#you know the little mrrp

[ivebeensetonfire]

You know when you poke your sleeping cat, that noise they make? The activation noise? That’s a good noise.

#you know the little mrrp #mrrp #warm and cozy #sleepy #cats #kittys #idiot boys #silly bois

[mountain-lion-gremlin]

Gonna talk a bit about p-shifting in my opinion because I feel inspired and I honestly am bores

I don't really think I per say agree with the idea that p-shifting can only happen when you are young, or that you cannot voluntarily p-shift at all. I have a feeling that I would've shifted when I was younger, but when you are so focused on surviving your human years you literally cannot expend anymore energy besides what is required of you. (also I'm not even sure if I did shift when I was younger, due to trauma I have memory loss of my childhood 💀, I barely remember much before 12 years of age.)

So I could've, but I literally don't know if I did or didn't 🤷

I don't think you can "learn" to p-shift through lessons, or guides, or methods. But I do think you can learn from experimenting and seeing what others have to say about it. P-shifting is incredibly personal, and I believe that the only way for you to actually p-shift is to realize that there is no method for yourself and you just have *to do it*. Nothing more, nothing less.

I feel like the community as of late has complicated it A LOT, trying to use a bunch of science and methods and workarounds with explanations.... I mean like what else is there to do only you can shift yourself you gotta just sit down and try to do it when you can.

And also, I've noticed that many have said that to p-shift you just sit and mediate and boom you shift (from therians and others who don't do or identify with p-shifting) and like... no? The methods that are seen seem to just be about meditation, but once you try and experience it yourself it's so much deeper than that. There's a lot that goes into it, that I wish I could put into better words besides "a reaching and deep clawing for securing a connection"? That doesn't do it justice really lol

I don't know today has been a long day of muttering and wondering stuff about p-shifting.

#p-shift #mountain lion.txt #reflecting back I literally don't know if I have p-shifted before or not #when you have such large gaps in your memory it makes you wonder #like I remember a bunch from when I was 4 #then it's like very very little until I'm suddenly 10 #then I remember a lot more stuff after that #it's weird and it throws me off #physical nonhuman #I do ramble #we need more essays.in the community #mrrp

[kookyburrowing]

My first piece for @swartists4palestine! I’m calling it “Rage the Tooka”, and it was written for @indistinctchatt3r. Hope you enjoy!! (I did include Codywan but it’s more implied than anything else.)

-

Cody stares at it.  It stares back.  “What are you doing here?” he asks.  

It screeches and lunges at his face.   

This is when he discovers it has claws.  By the time he has pried it off of him, he’s bleeding from several places.  

It meeps indignantly as he lifts it up by the armpits.  Leg pits?  It’s a quadruped.  The thing is…well, it’s fluffy.  It’s cute, when it’s not trying to rip his skin off, or maybe even then.  “You remind me of Rex,” he tells it.  “When he was four and decided biting was an affectionate thing.”

It meeps again and tilts its head before attacking again.  Cody rips it off.  Again.  

It meeps and attempts a third attack.  This is unacceptable.  

Cody must regroup.  

“You adopted a tooka,” Rex says.  

“Yes.”

Even over comms, Cody can tell he’s holding back laughter.  

“What did you name it?”  

Cody is not here.  Cody had absconded.  

“You didn’t name it?”

Not here.  Never not at all—

“I’m calling Seventeen,” Rex says, like the little brat snitch he is, and hangs up.  

Naturally, Cody panics immediately and intensely.  Seventeen is as close as he has to a parent.  For such a horrible mistake as leaving a living being in one’s care nameless, he will be slaughtered without mercy.  

He can only pray it will be a swift death.  

Of course just as he thinks this, his comm chimes.  The tooka blinks irritably at him as he answers it.

It arrives at its destination (his face) with much screeching as soon as he speaks.  

Seventeen takes this in blankly.  “Help,” Cody says.  

“I know what you should name it,” is all Seventeen says.  His voice is as amused as it ever is, which is to say not very.   

“What?”

“Ridaan.”

“I can’t name it Rage,” Cody huffs.  The tooka immediately tries to bite his ear off.  “Never mind, that’s perfect.”  

Seventeen snorts.  “Have fun, ad’ika,” he says, and cuts the call.  

Cody looks at Ridaan.  Ridaan mrrps.  “Oh,” Cody says.  “So now you’re calm.”

The problem with Kenobi is that he wants to know things he is not allowed to know, such as Cody’s mother tongue.  So of course he jumps at the chance to ask such questions when they’re doing datawork and Ridaan takes her chance to attempt murder.  

Except instead of going for him, she goes for Kenobi.  Cody panics, obviously, because he has grown grudgingly fond of Ridaan’s antics and he doesn’t want her taken away, and thus yells, “RAGE!  STOP!” 

Only judging by Kenobi’s face, he didn’t call her rage.  

He called her Ridaan. 

“Oh shit,” he manages.  Ridaan, tucked firmly in Cody’s arms, meeps concernedly.  

“And who is this?” Kenobi says, diverting the conversation quickly.  He probably sensed Cody’s panic in the Force. 

Bastard.  

“Her name is Rage,” Cody says.  He offers her.  Kenobi reaches.  

Ridaan meeps, and for the first time since Cody has had her she escapes him not to commit horrific acts of violence but to curl up in Kenobi’s arms, purring.  He scratches her ears.  

“She’s lovely,” Kenobi says warmly.  

Cody can’t stop staring.  “She likes you,” he murmurs.  “I can’t believe it.”

Kenobi smiles at him.  “Why, because it’s me?”

“She likes me, and she likes Rex,” Cody tells him bluntly.  “No one else.”

“I suppose that’s a good mark for my character, then?”

Cody meets his eyes and cracks a smile of his own.  “Yeah,” he says.  “Very good.”

#lee does writing #writers for palestine #star wars #tcw #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #codywan

[anonymous-dentist]

Day Six - Hybrids | Cuddling

-

Roier finds out that Cellbit is a cat hybrid literal seconds after finding out that Cellbit used to be a serial killer, because, apparently, those two things are the most important secrets in Cellbit's life.

Cellbit's cute little straw hat is off for the first time all day, and his hair sticks to his forehead- sweaty from a day of partying with everybody else at the Favela.

Roier's breath catches because right there in front of him for the very first time are two cat ears the same color as Cellbit's hair. They're ragged, torn in some places and nicked and with small chunks missing, and they twitch nervously- pressing themselves down towards Cellbit's skull- as Roier doesn't say anything.

Cellbit wrings his hat in his hands and pointedly looks anywhere but at Roier.

"It's just... hard, you know?" he quietly asks. "I'm not in prison anymore, but old habits die hard, I guess."

And, really, Roier should be more concerned about the fact that his fiancé is a literal serial killer. That is, objectively, really fucking concerning. Like, what if he relapses or something and starts murdering the shit out of everybody on the island starting with Roier himself? That's stuff he should be concerned about, right?

But, for whatever reason, all Roier can think of is the fact that, every time he and Cellbit have met up, Cellbit has had his goggles on.

"Hey," Roier softly says.

He reaches out for Cellbit's hands, freezes inches away, lets out a breath and properly takes them. The hat falls to the floor, settling on Roier's feet; the goggles attached to it bump against Roier's leg, ever-present.

Cellbit's breath catches, and his hands instinctively grip Roier's tightly. His ears perk up in surprise- absolutely adorable, what the fuck?

His voice is reverent: "Guapito..."

"Gatinho," Roier warmly replies. He smiles as Cellbit's eyes dart up to meet his; now that Roier knows to look, he notices the way Cellbit's pupils are less round than they should be and more, well... catlike. "Muy lindo..."

Cellbit flushes and tears his eyes away, ears flattening again.

"That's the problem," he says. "I'm not cute. I'm a killer."

"Sí." Roier nods seriously. "But you know what else?"

"What?"

"That's fine. You don't have to be cute. You can just be handsome. And sexy."

Cellbit cracks a small smile at that, face going even more red.

He's beautiful. Roier can't believe that he gets to marry him. His hands are rough, and he's covered in scars, and he has the sweetest smile, and he has cat ears that automatically swivel towards Roier every time he speaks.

With a quiet little 'mrrp'-ing noise, Cellbit lets his head fall forward onto Roier's shoulder. The tips of his ears graze Roier's cheek just momentarily, and they're so soft that Roier's mind goes blank outside of thoughts of Gatinho Gatinho Gatinho Gatinho.

Roier is brought back to reality by a weird little rumbling sound that he realizes is purring.

"Eu te amo," Cellbit murmurs, voice distorted by his purring.

He's just so easy with the verbal stuff, Roier doesn't know how he does it. Just thinking about telling Cellbit he loves him is enough to make Roier's heart stop and his blood boil and freeze and his face flush and his stomach fall out of his ass and his lungs explode. It shuts his brain down, but Cellbit? He's so good at it! (And he says he doesn't know how romance works, tsk tsk.)

Roier, unable to verbalize the billions and trillions of words flying around in his heart, just presses a hesitant kiss into the crown of Cellbit's head and hopes that it gets his affections across. It should, because Cellbit already knows Roier better than Roier might know himself, but-

A bashful kiss against the side of Roier's neck.

Roier swoons, just barely catching himself from melting into a gooey little puddle on the floor. He's gotta look goofy, he can feel how wide and ridiculous his smile is, but who the hell cares?

"Do you have a tail, too?" he hears himself asking, mind a million miles away. He can just picture himself and Cellbit kissing at the altar- their first ever real kiss ever- and just the thought of it makes his knees weak.

"Mhmm," Cellbit responds. He yawns against Roier's throat. "But you'll have to wait until our honeymoon for that."

Oh, God, the implications of that... Cellbit isn't into sex, and that's cool, but they'll be sharing a bed. A bed!!

The thought of finally getting to sleep with Cellbit (in the proper way, of course) makes Roier giddy enough to giggle into thin air.

"It's a date!" he happily says.

(A week later when they're finally in bed together for the first time, Roier spends a solid fifteen minutes properly admiring his husband(!!!)'s hybrid features for the first time, much to Cellbit's embarrassment.

"You're ridiculous," Cellbit whines, face hidden in his hands as Roier gently scratches him between the ears. He might sound annoyed, but he's purring, and his tail has already wrapped around both of Roier's legs, and he keeps dragging Roier's hand back every time he tries pulling away, so there.

"Maybe," Roier admits. He moves two of Cellbit's fingers away to kiss his forehead. "But you love me, anyway."

Cellbit doesn't argue, because he does.)

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose. #decided this one gets to be short and sweet #cause i've had a tummyache all day and haven't been able to write

[inoreuct]

omg hiiii i love your work🥺🫶

can we get the crew’s reaction to when zoro reveals he’s a weretiger / when they realise that zoro is a weretiger?

WAJWHAJSH THANK YOU ANON 🫶🏽 let's get into it hehehe

he definitely tells the east blue crew first. luffy before anyone else, of course; he works himself up to it so much that he gets nervous and they end up having a stress-induced back-and-forth (“WHY ARE YOU YELLING” “I’M NOT YELLING YOU’RE YELLING”) and he eventually just growls at the heavens in frustration and poofs into a tiger.

it’s barely dawn; the sky’s a watercolour of orange and pink and blue and the silence that comes after is painfully loud. he sits there with his tail-tip flicking at the deck in agitation and watches luffy’s face go from unreadable to awed to unrestrainedly joyful, his grin wide and white as ever but edged with something soft. “can i touch?” he asks, quietly for his standards, and zoro has just enough wherewithal to give him a rather shell-shocked jerk of the head before his captain’s fingers are in his ruff and luffy’s laughing like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

(he should have known that he’d had nothing to worry about. luffy had wanted him as a half-dead stranger tied up in a marine base courtyard, and they’re nakama now. his captain is not someone to judge based on appearance. he is still luffy’s first mate, tiger or not— and he knows that after this, with his captain’s approval, his acceptance, telling everyone else will come easy.)

sanji’s next. zoro strides into the galley with conviction and the cook scoffs at him about stealing more liquor before zoro says his name and he turns, stunned and off-guard and concerned all at once, just in time to see the swordsman shift forms. his mouth falls open and he stares, wide eyes flicking about like he’s trying to process, for long enough that zoro starts getting shifty; like come on, now. you either react positively or negatively, what’s the hold-up?

he chuffs impatiently when sanji steps closer, muttering you have got to be kidding me under his breath. something settles slowly in the cook’s gaze, the furrow between his brows smoothing as zoro’s whiskers twitch at the brush of his fingers. “you’re gonna clear out my damn fridge, aren’t you,” he sighs, already resigned, and zoro lets out a happy, unrepentant mrrp.

(in this form, he finds himself reaching for sanji the most. his tail wraps around the cook’s ankle and his first instinct when he wants to sleep is to seek him out, curl around him like a dragon hoarding treasure; perhaps it’s because sanji takes to the shape of his soul as easily as breathing, blatantly unafraid as ever of zoro’s roughhousing (albeit however much he gentles it on his account of his claws and fangs and sheer mass), of putting him in his place when he’s unimpressed with his bullshit. sanji snarks and snipes and sometimes runs his nails through zoro’s fur absentmindedly as if zoro couldn’t snap his neck in half or bleed him out with a single bite; but he knows the cook is aware of just how dangerous he is. the trust is intoxicating— especially from him.

he tells himself he’s drawn near just because sanji gives him prime cuts of meat to snack on and nothing more.)

nami and usopp are having breakfast together when he finds them. their sniper does a double take at the massive green tiger and sucks down a sharp breath to scream before nami slaps a hand over his mouth, lightning-quick, pressing against his shoulder to keep him in his chair. zoro’s a little insulted; his control over his instincts is damn near impeccable. he’s not just gonna chase should usopp really decide to bolt.

but he can see nami’s mind racing, a smirk revealing the tips of his canines as he noses through one of sanji’s cabinets for show— and he catalogues the moment their navigator clocks his earrings and his green fur and realises it’s too much of a coincidence. she slumps back into her seat with a disbelieving, exasperated huff, leaving usopp to give himself whiplash looking between her and zoro and muttering a rapid-fire stream of panicked words that zoro pretends not to hear.

he takes great pleasure in putting his front paws on the table and grabbing an apple from the bowl there in his fangs (usopp squeaks like a dog toy being stepped on) before he tosses it up and slips back into his human form to catch it. “good morning,” he offers casually, grin growing, and as soon as he steps out of the galley he hears usopp absolutely lose his shit. the apple is sweet and crunchy and he’s having the best day ever.

when chopper, robin, franky, brook and jinbei join, luffy always finds a way to slip in a “oh, yeah, zoro’s a tiger by the way” at some point and he thinks they hear it but don’t really process it until they see him prowling around the deck in his shifted form. chopper had jumped about twice his height into the air and sprinted below deck before a laughing sanji coaxed him out; robin had accepted it with a singular nonchalantly raised brow and then a smile; franky, brook and jinbei had pretty much just blinked in surprise and laughed it off.

zoro had thought it’d be better to prepare his crew in case he ever had to shift in an emergency; better for them to know than to freak out in the middle of whatever situation if it ever came down to it. it takes some time for them to get used to him, but it becomes the norm— and he’s grateful for it.

before he joined luffy, before he showed all of them who he was, he’d never really had the chance to be in shifted form but now? he has the luxury of strolling about as a tiger, sprawling on the deck with the sun in his fur, his tail bobbing as he walks the rails for fun. none of them bat an eye anymore; nami yells at him to stop ruining the main mast with his claws while luffy cheers at him to climb it higher. usopp and franky make him what essentially amounts to a giant scratching post. robin always has a hand to spare for a quick behind-the-ear scratch. not having to worry about being hunted is the best thing he’s felt for years.

but amongst all of his nakama, luffy and sanji are the ones who touch him like it’s second nature. the cook hooks his fingers behind zoro’s fangs to pull him close and tease him about whatever, so terrifyingly blasé about willingly putting his hands near the mouth of a predator; zoro bats at him with a giant paw and a growl once and he just laughs with all the confidence in the world that zoro would never actually hurt him. his captain has seen fit to deem zoro his personal space heater/bolster/arm rest, and he drapes himself over zoro like it’s nobody’s business; pushing his face into zoro’s fur, arms around his neck, leaning against his side when they sit on the ground and—

it’s good. zoro curls around them, his cook and his captain, on the rug in the galley that the crew’s set near the oven because they know he likes it warm. even with all of sanji’s snarky fire and luffy’s happy-go-lucky glee their hands are gentler than he’s ever known, and zoro basks in their presence with an ease and eagerness that he will likely never admit. they are the sun and stars to his moon and he feels their call like the pull of the tide.

zoro does not fight it. he is the right hand to his king, the battle mate of one of the strongest, most infuriating people he’s ever met. they call, and he answers. their heartbeats are a steady thrum in his ears, their weight a welcome, grounding burden, and he has an inkling suspicion that for their acceptance, for their affection— there isn’t much that he wouldn’t do.

#roronoa zoro #one piece #strawhat pirates #zosan #maybe a little #zolu #and perhaps even #zosanlu #zoro x sanji #black leg sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #sanji #zoro #zoro x luffy #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #this got unexpectedly sappy #ino’s ask box #weretiger zoro au

[starrylevi]

Levi is one of those “ I don’t want a pet ,” people . Until you come home all wide eyed and holding what has to be the ugliest cat he’s ever seen .

He claims he hates the thing , calls it a bastard . But some days when you are coming home if you are quiet you can hear him inside talking to it . Having whole conversations with this cat .

“ I know , I miss them too .”

“ Mreor “

“ Mm ,, we need to trim your nails soon .”

“ mrrp .”

No because you’re so right!!! He would treat this cat better than he treats himself! They would have the healthiest food, the best toys, the comfiest lounge spots!!

Here’s a short but cute little Drabble ♥️

——-

“What is this?”

“He was tearing up all of our shit so I had to get him a scratching post.”

“This is more than a post, Levi.” You say with bit of a snicker as you gesture to miniature cat castle.

Levi shrugs. “It was the only one they had in stock.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Look it up yourself then.” He challenges you.

“I bet not every pet store was sold out of a scratching post.” You say, playfully rolling your eyes.

He narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms. “You’re the one who wanted this dumb cat.”

“Hey, he’s not dumb!” You frown.

A soft meow cuts your conversation short.

“Tch.”

“What is it?”

“He’s hungry and I just fed him.” Levi bends down scoops the kitty up as if he weighs nothing before making his way to the kitchen with the feline friend.

“So you’re going to give him more food?” You ask as you follow behind him.

“He has snacks.” Levi briefly turns his head towards you as he answers.

“Hm. I didn’t get him any snacks.”

“I know.” He carefully places the kitten beside the kitchen cabinet. “I did.”

You try to hide a smirk as you see him open up a bag of treats before placing a few down on the ground. “Alright now, don’t get too greedy.” Levi mumbles as he softly strokes the back of the kitty.

“I think you like him more than I do.” You snicker as you watch him be so careful and tender with the kitten.

“Shush.”

#I love this ask so much #I’m so sorry this Drabble was trash #I promise I’ll have a better thought out post about him and pets #this is so cute and it made me happy #levi #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi drabble #levi headcanons #manda writes #manda answers

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Random ghoul Headcanons

Dewdrop and aether almost always sleep in the same bed. They’re inseparable at the best of times but at night it seems to get worse.

Mountain is the chef of the ghouls. Boy can rustle up a 5 course meal for everyone out of nothing.

Dew is actually very scared of the dark. He has a little nightlight in his room for the rare occasion he’s alone. He’d rather die then let any of the other find out. They all know anyway.

Rain goes mute from time to time. Nobody really knows why, not even rain, but sometimes he just can’t seem to find words. When he’s not mute though he’s very talkative and definitely not as a shy as people seem to think.

Mountain has read most of the books in the library. He loves reading its one of his favourite hobbies. He’s not sure when or how it started but he started reading out loud to dew at one point so much so that the other ghoul started bringing him specific books he wanted mountain to read to him.

Aether can sense emotions. It’s part of his quintessence in a way. He can also ease emotions as well which is why he’s around copia a lot. He likes to ease his anxiety.

Swiss like to throw himself down the stairs. Like a bowling ball. He says it’s faster then walking down them. Everyone hates it. Except sunshine and dew. They have a bet on how many ribs he’ll eventually break.

Cirrus and cumulus can ice skate. They go on ice skating dates all the time. They’re trying to teach sunshine so she can go with them.

Ghouls head bonk to show affection. They also rub heads together. Aggressively. If you didn’t know it was sign of affection you’d think it was was a weird standoff.

Licking is also a sign of affection. Especially on the neck where the sent glands are. It’s also the best way to spread their sent on other ghouls. Swiss especially liked to nuzzle into the others ghouls necks.

Their horns are very sensitive. They only trust other ghouls to touch them.

Rain, dew and Swiss taught all the other ghouls how to swim. All three ghouls having some kind of water element meant they could swim natural. The others…not so much. But it didn’t take long for the others to learn and now in the summer they spend hours at the abbey lake.

Dew eats coal. He’s often seen with black smudges around his mouth and hands. And he likes to sit in the fire place. The others have to keep him out of the fire places because it freaks the sibling out.

Aether snores like crazy. It drives the others insane but they learnt if you shove a Pillow under his back it’s not as bad.

Mountain sleep walks. It’s terrifying.

Sunshine talks in her sleep. It’s mostly nonsense but one time she went on a sleep rant about soup. Dew and cumulus laughed so much they woke rain up.

No surprise to anyone but Swiss can dance. Like really well.

They loop their tails around various body parts of other ghouls. Mostly arms and legs but they also tangle their tails together. They chew on the spade of their tails to self sooth.

The ghouls are banned from copias room because dew once broke in and drank the liquid from the lava lamps. Nobody knows how he didn’t get sick.

The ghouls also aren’t allowed glow sticks because Swiss ate one once ( it was more then once and more then one) He denied it of course but the way his teeth glowed for days gave him away.

wake up a sleeping ghoul they make the mrrp? Sound.

#nameless ghouls #ghost headcanons #ghoul headcanons #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #the band ghost #ghost bc

[rainbowcaleb]

FICLET FRIDAY | Home Is Where The…

Prompt: warmth | Rating: G | Pairing: Shadowidomauk | CW: none | Words: 360

“Move over.”

The words came only seconds before a leg pushes into the lack of space between all the pillows, cats, and two bodies. The cats are the first to startle, Ava jumping down to the floor to arch her back in a stretch and swish her tail as she resettles on the carpet. Olly tumbles from the precarious cradle of someone’s knee and catches himself with claws on the blanket before hopping back into the jumble.

The leg belongs to a body that flops down in between the two others. “Any blanket to spare, or are you hogging it all for yourself?”

Caleb levels Mollymauk with a bemused expression. “Perhaps with a little warning, space would have been made.” He shuffles as much as he can on the small couch, pulling his legs in to let Molly lean back into the space.

“And what’s the fun in that?” They pat Caleb’s thigh, now easily in reach, and turn to the other couchfellow. “Oh hello, bedhead. Did I wake you? I didn’t know you actually slept.”

Essek huffs out a fond noise. “Then I guess we shall give away the large bed upstairs, if it seldom needs use by three.” He reaches up to try and smooth the mussed curls of his hair, his sideways position upon the pillows having squished any style down into a pancake.

Molly catches his hand. “I’m teasing. Leave it, you look cute like this.” They twine their fingers against Essek’s own.

“Well, I was going to make room for you, but you’ve rather taken away the ability of my hand.” Essek tugs on Molly, who repositions to let Essek drape his legs across their lap.

Caleb scoops up Olly, who mrrps in confusion before settling back to sleep in the crook of Caleb’s arm. “Want a cat blanket?”

“I’ll never say no.” Molly laughs as Olly is deposited without even waking; he simply flops to his back to show stomach fluff to the sky. “This little one loves people so easily, doesn’t he.”

“Reminds me of someone.” Caleb smiles, all years of fondness in the crinkle of his eyes.

#shadowidomauk #critical role fic #mighty Nein fanfic #widomauk #shadowmauk #shadowgast #critical role #WE ARE NOT GONNA DISCUSS THIS BEING NOT ON FRIDAY SHHHH LMAO 😂😂😂😂😂 #my fic #my fic on tumblr

[kudzuoath]

Green-Eyed Regard

An unexpected visitor takes up with Temperance on the road to Baldur's Gate. She can't say she ever felt so worried about gaining the approval of a cat. Or more specifically, Gale's tressym, Tara.

–

There was a weight on her chest.

Temperance went from sleep to wakefulness between one breath and the next. Eyes still closed, she feigned dreaming and took in what she could. That pressure of course – very slight – the sound of Gale’s steady breathing, the crackle of the campfire beyond the tent they shared.

Nothing like the scent of blood disturbed the peace of the night. There were no shouts, barks, owlbear screeches.

Wary, she opened one eye.

The calico face of a cat swam out of the darkness above her. Luminous, judging eyes peered down at her from about two inches in front of her nose.

“Ah. There. I was wondering how long you were going to feign your disinterest in the one who has so graciously decided to perch upon you,” she said.

Temperance blinked. The cat was talking. She – no, she hadn’t taken a potion of animal speaking. They’d run out of those ages ago. And besides, she must have been asleep for hours before this point. The quality of light through the cracked tent flap was paler than it would have been if it were still the middle of the night.

Well.

She might as well embrace the strangeness.

“My apologies,” she croaked, voice rough with sleep.

The cat seemed to sit up straighter, lifting her face and making a little ‘mrrp’ of approval. The shift revealed more of her fluffy body – including a lovely set of feathered wings. Temperance only just managed to restrain herself.

Wings – a Tressym.

Gale’s tressym!

Or – well, either that or the man was simply bait for magical creatures.

“You must be Tara,” she said, unable to help her grin. “Gale’s friend?”

Tara lifted one paw – so like Gale’s own gestures she wondered who got it from who – and nodded. “Indeed I am! I suppose if you’re sharing a tent with Mr. Dekarios the two of you must be close? Hm?”

The Tressym leaned in close enough for her nose to touch the end of Temperance’s. Those luminous green eyes filled the world, and stared at her like they were uncertain if she were a mouse or a mephit.

While she didn’t mean to, she felt her smile go a little sappy. “You know he probably had an elaborate plan to introduce us.”

“That is not an answer to my question, young lady!” Tara batted at one of her horns and bared her needle sharp teeth.

Temperance turned her head, wincing exaggeratedly. Genuinely annoyed or not, Tara didn’t seem inclined to actually do her harm.

Beside her, she could see Gale still fast asleep. His hair was a disheveled mess, his beard was going in too many different directions to count, and his face was as relaxed as she’d ever seen it. This would be his best friend, wouldn’t it? She shifted carefully so as not to dislodge the tressym, and looked back up at her.

“I love him.” It was easy to say. He was so easy to love. Well – perhaps a bit exasperating at times – but no less the person her fractured heart went out to. “I hope that answers enough?”

Tara settled sphinx-like on Temperance’s sternum. She felt more than saw the way her tail switched back and forth. Her own tail had been known to do the same thing when she was thinking. Typically when she was thinking tactically.

“Yes,” Tara agreed – though not with Temperance. “Yes, I do believe you’ll do nicely. Mrs. Dekarios and I were both wondering when our young man might finally find someone to settle down with! We were beginning to think he never would.”

She blinked. “I – what?”

“I said –”

Temperance shook her head. “I heard you. No, I meant – well.” An awkward gesture skyward. “What about Mystra?”

Not for the first time she felt slightly lightheaded acknowledging the fact that Gale’s last relationship was with a goddess. It didn’t bother her – but it certainly made a woman want to stare off into space and contemplate what counted for normal these days.

“Pish,” said Tara. “As if one can truly settle down with a goddess. It’s not the same, you know. And dear Mrs. Dekarios can hardly expect grandchildren from that affair!”

Temperance choked. Then she went pink. And last she covered her face with one hand and shook with silent laughter. For some reason, all she could think of was Gale being Dame Aylin’s father. She was the only aasimar Temperance knew – and somehow she couldn’t imagine any other kind of personality to the child of a goddess.

A paw on her cheek, claws like little pinpricks. Not doing any damage, simply extended in a catlike reminder of their presence. “And what, pray tell, is so funny about that idea?”

“I don’t know if I can explain if you haven’t met Dame Aylin already.”

“The pale one?”

“I don’t think you know how much that doesn’t narrow things down.”

Tara sniffed. “With the wings.”

“Then yes, that’s her.”

“Well. She was being – if you’ll pardon my language – rather boisterous with that other young woman when I dropped by.”

“She’s been known to be that,” Temperance said dryly.

By now everyone in camp was well aware of how much Isobel and Aylin had missed each other. Shadowheart had finally lost all patience and cast silence on their tent two days back. Even Astarion – who only needed three hours of meditation a night – had been relieved.

Tara stepped lightly off of Temperance – allowing her to finally sit up – and padded over to Gale. Her face hovered over his as she eyed him with the most worried, critical expression Temperance had ever seen on a cat.

“Has he been alright? He’s been gone for some time, now...”

Temperance considered. He wasn’t set on dying for his goddess any longer. But something else was going on. When they’d finally surfaced in Moonrise Towers again, after fighting Myrkul’s avatar he’d breezed right past the moment that still filled her heart with ice water. Fixated instead on the black twists of metal perched upon the elder brain. On the crown.

And something about the fever bright quality of his eyes still bothered her.

Though of course, he had just been knocked silly and spent an entire day fighting. It wasn’t that odd to be a little… off kilter.

“Something has happened, hasn’t it?” The tressym asked. “You will inform me of it at once –”

“A lot has happened,” Temperance said. She moved to sit cross legged, giving up on any hope of sleeping. “I know you know about the orb.”

“Naturally.”

“Mystra sent Elmister…” what a bloody goddamn sentence that was. Who would have ever expected her to be able to speak of goddesses and heroes as casually as Wyll spoke of wine and dancing?

More than the strangeness though, there was the outrage. A flame lit itself in her heart that day after leaving the Grymforge. It had yet to diminish.

“He told Gale there was a way to earn her forgiveness. And her idea of forgiveness was blowing himself up on purpose.”

“She what?!” Tara yowled.

Temperance was glad the cat was no longer on her with how her claws shredded at the tarp below them. It was gratifying though, to see someone from Gale’s past be properly angry about it. Her anger didn’t quite apply to Elminster – but she couldn’t say she was very fond of the man given the role he’d taken on. Even if it wasn’t one he could necessarily say no to.

“Oh if I get my claws on her I’ll – I’ll –” Tara descended into hissing and spitting and made a combative swipe at the air, wings up, fur bristling.

“I’ll help,” Temperance said. Even though she knew her chances of biting a goddess were astronomically low. And more importantly – Gale wouldn’t want her to. She sighed and leaned into one of her hands. Much as she didn’t want to give Mystra any grace – she did want Tara to have all the information. “There's a cult. We were to track down its heart… and when we did, we discovered that heart was an enslaved elder brain.”

“I… I see,” Tara said, taken aback. “How on earth did he manage to get himself tangled up in all of this…”

“Well,” said Gale, startling them both. “When you’re abducted by a mind flayer ship and infected with one of their young, it's a tad difficult to avoid looking into the matter.”

“Mr. Dekarios!” Tara said, going up on her hind legs so she could put her forepaws on him. Like a very small concerned parent. Her wings flared out, batting Temperance slightly. “Why, you’ve had no idea how worried I’ve been! And Mind flayers! How long do you have? We must eject that foul passenger immediately.”

Gale smiled, eyes overbright and voice a little hoarse. “It's gratifying to hear you haven’t given up on me.”

Tara sat back primly. “I’ve known you since before you had that thing on your face, let alone what's in it. I’m hardly going to let you go now. You’ve been a worrisome but all together worthy companion to have!”

“Why you have such a problem with my beard I’ll never understand,” he said, laughing. There was a watery quality to it.

“I think he looks dashing,” Temperance said dryly. Without thinking, she reached out and smoothed his beard down. Something that made Gale look at her with such affection her face went hot.

The tressym sniffed. “Blinded by love, clearly.” And then she sighed. “I suppose I’ve dealt with worse flaws in a pet.”

“Oh you’ve your work out for you yet, Tara my dear. She’s just as curious as I am.”

“Hmm…” Once more, Temperance was being eyed by the tressym. “Judging by those arms of hers, she isn’t a wizard. I do believe I can handle it, Mr. Dekarios.”

Temperance surprised herself with a loud bark of laughter that she quickly covered with one hand. She’d been working on letting those out lately. Unfortunate that it had to happen at the crack of dawn.

“Now,” said Tara. “I expect you to introduce me?"

“Ah, of course.” Gale reached out and took Temperance’s hand. Absently running his thumb over her scarred knuckles and looking at her with an expression so soft she felt like she’d submerged herself in a hot bath. Oh they both had it bad, didn’t they? “Tara! This is my love, Temperance. Temperance, this is my dear friend, Tara.”

Tara inclined her head like a queen. “Yes. Yes I do believe I approve. Even if you also insist on having things on your face.”

“Alas, the tattoos are here to stay,” she said, unoffended. “It is lovely to meet you, Tara. Gale speaks of you often.”

The Tressym smiled in the way only felines could, tail switching back and forth again. “I cannot wait to let Mrs. Dekarios knows about the two of you!”

#bg3 #gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #tara bg3 #gale/tav #baldur's gate 3 #tara the tressym #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #my writing #bg3 spoilers

[ivebeensetonfire]

when you touch your sleeping cat and they make the activation noise

#beauty #cat #napping #you know the little mrrp

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None literally just filler lmao

A/N: YOU GUYS I AM SO SORRY IT IS TAKING ME SO LONG TO PUT STUFF OUT LIFE IS JUST... IT'S BEEN INSANE THE PAST FEW MONTHS

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool @oscarissac2099 @littlenosoul @animechick555 @capsiclesworldsblog @cloudroomblog @lov3vivian @princessakirika @fog-sama @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @badbishsblog @lillycore555 @stardream14 @kittenlover614 @patchesofwork @enheduannasposts

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Chapter 11:

Good Food And Cat Fuzz

Jake grinned at you as you shuffled about your kitchen, chittering about some interesting things you’d read about the other day on some ancient ruin that was found in Greece because of a construction site. It was difficult to summon the interest in the subject, the overwhelming love of history and ancient cultures that Steven had, but he let you talk nonetheless.

His eyes softened as you carefully sliced the pork tenderloin and drizzled the sauce over it. Even uncooked, the thing smelt heavenly. Maybe letting you volunteer him for this little dinner wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

Steven was an amazing cook, yes, but not being able to really indulge in animal products left Jake’s cooking skills a little stagnant; because Jake refrained from buying groceries that might upset him.

Steven assured him that, yes, he understands that they all have different dietary preferences, that it was no reason to “neglect himself”. But, his concerns were never really on himself. The focus was on Marc, Steven, other people… you.

His thought bubble was popped when Puck mewed and just casually hopped up into his lap with a purr.

He grinned down at the black feline and began stroking her fur, “Hey, chiquita. Cozy, I see?”

Puck purred louder in response, leaning into his touch; her little body relaxed and oh-so-casual. She was possibly one of the friendliest little cats he’d ever encountered.

He didn’t notice when you had ceased your adorable rambling, leaning with your arms on the countertop, the pork forgotten for the moment as you slowly smiled at Jake; his arms curving gently to let Puck crawl into his embrace, rubbing her cheek on his shirt, her purr so loud you could hear it from where you were standing.

He murmured a conversation with Puck for a good minute or two, Puck giving little “mrrp’s” or “muh’s” in reply, as if she was genuinely speaking with him back.

“Mhmm,” You could hear him softly mutter. “Yes, oh, yes. I know. Life is so very tough for someone who doesn’t have to pay taxes.” Puck mewed a bit louder.

“Si, si, carino.” He grinned, his bushy mustache quirking up. You had to admit, he was… handsome. Sweet. The beard he was growing suited him nicely, as well. Puck put her front paws on his chest and sniffed his chin.

“What? No, I know you don’t pay taxes, you little felon…”

Puck smashed her head into his mouth with an affectionate purr, making him laugh and tip his head to avoid getting a mouth full of cat fur. And, doing so, he realized that you were watching him.

Watching him with that beautiful, sweet smile of yours.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled as his tanned skin flushed with embarrassment and you make a shoo’ing gesture. “You two sound like you were having a riveting conversation!”

Jake looked off to the side and coughed into his hand. “Well, animals benefit from, uh, conversation. I read online that, uh… it’s good for… stimu… lation..." He struggled.

You laugh once again and turn to place the tenderloin into your oven to cook. “Oh, yes, Puck over there is quite the conversationalist.”

As if to agree with you, Puck meowed loudly, making you both chuckle.

The abashed glow on Jake’s cheeks dulls a bit as he shakes his head. “She… is.”

“She seems taken with you.” You smile, walking over to the duo and stroking behind one of Puck’s ears.

Standing so close, Jake could smell your perfume–a sweet, sugary smell that blended with the spices of your cooking. God, it was intoxicating. He wished he could pull you against him and kiss you–

“Wanna sit on the couch while dinner cooks? I’d sit with you at the table but the chairs are sooooo uncomfy.” You say, knocking his thoughts back to reality.

Jake coughs, almost concerned for a moment that maybe you might pick his train of thought out of thin air and call him out on it. He reaches up and scratches his hairy upper lip with one finger, “Oh. Sure.”

Puck mewed and squeaked when Jake cradled her in one arm and let you lead the way to your couch (as if he couldn’t see it from where he had been sitting previously).

You chuckled at how attached to Jake Puck seemed to be, and literally hopped onto your couch cushions, Puck expertly clambering out of Jake’s arms to walk along the back of the couch, staring up at him expectantly, as if to say, “Come on! Sit!”

He shook his head with a chuckle and walked around the opposite side as you popped on some random documentary about Pompeii. “Someone’s a history nerd like Steven, I see.” He teased.

You grinned at him as Puck wasted no time in claiming his lap as her special spot to snuggle, purring loudly as he began to stroke her silky fur, “Eh, what can I say? I’ve always been fascinated by ancient cultures.”

“So has Steven.” Jake murmured, feeling a pit of guilt gnaw at the lining of his stomach. He cleared his throat and looked back at you, a dark brow rising on his forehead inquisitively. “How long have you been obsessed with this stuff, Rosa?”

“Oh, geez…” You prop your head back, your throat exposed as you stare at the ceiling deep in thought. Jake swore he could see your pulse thump in your neck, and the thought made a nervous bead of cold sweat dribble down his spine, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“I think it has something to do with my old man,” You finally say. “He was always reading those kinds of books to me, ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, China… stuff like that. He was a professor who spoke at seminars and local libraries.”

Jake blinked at you, “A professor?”

“Yeah! An archaeologist.” You grin nostalgically. “It’s where he met my mom, actually. Some people couldn’t tell by meeting her, but I am pretty sure she was from somewhere in Egypt. Not Cairo or Luxor, but… somewhere. My dad liked to brag that he “brought his work home with him.””

Jake gives a short, dry laugh as he turns to look at the screen. Wow. You really were perfect for them. Right down to having ties to the very place Steven often obsessed over; the place where Khonshu first found them…

“How’d they meet, exactly?”

“Well, Dad said something along the lines of meeting at some local bar after they found some small, obscure little tomb in Saqqara. He and his buddies apparently got drunk, almost got into a fight with some locals, and my mom “swooped in” to save them by punching one of them and cursing some absolutely foul things at them.”

You giggle, "But, that might just be my dad’s way of embellishing the tale. Mom once said she met my dad doing something dumb and hurling in a trash can.”

“Ah, love at first sight.” Jake joked with a laugh, imagining the scene himself.

“Not entirely.” You point out, smiling at him, mirth in your eyes.

His eyebrows shoot up once again, “Qué?”

“My mom hated my dad at first. She was one of those “I don’t wanna be shackled to some rando my entire life” kinda people… She had just earned a degree in… well, everything a doctor normally does. She practically ran the local hospital in the town where I grew up.”

“Oh, damn… no kidding?” Jake huffed. “So, what changed?”

“She agreed to meet with my dad, one last time before he came back to the states.” You sigh, smiling bittersweetly. It was good to talk about them, but it still made your heart cinch in your chest when you remembered that you didn’t have them around to talk to anymore…

“He began rambling, about the tomb, mostly. The mummified cats, a mummified baby crocodile, and of course, some tablets and scrolls, as well as y'know, the well-preserved murals.” You giggle. “It was some kinda temple, or holy place or…”

“Or something." Jake finishes with a charming grin, making you nod with another sweet chuckle.

“Yeah. She told me, halfway through his mile-a-second rambling, that something just clicked in her brain. Something in her head told her, “No, I can’t live without this nerd.” And she went with him.”

“Heh… that’s…”

“About as storybook as how I inherited my shop?” You snark.

“Well, I mean, I didn’t wanna offend you or anything…” He mused, his furry lip quirking up in a smirk.

“Nah, I’m used to it.” You reply, waving your hand dismissively. “She traveled with him, her knowledge of the local areas and languages as well as a medical background made her a no-brainer in terms of needing an interpreter and medic at a digsite. But, after my mom found out I was coming along, they settled in my dad’s hometown and stayed there.”

“Wow, when did they find out you were making your grand entrance?” He asked curiously.

“Well…” You smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “...Let’s just say there’s a reason I had a onesie with the words “made in Egypt” on it…”

Jake gasped, trying to reign in his laughter. “No.”

“Yep. Apparently they didn’t care that the only thing separating them and the entire team was a slip of canvas, and… oh this is so gross.” You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and give a short bark of laughter. “I’m not gonna go on.”

“Oh, no, I get it.” Jake began snickering. “No child wants to imagine their parents during–ahem-- “the making of” portion of your life, so to speak.”

You curl in on yourself in laughter at his rather blunt and astute summarization of your thoughts. Puck meowed at you, standing on Jake’s thigh with the tip of her tail curved as her big green eyes blinked at you slowly.

You finally remember your feline companion’s presence, realizing now that she was probably getting jealous that you two were paying more attention to each other than her... So, you leaned over (rather close to Jake; not even realizing how he stiffened up at the gesture) and gave your little black cat a kiss on her cute little forehead, loving the little “prrbt” she made as she mashed her head into your lips.

You look up at Jake, “So… how’d you and your “separated at birth” brothers meet?”

Jake immediately coughed, tugging the collar of his shirt a bit nervously, “Well…”

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Layla sat on the edge of the building, looking down into your flat through your open window from above, kicking her feet and grinning as she held her cheeks in her palms, her elbows on her knees.

“Don’t you think it’s a little creepy to be spying on them, Layla?” Taweret asked, a chubby little brow curving in soft reprimand.

“Oh, c’mon, Taweret.” Layla said, looking up at her. “Jake is getting close to her… maybe he’ll open up, about himself or the other two, or…”

“...Or you were just being nosey.” She said, putting her hand on her hips and wagging a finger at the woman.

“Can't it be both?”

“Oh, you're just terrible!” The goddess sighed.

“Hey… she's perfect for them, Taweret… I jus’ wanna see how this starts out. And… I hope Jake will tell the boys about her. I worry about them, y'know.”

The hippo-woman sighed once again, a small frown on her muzzle, “As do I, m’love. We can only pray for the best.”

She looked around warily.

“...And hope Khonshu doesn't have something up his sleeve.”

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Chapter 12: Next week? Next month? Tune in next time on Dragonball Z!

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #a rose under the moon

[coffeeghoulie]

Could you maybe do "may i have this dance?" and "you’re my whole world, you know." With Swiss and Dew?

ooooh absolutely! It's been a hot minute since I've written Swiss/Dew, hope you enjoy!

prompts from this prompt list

Swiss hums to himself, something formless and improvised as the smell of toast fills the kitchen. It's ungodly early, or late, or however you want to think about it. None of his other packmates are awake. He had checked the packbond before slinking to the kitchen. Swiss had woken up hungry, had carefully untangled himself from his fire ghoul's sprawling limbs, making his way quietly to the kitchen, where he's now waiting for the toaster.

The tile's cold under the pads of his paws, and he shifts his weight, swaying slowly in the warm light of the fixture above the sink as he waits. Swiss grabs the jar of peanut butter and a butter knife, tail swishing lazily behind him.

The toaster pops, and he collects his prize. The fire in him is strong enough that he can just grab the hot toast straight from the toaster without flinching. Swiss keeps humming, spreading the peanut butter on it, the heat making it get all melty and soft. He throws the knife in the sink with a clatter and puts the peanut butter away, tail flicking as he takes a huge bite of his toast.

He turns and startles. Dew's leaning against the doorframe, his hair mussed and copper eyes barely open.

"Left me in a cold ass bed," He grumbles. His tail's wrapped around his leg like a kit self-soothing. Dew's wearing one of Swiss's own shirts, oversized and draped off of one shoulder.

"Oh, spitfire, didn't mean to wake you," Swiss hums. He tries desperately to lick the peanut butter from the roof of his mouth.

"You didn't," Dew says. He takes a step into the kitchen, hissing as the cold floor seems to bring him to more clarity. "You were humming something, it sounded nice. What was it?"

Swiss shrugs, setting his toast down on a plate. "Makin' it up as I went. I'm glad you liked it."

Dew trills softly. He wraps his arms around Swiss's middle, pressing his forehead to the multi-ghoul's chest like a cat seeking affection. Swiss chuckles and presses a kiss between Dew's little horns.

"You want me to keep humming, spitfire?" Swiss asks into Dew's hair.

He doesn't verbally answer, just nods into Swiss's chest.

"One caveat, sweetheart," Swiss says, flashing a grin down at the fire ghoul.

Dew mrrps in question, glancing up at the mischief in Swiss's gold eyes.

Swiss gently takes his arms and unwinds them from around his waist. He takes a step back, holding out one of his hands in invitation, arms open. "May I have this dance?" He says.

Dew scoffs, but sets his hand in Swiss's, the multi-ghoul's dwarfing his. The skin on skin is warm and Dew melts into it. Swiss pulls him in gently, setting Dew's arms on his shoulders before resting his hands on Dew's hips. He begins to hum again, making it up as he goes.

Dew's eyes flutter shut as Swiss begins to sway, guiding him along with him. Swiss bends down, hooks his chin over Dew's shoulder so they're cheek to cheek. His stubble scrapes softly against the sharp line of Dew's jaw, humming straight into the fire ghoul's ear.

Swiss curls his tail around Dew's, like if he could hollow himself out and let the fire ghoul crawl into his ribcage, it still wouldn't be close enough. Dew, for what it's worth, shares the sentiment and presses himself closer until they're pressed together from chest to knee.

They dance like that, Swiss humming softly in the ghoul kitchen, the outside world quiet and dark, peanut butter toast forgotten.

Eventually, when Swiss's improvisation tapers out, they just dance in the silence, and Swiss leans in closer until his lips brush against the shell of Dew's ear.

"Thank you, spitfire," he breathes, lips quirking up in a smile as the tip of his ear flicks. "I know you're usually not one for this."

"For you I am," Dew answers, honest and open in his exhaustion. Swiss laughs softly, joyously.

"You're my whole world, you know?" he says softly, yet still so brightly. He turns, presses a kiss to the line of Dew's cheekbone.

Dew doesn't respond except to purr, rusty and louder than Swiss's humming. He rubs his cheek against Swiss's, eyes shut. "I know," he says, and Swiss knows it's his way of saying I love you.

Swiss smiles, kisses his cheek again. They dance in the kitchen, the sun beginning to rise out past the window.

#dot's writing #anon request #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss/dew #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction

[heyiwrotesomethings]

hoi! how are you?? can you do tamayo with a big, strong sweetheart who specializes in blacksmithing? or just making swords for demon slayers? they would train everyday, but give her lots of loves and kisses? they'll take her out for dinner or just do something really sweet for her (since she deserves the whole world 🥺) they/them nouns please!

and thank you! you're amazing!!

Tungsten 

Tamayo x They/Them Reader

A/N: Do y’all ever think the masks the swordsmiths wear would do more harm than good? They stand out a lot for people who are supposed to stay lowkey. I could think of a few reasons why they would wear them in the village, but when their out delivering swords I would be worried. Anyway, that’s why I had the smith leave the village w/o their mask on if anyone wonders as they read 🤷‍♀️. Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 1,088

A lot of aspects surrounding (Y/n)’s way of life were a secret. Their village, their job, their face… all concealed. But that was just the reality of every swordsmith that had given their service to the demon slayers. However, there was an even bigger secret (Y/n) held that had the potential to jeopardize everything that they had built if any of their fellow smiths or the demon slayers found out.

“Heading out of the village again, (Y/n)? If you weren’t so diligent with your work, I’d have half the mind to scold you.” Tecchin chuckled. “Have you met a special someone in the city?”

“Truthfully, yes,” (Y/n) beamed beneath their mask, “yes, I have.”

“Lucky kid,” Tecchin teased, “Just be careful, for your sake and theirs.”

“I will. I’ll return in a few days.”

“As long as the quality of your work continues and things are done on time, you can go whenever you want. Safe travels.”

(Y/n) bowed to the elder in reverence, then made their exit. They always felt a little guilty over the identity of their sweetheart, but knowing who their lover was and what she stood for, they didn’t lose too much sleep over it.

They looked over their travel bag once more, making sure their special side project was among the belongings. Then they stowed away their mask and and left the village, the smell of sulphur fell away and the sound of metal tinkering slowly morphed into to bird songs and the swaying of leaves on the breeze. Then as night fell, they were greeted with the glow of the big city, the sound of automobiles and carriages rolling along the gravel.

Along the way, (Y/n) found a familiar fuzzy face and smiled, crouching to the ground to greet the cat who approached them with a happy, ‘mrrp!’.

“Good evening, Chachamaru. Will you be my guide tonight?”

The cat brushed against their leg, going a little ways down a quiet path before turning around to wait for the swordsmith. (Y/n) followed after Chachamaru and did not startle when the cat suddenly vanished after reaching a certain point. They continued on, following the cat through the barrier, gazing up at the lovely house that had suddenly appeared.

The front door slid open and (Y/n)’s smile grew as a woman stepped out to greet them. They wasted no time bounding up to her and lifting her into their strong arms, relishing in the surprised gasp and soft laughter that followed.

“Tamayo, love of my life, I missed you so much! Have you been well?” (Y/n) asked between several kisses.

“Yes, I’ve been just fine, thank you,” she chuckled, attempting to dodge the onslaught of affection now, “I missed you too, but (Y/n), please, show mercy.”

“Ah, is Yushirou around?” (Y/n) looked around a bit warily. They had tried to get on the other demon’s good side, but given that they were Tamayo’s partner, it was an impossible task.

“No, I gave him a few errands to keep him busy for a couple hours at least. I would just like to make it inside the house before being so… openly affectionate.” She softly replied.

“Oh?” (Y/n) gave Tamayo a mischievous look, putting a bit more pressure in their hold, “but Yushirou put up this special barrier so one can see us, isn’t that right?”

“(Y/n)…��� Tamayo warned, a pretty blush crawling over her pale cheeks.

“I’m only teasing, my love. Let’s go inside, I made something for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Tamayo looked just a bit concerned, “You have a very important job, I hope you aren’t sacrificing yourself to try to appease me. You know just having your company for these few days every month is all the gift I need.”

“You are so sweet,” (Y/n) kissed Tamayo’s forehead, “and that’s why I like to make you things, because you’re so sweet I want to give you the best I can offer. Come on, I can’t wait to show you!”

Tamayo didn’t have to worry about following (Y/n) in, (Y/n) carried her in and set her gently on the ground once they were inside Tamayo’s room, decorated with artfully crafted metal works that had been made by the smith that stood before her.

“Close your eyes.” (Y/n) asked.

Tamayo smiled warmly at the excited twinkle in their eyes, then did as she was asked. She felt familiar rough hands cup her own, slipping a cool piece of metal into her open palms before closing her hands around it. The hands pulled away and she mourned the loss for only a moment before (Y/n) whispered,

“Alright, take a look.”

Tamayo opened her eyes and slowly peeled her hands back, then quietly gasped in awe and the small, yet intricately crafted patterned tungsten ring with a pretty gem encased within. Unsurprisingly, it for her finger perfectly when she slipped it on.

“It’s beautiful, dear. I love it.” She said, with as much sincerity as she could muster. Though the tears welling up in her eyes left no need for trying to convince.

“I’m glad you think so. I made another to match!” They flashed a ring of their own that Tamayo hadn’t had a moment to process until now, noting the complimentary design of (Y/n)’s ring and the shiny Ruby gem embedded within.

“I made them so you would have my birthstone and I would have yours. So we’ll always be carrying a little piece of each other. What do you think?”

Tamayo put her hands over her mouth, unable to get anymore words out, but she did come forward to rest her head against (Y/n)’s chest, nodding appreciatively. Her heart soared when their arms wrapped around her as they always did and she melted further when they softly kissed the top of her head before resting their head atop hers.

Tamayo hadn’t dared to dream she would find peace like this ever again, but now that she had it, she would be damned if she’d let it go. She enjoyed her allotted time with (Y/n), spending every moment she could with them before they had to go back to their village. She was sad to see them go, she always was, but they would be back. In the meantime, she would continue her own part in this war and continue her research. Now with that added weight upon her ring finger, she would hold it close to her chest and look up to the moon as she counted the nights until her smith’s return.

#demon slayer oneshots #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #tamayo x reader #lady tamayo x reader #kny tamayo x reader #requests #anonymous

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: the childhood friends au:

-

Roier doesn’t remember a lot of his childhood, but he remembers enough to know that he was a bit of a little shit. He was a problem child. He probably has the outline of a shoe tattooed onto his back after all the shit he got up to as a kid.

(R-01 gets one hour of supervised outdoor time every day to keep him from getting sick. He sits beneath the big oak tree in the facility’s enclosed garden, and he lets his fingers twist in the grass beneath him.

[The grass isn’t real, but he doesn’t know this yet.]

He sticks his tongue out to catch the sunlight, all of seven years old and unsure as to what sunlight tastes like.

Abuelo stands by him complaining, but all R-01 hears is static.

And then there’s a rough hand yanking him to his feet and dragging him back into the facility. Apparently, according to Abuelo, someone has managed to sneak into the facility.)

But it’s fine, really. Roier doesn’t need to remember his past to know who he is, and he knows who he is. He’s Roier! He likes tacos and kissing men.

In his sleep, Cellbit rolls onto his side and latches a clingy arm over Roier’s waist. He snuggles close, face burying itself in Roier’s shoulder with a pleased little ‘Mrrp!’ noise. His tail brushes against Roier’s thigh just once before settling down.

Roier smiles into the night. There are dark circles under his eyes and a sick feeling in his stomach and a gnawing something in the back of his mind.

He can’t sleep. Which is kinda funny, really, considering he’s usually the one asleep clinging to his overworking husband.

(R-01 stays in his cell for days listening for the jingle of Abuelo’s keys, but all he hears is the familiar screaming of the duck in the room next door. Must be her feathers again.

With a sigh, R-01 paces to the other side of his cell. She’s loud!

That’s when he hears it: a soft sobbing from the cell next to Roier’s. Not the duck, she’s loud. This is quiet, and there isn’t any quacking.

R-01 gasps. Someone new!

“Hola?” he dares whisper, not too loud ‘cause he doesn’t want to get in trouble, but he doesn’t like crying. It’s illegal. Abuelo doesn’t like it.

The crying stops. Then something taps at the wall right next to Roier’s ear. Another tap, and another, and it’s code, right? It has to be!

R-01 isn’t very smart, Abuelo tells him this every time they do their lessons, but he’s got this! If it’ll keep his new neighbor from crying and getting in trouble, he’ll solve this… this enigma!)

Richarlyson is with Bad again, and Pepito is staying with Quackity again, and Cellbit is asleep. So it’s just Roier and his thoughts and the distinct lack thereof that he’s trying to find somewhere in the mess that is his silly goofy little brain.

“You’re thinking,” Cellbit suddenly grumbles, jolting Roier from his thoughts (and the distinct lack thereof.) His voice is thick with sleep. Adorable. “Stop thinking. That’s my job.”

“What? You? Thinking? No way.”

Roier shifts in bed until he’s on his side facing Cellbit. Cellbit moves with him, pulling him fully into his arms and melting as Roier’s fingers find their ways to the hair at the base of his ears.

“Go back to sleep, gatinho,” Roier says.

Cellbit purrs at him in mild disagreement.

“What’s wrong?” Cellbit asks. He’s only halfway awake, but at least he cares.

(R-01 slowly manages to figure it out. He uses his mandatory arts and crafts time with Abuelo practicing his alphabet with colorful finger paints that make Abuelo sneer in disgust every time R-01 uses them on his own face.

His neighbor is talking to him, and it’s a secret. R-01 is basically a spy!

Every tap is a letter, he thinks. So two taps means “B”! Easy.

So, while Abuelo is busy with the duck, R-01 sneaks to the other wall and taps out a “Hola!”

The response is immediate and a bit too fast for him to be able to get, but he hears seven taps and then one tap and that’s “G” and “A” and there’s gotta be more, right? What words start with that?

Hesitantly, R-01 taps out: “MEOW”.

The duck screams. The neighbor laughs. The guards outside start shouting and banging and shooting. Footsteps come down the hallway, and then they say, “No.”

And then it’s quiet.)

“Nothing,” Roier lies. But, well, it’s only sorta a lie, right? Nothing illegal. Marriage-illegal.

“Okay,” Cellbit simply says, and then it’s quiet.

He purrs, rusty from exhaustion.

Roier pets him idly, eyes shut tight.

“It’s just…” he slowly says, “Bagi isn’t a cat hybrid, is she?”

Cellbit’s purring stops.

(R-01 wakes up on the table this time. He screams as the bear’s scalpel cuts into the skin beneath his eye, squirming in his restraints.

“No,” the bear simply says.

It’s the mean one, the one with the knife. R-01 doesn’t like this one; it’s the one he heard outside of the cat’s room. And he hasn’t heard from the cat since.)

Roier doesn’t remember much of his childhood, but at least he remembers having a childhood. Cellbit doesn’t have that luxury. It’s kind of his whole thing at the moment, working through his assloads of trauma one tiny little baby step at a time.

All Roier knows, and all that Cellbit knows, is that Cellbit crashed onto the island with cat ears and a tail, and that Bagi is totally and entirely human.

“But maybe you just got the furry genes,” Roier suggests.

He feigns a yawn and scratches the spot between Cellbit’s ears he knows makes Cellbit turn to goo, and goo does Cellbit become.

“Guapito…” Cellbit sighs.

Roier cuts him off with a ‘Shhh.’

“In the morning,” he promises. “I promise.”

“Mmmm,” Cellbit agrees, as smart and as well-spoken as ever. “‘Kay.”

Roier smiles, more genuine, and he kisses Cellbit once before at least trying to relax. It’s fine, right?

(R-01 gets one hour of supervised outdoor time every day to keep him from getting sick.

He waits until Abuelo isn’t paying attention to stretch his hand up towards the sun.

The duck is gone. They’re still looking for her. And R-01 is still looking for the cat.

The garden is surrounded by four walls, but there’s no ceiling. Just the open air, because ducks can’t fly. No risk of escape.

But spiders can climb.

Squeezing one eye shut and sticking his tongue out in concentration, R-01 points his fingers at the top of the nearest wall like how he thinks a superhero would. Because he is a superhero now!

The web comes out as painfully as ever, but all R-01 cares about is the wind against his skin as he’s pulled out of the garden and to freedom.

Abuelo is angry and shouting down below, but who cares? R-01 is a superhero now! They made him one, and he’s got a kitty to save somewhere!)

[Cellbit’s parents used to chastise him and his sister, telling him, “Curiosity killed the cat!” But Bagi had always argued that, well, so what? They aren’t cats! They’re people!

But then the bear said the same thing as it stuck the IV in Cellbit’s arm. And Cellbit thought of the dead little girl with rabbit ears he found in the woods, and the dead little boy with the bird wings, and, at the ripe old age of eleven years old, he cried as he realized how big of a mistake he had made.]

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose. #dunno how I feel about this one tbh #I just wanted the idea down yk?

[candiid-caniine]

pov: you're scared to send an ask

kicking my feet thinking abt all the shy people following me :)

what's keeping you quiet n shy? are you scared to fumble thru being mean to a little puppydog bc its your first time? are you nervous or guilty about having kinks like mine and wish you could be brave enough to own it? are you somehow, for some reason, sure that even tho u know what i like, *you specifically* will fuck it up somehow n annoy me?

cause i do. i want fumbling first-time awkward asks and requests. i want you to know that you can do this. you can control me, no matter how new u are to this, or how much you've convinced yourself your self-esteem issues are reality <3

or do you have kinks similar to mine that you're not sure i'm into? or...are you holding back on sending an ask bc ur scared you'll like it too much? does it make you shiver, watching me debase myself and recognizing some violent and mean thrill in u when i whine, and you're not sure you can control yourself? that you'll get addicted...?

cause i want your "how about this" kinks, your "this might be too much, but..." i want ur addiction, i wanna hear about how i scare you by making you want to beat me into submission. i want ur obsession, ur most violent urges.

or are you just not sure? do u have questions about kinks i'm into, or basic parts of sex, that you think will make u look dumb/be embarrassing if you ask for clarification/advice? do u think u just don't have enough knowledge to interact in this space?

cause it's okay! i will answer anything i know how to answer! ur not stupid or cringe for not knowing about certain kinds of sex. it's good to ask questions, that's how u learn!

or are you a sub/puppy too? do u think that i only want the big mean doms/switches in my inbox, that i don't want to hear from fellow puppies gushing abt people being mean to them and barking at me, that i won't bark back? bunnies and kitties and anything else, do u think i won't want your softness, your sweetness, that i won't wanna nuzzle u and lick u and frolic the way only small creatures can?

cause i want you! i want ouppy. i want kittn. i want bunnie. i want "licks you licks you bites you licks you nuzzles you." i want blushy cuddling and the yip-yap and mrrp and squeakch.

whatever makes u think i won't love hearing from you, i want u to know it's in ur head. i'm literally ouppy. whether it's because i have bottomless love, or because i'm too stupid to see the danger, u should send that ask. <3

#t4t nsft #send asks #if u send an ask and need reassurance abt it tell me to praise u for being brave! #bc i will!!! #i may not know much but owner is v good at praises i learned it from them lol #reality check: obv be reasonable n read my limits/ask me if ur not sure #but ask me! truly really deeply i love u all #gen #exh #only barks #h/d #kink positivity

[artistsfuneral]

🐾 Topaz the Griffinslayer 🐾

Vesemir gets a cat. The cat takes one look at him and decides 'this one is mine now'.

---------- ao3 ------------

Chapter One - meeting the mouser

When the old witcher returns to his horse he is met with the strange sight of a cat leisurely lying on Daphne's dapple gray back. The first thought that comes to his mind is that the cat is damn lucky he took Daphne and not Malwina down the keep. His other mare would have trampled the poor thing without hesitation.

Then he notices the weird thing about the cat. It doesn't hiss at him. In fact it doesn't show any signs of aggression at all. In all his years on the Path and afterwards, which is to say many, many years, that has never happened before.

It's a general, well known rule that predators, no matter the kind, don't like witchers. Some domesticated ones, like dogs or birds˟, can be trained out of it, but cats had long since shown to be an incredibly effective witcher repellent. It's so known that for a while humans in bigger cities went a bit crazy with breeding the things until it turned into a plague. Most city mages ended up with the knowledge on how to safely castrate a cat and a full purse.

The cat on top of his horse was looking at him entirely too peaceful. While it had lifted its head when he entered, it didn't react further. Even now, when he enters the stall and therefore also the cat's personal space, its mood doesn't change. It blinks at him lazily out of big topaz eyes and watches him pet down Daphne.

As far as the old witcher can tell – he barely knows anything about cats – it's not a simple tavern stray. It looks too nice to be ever considered a stray. He wouldn't be surprised if it's one of the expensive ones. He may not know a lot about cats, but he knows how much some aristocrats are willing to pay for pets. The idea of having an animal around that's just there to look pretty and be friendly seems absolutely ludicrous to a witcher.

Even to him it's obvious that the cat is incredibly well cared for. If not because of its peaceful demeanor than because of the way it looks. Its fur is almost luxurious long and soft looking, though clearly made for a colder climate. It's colored a dark shade of brown with many black stripes down its sides and long, thick one that starts in its neck and goes all the way down to its tail. The eyes, big and round and watching him, are of a dark topaz coloration and if the color reminds him of his sons' eyes and makes him a bit emotional he would never dare admit that out loud.

The most prominent feature of the cat is its leather collar though. It was crafted with a lot of care and recently polished as it still has a bit of a shine to it. There's a little round metal coin hanging from it with a sparkling star engraved on it, not unlike the medallion witcher trainees wear before they receive their official wolf-head-medallion. Hanging above it is a little blue tear-drop shaped gemstone. Definitely an expensive cat that belongs to someone rich enough to put gemstones were they could easily be snatched. He almost expects his medallion to hum, indicating some form of tracking spell, but nothing.

The cat looks at his gloved hand when it comes closer to where it is lying on his horse but doesn't swat at it, doesn't hiss in warning, doesn't even turn its ears back. Instead it lets out a tiny, friendly sound, a 'mrrp' and curiously sniffs the leather of his glove.

Utterly baffled, the old witcher has to take a moment and steps out of the stall. He catches a glimpse of the stable hand, a growing boy hardly older than fourteen who's refilling a water through in the back and with a sharp whistle calls for the boy's attention.

The boy turns mid movement and looks at him wide eyed, “Ser?”

He nods his head towards Daphne's stall, “Have you seen the cat on top of my horse?”

The boy blinks at him and replies with a, “Yeser.”

“Who's cat is that?”

“'snot yours?” The boy's speech is slurred, his thick accent pulling at the words like they belong together. The kaedweni courts call it the accent of the peasant. Some times the old witcher adapts it just to annoy them.

“Ever seen a witcher with a damned cat?” He barks out, annoyed that the boy's short answers don't give him the information he wants. Not at all helping, the stable hand simply shrugs his lanky shoulders. “Never seeno witcher before,” he says.

“Then whos cat is it?” the witcher bites out, “Who else is in town?”

“None, ser. You an'the postmaster, but he's gotno cats. Make'm sneeze.”

“Any witches that have passed through recently? Some upper folk, a lord or lady perhaps?”

He shakes his head, “None, ser, 'swhy I thought the mouser's yours.”

Said mouser takes the opportunity to make itself known with a series of loud meows, strutting right towards the witcher and bumping its head against his boots, then sitting down next to him. Seeing this the stable hand shrugs again, “Looks like's yours now. 's always the mouser choosing.”

Apparently that ends the conversation for the boy, because he turns away and gets back to work, leaving a dumbfounded witcher staring down at fluffy brown cat that looks back up at him and blinks. He decides not to think about it too much, shakes his head to clear away the tangle of thoughts and turns back towards Daphne's stall.

The cat is right there in the stall with them as he saddles his draft horse. It follows him like a obedient puppy when he leads Daphne out of the stable and bumps its head against his boots when he checks his packs one more time. If it weren't for the fact that he doesn't feel a single drop of chaos on the cat he would have thought it to be some sort of creature or shape shifter. Even testing it with a piece of pure silver doesn't cause a reaction and it only yawns widely when he starts reciting chants that would have any form of devil screeching.

He feels almost relieved when he sees one of the barn cats walk around him with a wide berth and its ears plastered to its head. When he looks at it, it's eyes thin and it hisses at him. When he looks at the brown cat at his feet big topaz eyes look back at him. So it's just this cat that's weird. He can live with that.

What he can decidedly not live with is the fact that as soon as he's up in the saddle and ready to make his way back to Kaer Morhen, the cat lets out another mrrp and suddenly jumps up onto Daphne like it's done so a hundred times before. His mare doesn't react at all and so he watches a bit wide-eyed as the cat settles down between his legs and over the small bags that are tied to the front of the saddle. Then it starts purring and the only reason why he doesn't loose his shit is because he's in the middle of the town square.

He nudges his legs together and Daphne obediently trots into the familiar direction of home.

#idk man #the witcher #witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #vesemir #witcher vesemir #kaer morhen