1 - 20 of 21 Works by catteeth
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He recognized the tone in Lord Louis’s voice. Knew it, maybe, better than Lord Louis himself cared to realize. But Zorba had accompanied his Lord too long not to discern his emotions, had dedicated himself too wholly not to be able to sense his unease.
Zorba is summoned to his Lord's quarters in the late evening.
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Would you let me, Junah had asked, can I? though she had not needed, because Eiselin would have let her—
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(“I’m living my life for myself now,” Lady Junah had said, once, a little slurred, her cheeks ruddy. It was after a round of ales, and Bas had laughed, then, too, understood it surely, but Fidelio had sat in silence and watched the condensation on his glass drip downward, unsure if he would ever be able to say the same.)
Fidelio, wary and suspicious, does some reconnaissance of his own.
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But the king was not flesh. There was no ability to touch, to maim. Louis had already killed him once, a merciful death for a man who had already died in heart ages ago, and Louis did not wish, nor have need, to harm again.
Louis knew better than to reason with ghosts.
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“A bit snug, wouldn’t you say?” Junah murmured, fingers drawing lower—navel, hip.
Junah finds Hulkenberg in the runner's bath.
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cut flower by kittentooth (catteeth) for specterthief
Fandoms: Metaphor: ReFantazio (Video Game)
19 May 2025
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It was not as if Louis wanted to go back. Of course he did not. But he tended to the lilium himself as if he did—trimming their leaves, watering them.
In two parts: Louis and the royal flowers.
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“I admit, I know nothing of their hygiene habits. Did you call upon me to suggest that I ask that the boys bathe more often?”
Junah turned and smiled. Behind her, her hair blew in the wind, a field of wheat. “Not quite, love.”
A question, by sea.
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Akihiko’s got his hands full of Shinji. On Shinji, in Shinji’s coat and on Shinji’s sweater, and that’s without even realizing the look of it. It’s the sort of thing that wouldn’t have mattered before—they’ve roughhoused for years, obviously, the usual playground-schoolyard nonsense that boys do; and Akihiko even remembers biting Shinji once over something much more banal than cigarettes—so it shouldn’t matter still.
Akihiko doesn't like Shinjiro's smoking habit.
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It was one of the many things Yosuke liked about Souji, actually, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. Instead, his fingers fiddled idly with the aluminum pop tab on his—what, fourth? fifth?—can of TaP soda until it broke away entirely, and then he tossed it point-blank at Souji’s bang-covered forehead.
Souji follows Yosuke into the bathroom.
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Souji knows it’s better if they just get to it, but as always, Adachi stands idle in the doorway of Souji’s bedroom, gaze averted with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his slacks. He’s aloof, distracted, focused on anything and everything that isn’t Souji or precariously placed futon set in the middle of the floor—like the ceiling, for instance, and the walls, then a half-built garage kit that sits on the shelf to his left.
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Even after all of this, after everything you’ve put him through, all your relationship ever amounted to was a pity fuck navigated by a cognition wielding a gun. It’s not as if either of you will be getting out of this wretched place alive.
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This is it, Akira thinks. The physical, absolute evidence of Akechi’s corporeality. The thought makes him giddy, almost high.
With the way Akechi smells, it's only natural that Akira would want a taste.
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things taken and things received (what you want and what you need) by catteeth
Fandoms: Persona 5
18 Apr 2021
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Honestly, maybe Akira has been going about this all wrong. Maybe he just needs to fuck Akechi once to see what it’s like. The thought isn’t unappealing, not with how Akechi looks as they switch places, shameless in how he spreads his legs open wide to reveal himself. It isn’t like it wouldn’t feel good.
Turns out Akira and Akechi are both after the same thing.
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He’s got Akechi on his back again, hands running over his bare chest and gripping at his thighs. His lips taste like the stale coffee Akira served him ten minutes ago, back when they pretended like they weren’t going to do this.
Akira knows what's going to happen once they successfully infiltrate Sae's palace, and yet—
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It still feels wrong, though, on a visceral level, lying in Kurusu’s attic, wide awake and wedged between Kitagawa’s long legs and the back of a dingy, dust-encrusted sofa.
Goro's still awake when Yusuke has a nightmare.
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Suddenly, the ship rocks to the side.
It’s soft enough not to tumble Goro over from where he hides in the doorway but hard enough to leave him gripping at the wall. He hates, hates, hates this place—
The cognition’s eyes lock with Goro's. It stares, unblinking and blank.
While heading to the engine room in Shido's palace, Goro sees something sick.
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“This doesn’t mean anything,” Akechi says.
“I know.”
The desk bangs against the wall.
topgoroweek day 4:
interrogation room/omorashi/ hate sex -
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Sometimes, Akira wonders if he's lost a part of himself in that interrogation room that he'll never get back, if he'll spend the rest of his life wondering what Goro looked like when he shot his cognition point-blank in the face.
Akira thinks too much about the interrogation room. Goro isn't sure how to handle it.
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They say that your body sheds close to forty-thousand dead skin cells per day. By that metric, Seiji doesn’t carry much of his old self at all.
Life is different after.
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Internally groaning and cursing his luck, Yosuke covered his ears with his headphones. It’s not fair I have to listen to this, he thought, thumbing open an album on his phone and turning up the volume as high as it would go.
Yosuke can’t catch a break.