupid phone of yours.” This scene happened, in one way or another, in many households in New York that night. The three outside didn’t notice of course. They were set on their target - well Jed and Octavius were, Rexy was constantly getting distracted by shiny lights and Christmas decorations around. “Next time we take the car!” Jed complained, when Rexy took yet another detour to try and eat yet ANOTHER inflatable Santa Clause. “If you tell me how we are supposed to transport a Christmas tree with our car, sure”, Octavius muttered. Jed huffed, but had to admit he was right. And after Rexy was disappointed when the inflatable Santa lost all of his air, they managed to get him to keep walking. And then there was their target in sight. “It’s a bit big, do you think, it will fit?”, Jed asked and Octavius eyed the tree up and down. “It will. I think. If not we will get the beavers to gnaw off part of the lower part.” They both nodded. “Now we just need to make sure that Rexy will not destroy it again.” “And carry it back.”

“Go fetch!”, Jed yelled, and pointed in the direction. They had put Rexy's bone in the tree - which had been a struggle to do, but the only plan they had come up with. And now the T-Rex - who had been busy trying to lick the ice in the ice rink - snapped his head up, locking in on his target. He was over to the tree with a few big strides, grabbing it and trying to lift it. Once. Then twice. Then a third time. It was not looking good. “We are so dead”, Octavius groaned and buried his face in his hands. But Rexy was not easily deterred. It was his bone, and his big stick and he WOULD get it. He growled and put all his weight into the next pull - and it worked. He lifted the tree straight from his stand and made a happy noise. “Yes!” The two cheered happily and got back on. Now there was a problem tho. The tree was so big that none of them could see where they were going. And Rexy had a lot of sparkling Christmas ornaments in front of him. Steering wouldn’t work anymore. “Uhmmm.” They looked at each other. “And now?” But before they could start coming up with a plan, Rexy began to walk. “Oh, this is not good!”, Octavius said, but they could only hold on and hope Rexy would eventually go back to the museum - before the sun went up too. Because the dinosaur was not deterred by anything. Shouting, pulling, ordering - nothing worked. They also couldn’t see that Rexy had spotted a bus with a Santa Clause on it - and was determined to see if that one was edible. He was following the bus, growling when his prey kept getting away from him time and time again. Conveniently, the bus took the route to the museum, and seemingly the driver didn’t notice that he was followed by a big Christmas tree carrying dinosaur. In front of the museum, the bus had to stop at a red light long enough for Rexy to finally catch up and growl angrily when his prey turned out to be a piece of metal. Frustrated, the dinosaur turned towards the museum to go home, flicking the image of Santa hard with his tail as he turned around and breaking it. Inside, they actually had to call the beavers over, because the tree trunk didn’t fit in the stand, but it was done pretty soon and then they were all standing around and admiring their new Christmas tree. They had simply put the old tree somewhere in the basement, hoping no one would ever find it. “It’s a bit bigger than the old one”, Octavius said. “Yeah well, they won’t notice.” Jed wrapped an arm around the Roman. The next morning Dr. McPhee and Larry stood in the entrance hall of the museum, looking at the tree. “Is there any explanation why our Christmas tree is gone and was replaced with the ROCKEFELLER CENTER CHRISTMAS TREE?!” Behind them, the radio was playing news about a Christmas dinosaur.

[l0h3ngrin]

Taiga x gn!cat-Reader!

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Summary: saw someone on here asking for a cat girl mc one shot with taiga, she gets hit with an anomalous disease and has to work with Sinostra while this is happening! :3 added my own little twist to it though!!

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, crack(?) (idk what you guys call comedy now don’t come for me 💔💔)

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It’s been a rough day for you, first you have to go on a mission with one of your least favorite houses because they’re batshit insane, they being Sinostra, then you have to fight some weird cat anomaly thats been terrorizing this rich resort by Harajuku going undercover as cleaning staff, and on top of that when the four of you go and capture the anomaly it managed to give you a mean scratch!

Now, it would’ve been nice to say that you successfully managed to catch the anomaly but sadly that isn’t the case. Why? It’s because that stupid fucking red head ATE it. God you’re just so tired but at least you’re back at darkwick. After having Sinostra sign the investigation off for you, you then go to Mortkranken to get that scratch checked out.

On your way there you start feeling a bit off, a bit dizzy like the worlds spinning, quickening your pace you notice that for some odd reason your senses have slowly become stronger, you can hear things clearer, you can smell way better than normal, hell you could almost feel the molecules of air touching your fingertips.

“Augh!” You run into something, rubbing your head to sooth the pain, you look up to notice that you’ve made it to Mortkranken, finally! Opening the door you make a beeline straight to Yuri’s office making sure to knock on the door before entering. “Jiro, I told you to go and send in the report to the headmaster once you’re done with the autopsy, do i have to do everything myself! Im a busy man you know!!” “Ah- actually its y/n..sorry to interrupt you..” you reply shyly.

“Oh.. I-I KNEW THAT!!” Yuri quickly says with flushed cheeks, “anyways what is it that you-“ He freezes mid sentence as he looks at you with his eyes like saucers with the way he stared at you widely, “-want…” you’re confused but you decide to ignore it and just tell him what it is you need. “Well, earlier today during my mission with Sinostra I got scratched by this cat anomaly we where trying to capture, I came here to ask if you could check it out and disinfect it. I know you’re busy but I doubt Romeo would want to help me and Ritsu ran off saying he needed to meet up with some client of his.”

“Y-yeah, I can see that…” you look at him, again confusion written all over your face, but this time you decide to ask him instead of ignore, “what do you mean?” “What do you mean what do I mean? Have you SEEN yourself!” He says as if stating the obvious, “uhm..no..what are you even talking about? Look, if you’re just here to judge me for looking like a mess instead of helping me i’ll go find professor Nicholas to help.” You say huffing, a pout forming on your face, yuri quickly stops you though, “NO! N-no, I’m being serious here!! God why are you so fucking stupid.” He mutters at the end face palming, as he continues “I MEAN look in the mirror!! Like actually! Here!!” He quickly looks around his messy ass office looking for something as you give him a skeptical look.

“AHAH! Here!” You flinch a little from that, but take the mirror he hands to you, it drops to the floor. “Do you see what i mean now?!” He asks (yells) you. You can’t believe this. Picking up the mirror again you look at yourself closely, you have cat ears. You have whiskers. Whats worse of all you realize something tickling your legs, looking down you see a cat tail. “Fuck.” This has to be from the scratch that damn anomaly gave you, theres no other explanation for it! You, again, ask Yuri to help you out with the situation and he does, quickly taking you to his lab and running some tests on you.

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About two hours have passed since that little tragedy, in that time you where given a medication prescribed by the one and only Yuri himself, and once you left you gave professor Moby the signed documents, you both ended up discussing your…current issue for a while and by the end he said he had ANOTHER document that you had to give to Sinostra, more specifically to the captain, none other than Taiga.

Now you where on your way walking to Sinostra, worried about how everyone would react to this new look of yours, especially Taiga, he was probably gonna laugh his ass off, or he might be in a mad mood and torture you by like cutting off your tail or something! Actually now that you think about it, would you be able to feel anything from your tail? Is it now an extension of your body?

After overthinking your way to the casino you finally made it. Making your way through the crowd and ignoring the stares you try and see if Taiga’s anywhere to be seen at one of the booths. After a few minutes of searching you come to the conclusion he must be in his room being weird and menacing or something.

Reaching his door you take a deep breath, heart pounding and hands clammy- jeez when did you even start to get this nervous? Closing your eyes you take one more breath to calm your nerves a bit and knock on the door, “h-hello? Taiga Professor Moby wanted me to have you sign this-“ the door bursts open as you feel someone pull you in and pin you against the door as soon as its shut. “Who the fuck’re you and waddaya want?” You look up to see Taiga quite literally bearing his fangs at you growling. Um okay furry the fuck?

You quickly shake your head to clear your thoughts, “ah- uhm- i’m here because professor Moby wanted me to give you this document to sign!” You say quickly pulling out said document with shaky hands. Looking you up and down, he smirks all of a sudden, “well look at you, what a pretty kitty, came all this way to see me huh?” He backs away from you and sits down on the couch in front of his bed, “c’mere, gimmie that.” He gestures to the documents.

Quickly giving him the papers you take a few steps back to give him space, as he’s skimming over it he steals a few glances from you before he finally signs it. Reaching out for the document he quickly pulls it out of your reach, “nuh uh. Before i give you this yer g’na tell me where i know ya from, got it?” He looks at you expectantly, as you sigh, “we where just on a mission together the other day, theres no way you forgot about me that quickly…i’m dumbass number 2 remember?” He gives a look of realization as he finally remembers, “ OHH RIGHT DUMBASS NUMBER 2 LMAO!! Jeez I couldn’t remember ya with that new look ya got, so you got it to impress me or somethin’ im assuming? Please, relax there I know i’m hot shit but no need to take it to the extreme, i’ll remember ya’ soon enough.” He says with a smirk getting up from the couch. “No, actually- This ‘new look’ is from the anomaly we had to deal with yesterday, it scratched me and I must’ve gotten infected by the scratch seeing as how I look like this now” you say matter of factly

He rests a hand on his chin, “really now? Well whatever the reason may be I still call that you did it so I could notice you, which is totally okay ‘cuz you where pretty hot, and now yer’ even hotter!” Blushing you scoff and turn around so he can’t see you, although your tail seems to give everything away, “w-whatever, if we’re done here I have to go, see you later Taiga.” You begin walking to the door, and as you’re about to place your hand on the handle a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you away, “not so fast kitten, i’m not done with ya’ I wanna play with you a little before I let you go.” Your eyes go wide as you blush even harder at the new nickname he’s given you.

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A/n: hey guyss sorry this one probably wasn’t the best! I literally wrote all of this within the span of like 30-45 mins like just now and its 11pm 😭 im super exhausted, but i hope you enjoyed!! Also tagging the person who had this idea! :)) (thank you for this i was bored outta my mind and i wanted to write something)

(Person who came up with the idea) @everyonesfinaldestination