#arc arbitrary

[gottaarc]

My mind has been on historical isekai lately (because of course) and I've just been thinking about specifically those marriage ones. Like, usually it's either that the OG husband was an absolute asshole (who then is either divorced/left/redeemed) or that there was just some fundamental clashing/misunderstanding (a personality change makes him more interested/things work out because of new fl). And I get why- it comes from a place of convenience for the shenanigans of the plot. But like... what if the body being possessed was in a loving relationship originally. The ml absolutely adored them, and was devastated when something went critically wrong (an accident, sickness, etc., something that prompted the possession). How disconcerting would that be to him? Because suddenly little habits have changed. Her food preferences, her preferred fashion, her very walk. She laughs differently than before; you know because the sound is engraved in your heart, but this grates those old grooves wrongly. Your wife came back from the brink but she came back wrong. Do you continue to love the husk of what you once knew? Can you? Does it matter, so long as it's her? So long as there's the lingering echo of your original love? Anyways all that to say I don't think there's enough body horror in possession isekai, and if anyone has recs where there's conflict along these lines I'd love to know TT-TT

[crabsnpersimmons]

me: i need something to motivate me to fold the laundry...

me: you're not allowed to pick up the package that came in the mail this morning until you fold the laundry

me:

me: no

[definitelynotshouting]

Holaaa I love ur hunger AU- I was reading the master post in regards to it and I immediately got the delicious question, does Grian ever get impostor syndrome?? I'm not done reading it so I'm not entirely sure if this has been touched on, but one of my first thoughts was how people call Xisuma grians watcher name, and how he kinda rebranded himself to mask as a player - but in your AU it would be like more literal?

Let me start over my brains getting away from me jkhjvghbjkj BUT since he's an artificial watcher and he was kind of "created" via parasitic takeover, would he ever have a body horror impostor syndrome uncanny valley moment? That feeling of "this body isn't mine" even though it technically *is* his, he's been living in it, he has all Grian's memories, he wears Grian's face, relatively speaking everything about him screams that Grian is him, his identity his name his body - but ever since becoming a watcher he feels like what if he isn't Grian? What if the real Grian *died* upon pupation and whatever he is now just *thinks* he's Grian.

Kinda like Fern from adventure time! A delicious thing for my mind to rotate >:]]]]

A bit late on answering this so you've probably already seen it by now, but yes Grian has MAD imposter syndrome, and thats a theme that will be carried on throughout the entire fic :]]] if you've ever played the horror game SOMA, thats where i got the inspiration for the Watchers copying Grian's memory code into the body of a Watcher larva.

Grian experiences a lot of cognitive dissonance about what happened to him in the fic, and what it means for him as a person now-- part of his current coping mechanism is to say he ISNT the real Grian, but its not that cut and dry. I dont want to spoil things too much, but that idea is smth thats going to be explored really closely as a main theme of the fic once we get out of Arc 1

[supmaww]

I mean, all bits aside, I genuinely don’t believe Glenn was a bad person. Bad father is a little harder to defend, but in both cases, he has solely good intentions that are only brought down by his own naivety and avoidance. The way Glenn acts in court, I really doubt he’s faced any real legal trouble before, and he’s stated before that the most damage he’s ever caused was stealing a $15 dollar wine opener from a hotel room. Everything “bad” he does in the forgotten realms is in the interest of keeping Nick, himself, his friends and their kids alive, and I think it’s safe to assume that logic carries back over to his life on earth. He’s a single father who is ultimately doing his best for Nick, given his own knowledge of how to be a father in the context of his own childhood. He has no support system (pre-canon, at least) and, honest to god, he just doesn’t know any better. Free my man he doesn’t deserve any of what happened to him!!

[d8tl55c]

me: waiting for shoe(s) to drop

Personified Alan Becker YouTube Icon: oh... buddy...

[aj-thegreatest]

Follow up to my last post, but you do realize you don’t need the author’s permission to say two characters can be gay? You do know that? I want you to realize that you know that-

[lovesitcomsandgaystuffs]

anime sano is way too soft on haru i need him to kick him or something idk

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Something I've been thinking about recently- do you think the libraries at the farms had religious texts? I'm of two minds about it.

1) They seem like books that libraries would generally have anyway, and other books probably have religious references such that the kids would want to know what the reference Is. It's enrichment.

2) I could see the higher-ups wanting to reduce any potential risks (anywhere from arbitrary rule-making that affects the kids to an uprising that affects leadership), and I just have a really hard time with the idea that along with all the other books in the GF library, Ray read an entire Bible before he was 12. Like in a series full of fantastic images and feats, that's where my suspension of disbelief ends.

Back half of #2 is killing me thanks klfdjkl

I'm inclined to go with #1 though.

"The Day Emma Cried" story from the first light novel gives us the greatest insight into the scope of Grace Field library's offerings. There's multiple books on philosophy, and unlike the medical texts, there's no caveat regarding their contents. This could be due to finding a cure for Norman's bout of illness being the focus of the story so the range is immaterial in the moment.

(Chapter 17)

But between that, Alex's book, and the mythology book that Ray admitted to not fully understanding, unaltered religious texts seem reasonable. The demons are confident enough with Grace Field's geographical layout and crude (per Ray) tracking technology that any risk associated with them is negligible. The vast majority of children never reach the age where they would be perceived as capable of taking what they read and using it as a rallying cry to mount an uprising in the plants, and the small number of girls who did live past their preteen years almost entirely had the fight snuffed out of them by the harrowing conditions of headquarters.

(Chapter 23)

We also have the kids bowing their heads and giving thanks at every meal. It's not an action limited to Christianity, but with Shirai purposely choosing a European setting for the beginning of the story due to feeling it lent itself better to anachronism, it's not a huge leap to think they associate it with some understanding of that faith. Isabella could cite the text as an explanation for why they do these things or any references in books they don't understand and offer them access to it, with the expectation most children wouldn't be interested enough to extensively delve into it.

[unus-nauta-2407]

ohohoho *rubs hands together* this is gonna be good

"You cannot save me."

“That was unfair of you.” “All is fair in love and war, brother.” “Well, which one is it this time?” “I’ll let you decide.”

"Don't fall asleep again."

“Who the kark do you think I’m doing all this for?!”

“Kriff,” he hisses, “Kriff.”

"Wolffe, get your shebs here this instant."

For an onslaught of reasons, his heart screams within him.

“You’ll tell me what I want to know, clone.”

At last, he finds peace.

“I will not stand by and watch our brothers fall this way.”

“Just try and kriffing finish that sentence. You’ll lose that entire jaw for good.”

“You can take off your helmet, you know.”

“Do you really think leaving is going to solve anything?”

eesh all angsty

anyways, have fun and you're always welcome to mix and mash 'em up or tear 'em apartor whatever <3

Did you know. That I spent literally all day writing this

I think this wins the award for the longest and most involved fic I've ever written. Also probably the darkest. Also probably the most graphic (I mean it's not bad but like. I mostly write character studies you know? This is one of my first fics with an actual, uh. Plot)

The other deal is that this is HFSW but I didn't have it in me to do everything I just mentioned and also write it in the more archaic style that I write most of HFSW in, but since you're probably the only person who's gonna end up reading this (besides maybe Evie. oh and also @majorproblems77 cause Major I know you wanted to know what I was doing) I don't think it matters for now, and if I ever do publish this as an actual work I'll go in and edit it when I have more spoons

Happy New Year!

His back aches. So much.

He... doesn't remember much of the past few hours. Everything was hot and loud and painful and... red? But that's as much as he can gather. The only reason he's awake at all is because someone's calloused hands were trying to be gentle while massaging something creamy and cool into whatever's making his back scream.

"Nngh." (His voice is slow and slurred from sleep and the fact that he can barely raise his head from its pillow.)

"Oh, kriff. Sorry, vod, did I wake you?"

He doesn't open his eyes, but judging from the gravel and melancholy folded into the syllables, the voice and hands belong to his Captain. 

"'S fine. Hurts. Where'm I?"

Rex is too quiet for two seconds too long.

"Cap'n. W'happened. Wha'sup with m'back."

"Do you not... remember?"

"Not really. 'Sa blur. Red? Hot. Loud." He pauses, considers. Furrows his brow confusedly. "M'arms hurt too? 'S bruising? Where's Kix?"

"...Kix was... forbidden from coming to see you."

This only confuses him further. "Why'd'ja do that?"

"...Fives, it wasn't me."

"But'chure th' Cap'n. Who--"

The memory that floods his senses with the force of a tsunami is enough to make him gasp. His eyes slam open and, almost of its own accord, his body launches itself off the cot and to its feet, which promptly reopens several of the scabs on his back, which in turn release a gush of blood and rip a scream from his throat as his legs turn to jelly and give out beneath him. Rex catches him before he can hit the floor and eases him back onto the medical deck cot where he was laying.

Everything is crystal clear, suddenly. 

"There's a rumor on this ship that someone, somewhere, is planning a mutiny. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Legionary?"

"No, Sir." He's careful to enunciate the sir with all the thinly-veiled disdain his voice can carry. "Can't say that I do."

Krell's eyes narrow, and he bends down to come face-to-face with his least-favorite soldier. "Is that so? Because my sources also claim that 'someone' may be you."

Fives tosses an eyebrow in a half-shrug. "Oh, I'm flattered, really. But, y'know, people talk. The boys get bored. Especially on long campaigns under questionable leadership.”

The force of Krell’s slap is enough to knock him dizzy to the floor. It was stupid of him to say, he knows. Rex, or maybe Kix, gives a cry of concern.

“You’ll tell me what I want to know, Clone,” Krell growls, “and you’ll speak to me with all the respect I deserve.”

His smart mouth’s gonna get him killed one day. But he can’t resist one more shot as he stumbles to his feet and wipes the shock-tears from his eyes.

“Oh, but Sir, I am. It’s not my fault that’s none.”

He thinks Krell might just execute him then and there, and honestly? He’d die with no regrets. Krell, too, looks for a moment as though that wouldn’t be such a bad plan, but then he straightens, smoothes his snarling visage, and announces, in a clipped tone:

"Your pride is getting tiring, Trooper. Thirty lashes.'

The scowl drops from Five’s face, and he pales.

Death he could handle. He faces it every day.

But not even the Kaminoans ever turned the lash on him.

"Sir, you can't-- you can't be serious."

"As death."

"But thirty lashes, that's-- it's sadistic!"

"Forty, then. You really do need to learn to curb your backtalk."

"Wait, please, Sir, General," Rex pipes up. His hands shake. "You don't-- don't do this. Please, he'll apologize, he--"

"--Needs to understand he must respect his superiors. As do you, apparently. I am acting General of the Five Hundred First Legion, I will discipline my soldiers as I see fit, and I will take no interference from defective-" and here he gestures with a sneer to Rex's close-cropped blond curls- "little Clones, no matter what rank they may possess. Perhaps you too would benefit from a few kisses of the whip, Seventy-Five Sixty-Seven."

Shock turns to fury, and thrusting an arm out almost protectively, Fives practically throws himself between his Captain and the usurper-general. 

"Don't you dare talk to the Captain like that ever again," he spits. He doesn’t care that Rex chokes out a Fives--, he doesn’t care if this earns him a hundred more lashes. That’s his bu- his Captain.

“Ah, but I’m only following your example!” Krell smiles with all the fake cheer he’s capable of. “Though, I must say, even if it is a double standard, your loyalty to your Captain is truly admirable. So, as a reward, I’ll bump the number from forty to…” And now, his grin is real, and crazed, and dangerous:

“Oh, why not. Let’s make it fifty-five.”

Everything goes silent. The mockery hangs in the air like a noose, daring him to challenge once more, to go one more step over the line, to make any additional comment that could justify cutting his tongue right out of his mouth. But Rex’s trembling hand on his pauldron begs him silently not to speak, and the next words are not his, but Kix’s.

“Please, sir,” he pleads. There’s something thick in his voice that Fives thinks may be tears. “Please, that’s-- he’ll bleed out. He’ll die of bloodloss, and you need him alive if you want him to tell you anything.”

“You make an excellent point. Tell me, what’s the most potent medicine on the Resolute’s medical deck?”

“I-- uh, well, I have a bottle of refined Kaminoan bacta--“

“Then you’ll administer it to him after the flogging. Is it oral or topical?”

“Sir, I--“

“Answer the question.”

“It-- uh, oral, sir, but--“

“Very well, I’ll even let you give it between lashes. I think after the twentieth should be reasonable. Is it, Medic?”

Kix can’t speak, just nod his head weakly. He looks almost more terrified than Fives himself. 

“Excellent!” Krell claps all four of his giant clawed hands. “You have half an hour to prepare. I want the entire legion at the mast by then.”

“Fives? Fives, are you alright?” Rex kneels by the cot to look the younger man in the eye, exhaustion and worry in his knitted brow. 

“I… ugh. Yeah. ‘M fine. Just… remembered.”

The Captain grimaces and straightens, and wrings out a cloth into a barrel of what Fives suspects (and, quite frankly, can only hope) is a bucket of precious clean freshwater, before he starts to sponge away the fresh blood from the reopened lacerations. One of his hands moves to Fives’s thick curls to gently massage his scalp.

“You did so good, you know,” he whispers. “You took it so well. I’m… really proud of you.”

Fives just sighs and screws his eyes closed.

Whatever happens, he swears to himself he’s not going to give that demagolka the luxury of hearing him scream.

Umbara’s air is cold and bitter against the bare skin of his torso and arms, but really, he didn’t expect anything less from the shadow isle. His brother’s faces in the crowd range from shocked to terrified to almost in tears to stony, tight-lipped stoicism. He just squares his shoulders, straightens his backbone, keeps his chin up, and looks straight ahead. 

He can’t, however, resist locking eyes with Rex when he passes, and the Captain’s face is grave and grieved and hopeless… and, as he gives his Legionary the tiniest of subtle nods, maybe just a little bit proud.

He says nothing as he’s tied to the mast, he says nothing as Krell makes a speech to his assembled brethren about loyalty and obedience and how ‘good soldiers follow orders’ or some rot like that, and he says nothing as Krell leans over to growl in his ear about how much he’s going to enjoy teaching him this lesson. 

The first lash hits and, though his clenched fists spasm open and his vision goes white with agony, he doesn’t make a sound.

Rex, after managing to staunch the bleeding, has quickly gone back to smoothing bacta over Fives’s mangled back. He finishes with a final rub of the shoulders and then reaches over to the supplies he’s gathered to grab a length of clean white bandages.

“Come on, Fives, I need you to sit up for me,” he murmurs. Fives peels his eyes open with a vague garbled murmur before he finds the Captain’s strong hands so gently helping ease him into an upwards position without disturbing any of the fragile lacerations. Rex very carefully starts wrapping the bandages around Fives’s torso.

“Gah.”

The older man pauses. “Are you alright?”

“Mmmh. Yeah. I…” Fives takes a deep breath. When he speaks again, his voice is very strained and heartbreakingly young-sounding. “It aches so much, can I lean on you, please?”

“I… yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He does. It feels so much better.

“Sorry,” he mumbles from where his face is smushed into the juncture of Rex’s neck and shoulder. “I’m not makin’ it any easier’ta bandage, ‘m I?”

“It’s okay. You’re good. Don’t… don’t worry about it, kid.”

True to his word, Krell lets Kix to the mast after the first twenty strokes. Fives can barely see through the pain-blindness and the tears that stream silently down his face, but he hears a yelp of surprise and a stumbling of feet and winces at the thought that his poor brother is slipping in the pool of his blood that seeps ever outward from the foot of the post. Yet despite the near-disaster, Kix draws up next to him and gently reaches a guiding hand to carefully tip his head back before lifting something cool and glassy to his lips.

“Drink it. Please,” the medic softly whispers. It’s so bitter that Fives nearly chokes, but he manages to take a few sips of it before Kix withdraws the bottle. In the motion, he tips their foreheads together for a brief moment and murmurs, “I’m so sorry I can’t do more. You’re doing so well.” One of his thumbs gently sweeps under his brother’s drenched lower lashes to catch any more tears from rolling off his face for now. 

“Medic! Get back here, you’re wasting time!” comes the bark from across the deck, and though Kix’s entire body tenses and there’s a jumpy glint in his eye, he takes one final second to clandestinely press a kiss to Fives’s brow before scurrying off with his half-full bottle of bacta.

“There you go.”

Fives can’t pull himself off of Rex’s shoulder. His whole body feels cast of lead; if anything, he sags more heavily into the Captain now that his bandage is tied off. 

“Thanks.”

“Any time.” Rex’s hand finds its way to stroke his young trooper’s hair. “You need any help laying back down?”

“Mmmh. Can I… stay here? For a little bit?”

“Wh-- I… of course. Of course, Fives.”

The thirtieth lash is where he finally breaks.

He doesn’t know if it’s that the torment that mounts with each fresh stroke has finally become too much to bear, or if by a fluke the flail traces itself in just the right way along his spine, but the whip leaves its thirtieth kiss and finally manages to tear something ragged and wet and raw from his throat.

It’s such a little gasp of pain. 

It chokes him.

He tries to pull himself back together.

Thirty-One. He’s silent.

Thirty-Two. New, thick tears drip down his cheekbones and run their fingers down his neck, but he’s silent.

Thirty-Three. His head snaps back when the tail grazes a rib it hasn’t touched before, but he’s silent.

Thirty-Four. His hands spasm and shake and his fingers twitch in distress, but he’s silent.

Thirty-Fi— Fi— Oh, Force help him, he can’t take it anymore.

He gasps again.

He doesn’t even register that he was falling asleep until he jolts himself awake.

“Easy!” Rex exclaims, catching him by the shoulders. “Hey, kid, if you’re dropping off we should probably lay you down, yeah?”

Fives just softly groans in response.

Fifty.

He can’t check his gasps anymore; by now, they come with every stroke, and they’re only growing more and more desperate. But, true to his promise, he still hasn’t screamed. He’s held out this long and, thank the stars above and sea below, it’s almost over.

How he’s still this lucid is beyond him. It must be Kix’s high-potency bacta, because in addition to the strange coherency of his thoughts, he can also feel his flesh trying to stitch itself back together between lashes. If he’s being honest… it makes it that much more painful, but there’s no way his poor brother could have known that. He was just trying to help. Force bless him. 

Fifty-One. He lost the ability to see at all around the twenty-third lash, but it’s still jarring to watch the black spots dancing in the white fog that’s replaced his vision.

Fifty-Two. Just three more, he tells himself. It might have been mingled with his latest strangled choke. At this point he almost doesn’t care. Almost.

Fifty-Three. He can gasp and choke and fight for his every breath, but he’s not going to scream. He’s not going to scream. He promised himself. Krell is not going to hear him scream.

Fifty-Four. Krell is NOT going to hear him scream.

Fifty-Five. 

It’s too much.

He can’t tell if the sound is a swear or someone’s name or just one long shriek of agony, but it’s horrible and loud and broken and his. It arches his spine and throws back his head and splays out his fingers and he shakes, and then his voice gives out and he slumps heavily against the mast. 

He screamed.

He failed.

He hates himself. 

He thinks he hears someone say, somewhere, Cut him down. His wrists come loose and there’s warm arms gingerly easing him to the ground, careful not to jostle his flayed-open back as they guide him to rest in their owner’s lap.

There’s distant sounds of what might be an argument. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. He wants to sleep.

The arms very gently hoist him into a fireman’s carry, and he leans- as much as he can, with his weeping back- against his supporter, but it’s no use. He blacks out after three steps.

Rex, after gently maneuvering Fives into a sleeping position on the cot, facedown and back up so as to not disturb his slowly healing back, had knelt down beside the cot to hold his limp hand.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers after an indeterminate amount of time. “You didn’t deserve this.”

“‘S not… your fault.”

“I’m the Captain. This is my ship. You’re a member of my crew. I should be able to stand up to Krell. If I had a stronger backbone, this never would have happened.”

“Cap… tain. Listen t’ me. You’re a good man. You’re a good Captain. ‘S just tha’ Krell… isn’t. He hates me. ‘S not your fault.”

Rex hums noncommittally and strokes Fives’s hair with his free hand. 

“I… promise, Cap. Not’chure fau–”

“Shhh. You should sleep. I doubt Krell’s going to give you much of a recovery leave.”

“But--“

“Shhh.”

Fives sighs and begrudgingly closes his eyes. He’d love to argue with the Captain for another hour, but the fact of the matter is he’s spent. He can barely keep himself conscious. 

Still, with as much strength as he can muster, he gently squeezes Rex’s hand in his slackening grasp. He’s met, in turn, with an infinitely soft kiss to the temple, and then he slips away into sleep.

[gottaarc]

*crying in the club* this is a learning moment, I'm turning this into a learning moment

[cepheusgalaxy]

HnK highlights:

1. First arc, "Phos"

Phos is so lightheaded and funny lmao

Getting eaten 😭

"Uhhh the ocean was big and vast"

CINNABAR

Yes Ventricosus I agree they're all very pretty

Own ;) and they forgot Jade. It's okay

Sonic phase

Heyy winter their clothes are so <3 red beryl ily

MARIYA ISE IS THAT YOU (yes it is)

Antarctice is so cool wtf. Oww they got a sweet side

Aaand Mariya Ise—I mean, Antarc (god damnit, they were becoming my favorite character!) dead in two eps 😭

"Take care of winter and sensei to me" <- four dead one million injured

Phos D;

2. Second arc, "Post-winter"

EDGY PHASE EDGY PHASE EDGY PHASE

✨️TRAUMA✨️ babe

Oh my god their hair is cut to be like Antarc's....

They're so different now aren't they

And they don't even sleep D: Phos sweet The Hallucinations

(Golden whump era fr)

Doggy

Oh heyy this is where the anime ends

New character! >:O Hello Ghost!! (What the hell kinda gem is called ghost)

They want to help :) They're so cool :) oh geez Phos

NOO ah ok they're fine

Ah hello Cairngorm :O Ok I accept the replacement

Their dynamic 😭

NO PHOS ARE YOU STUPID

Great. Oh hey new hair color at least

3. Third arc, "Lapis' head"

LMAO 102 year time skip...

Oh :( Goshe and Morga

Oh! >:O Goshe and Morga!!

You're a senior now Phos oww they look up to you

And there it is our classic haircut

Uh Phos. Phos?

Ah ok guess you're alive??

NOOOOOO THE GEMS YOU FUCKHEAD MEANIES

Female Enby Manipulator era...

THEYRE ON THE FUCKING WHERE NOW???

Ok they got the Trauma but they got the Looks too ok

Whoaa Cairngorm character development!!!

I love everybody's clothes sm sorry Red Beryl

>:O gasp marriage.

"Princess" 😭

Enbywife era. Good for them fr. I miss the old Cain but I see now that wasn't you. You're so endearing. Ily

4. Fourth arc, "The division"

Wow everybody is so happy ;D

Dia is an idol!!!!

Goshe!!!!!

Amethyst!!!!!!

Cinnabar :O

Aha. Haha. Hi Phos it's been a while huh

Uh forget it guys I think Phos's lost it

ALEX ALEX'S DESIGN OMGGG i always loved u

Oh. Ouch. Oh man

Dead Sensei (TM)

And now fuck Phos I guess. :( my dear

5. Fifth arc, "10,000 years"

I HATE IT HERE

And. Everybody Lunarian

:O

Everybody was happy

Thanks to Phos

F everybody

:(

I'll miss you all

Phos D;

Oh?

They're so sweet

Songs!

;)

Goodbye Phos

F Phos

A shard? 😢 The shard?

Goodbye to you too

Goodbye everyone

Goodbye, Phos

[vaultsixtynine]

thinking evil zari thoughts

[iamthescalesofjustice]

unfortunately i am considering getting into a hobby bc i love super supportive so much i do kind of really want it in book form

[cj-writes-things]

Love over Law chapter 9

~~~

Chapter 1 • Chapter 8

There were two nights left before the full moon gathering, and even Nightpaw was starting to get caught up in the excitement.

I wonder what the Claw Stones look like up close. And what about the other clans? Do they have different customs and stuff than we do? I know each clan smells different; will the other cats look different as well? I'd assume that, for the most part, our clan and Mountainclan would have thicker fur than the others, since we live higher up and it's colder. And Gladeclan probably smells like fish. Maybe-

"Nightpaw!"

The young tom was suddenly pulled from his thoughts, his head snapping around at the sound; a gray-and-black tabby was beckoning him.

Nightpaw sighed and joined the small group forming at the edge of camp, made up of Redstar, Hickorytail, and the tabby tom who had called him: Birchwind, the Sunclan deputy... and Nightpaw's father.

"You're coming with us on border patrol, Nightpaw. We'll be checking the northeastern peak of our territory. I know you haven't gone that far out before, but I trust you'll keep up and mind your mentor if anything should happen."

Nightpaw dipped his head. "Of course, sir."

"Good. Now come along."

The four toms set out, Redstar in the lead with Birchwind at his shoulder, ever so slightly behind.

Hickorytail and Nightpaw hung back, the latter almost imperceptibly putting extra distance between himself and the deputy. "Almost" was the key word there, for his elderly mentor noticed his hesitation.

"Nightpaw? Something bothering you?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Nightpaw winced.

So much for being inconspicuous.

Sighing, he replied, "I'm fine, Hickorytail. Nothing to worry about."

The gray-brown tom gazed at him skeptically, lightly brushing the tip of his tail over his apprentice's shoulder in concern. Nightpaw flinched from the touch, though it obviously hadn't hurt him in any way.

"Okay, so I'm not super thrilled to be in this patrol. It's just… we're out here with both the leader AND the deputy of our clan, and it's a little nerve-wracking, ya know? Plus I'm pretty sure I know why Birchwind wanted me to come…"

Hickorytail arched a gray brow questioningly. "And why is that?"

Nightpaw looked up at his mentor and answered, "He wants to make me look good in front of Redstar, I assume. My father has always wanted me to be in good favor with our leader for some reason. He's probably taking me on the longest patrol of the day- even though I've only been an apprentice for a moon- because he knows that no matter how tired I get, I wouldn't dare lag behind. He wants Redstar to see my 'good behavior' and 'endurance.' Why exactly he cares, I don't know. But it's been like that since I was a kit."

Hickorytail frowned, an odd look in his faded green eyes.

"So your father- excuse me, our deputy- puts pressure on you to put on a good show for our leader."

It wasn't a question, though Nightpaw had expected it to be.

No, he said it musingly, as though thinking out loud, rather than confirming what I said... I wonder what's going on in his head.

"It seems that way, yeah."

Their conversation was cut short as the cat in question yelled over his narrow gray shoulder for them to catch up.

Nightpaw caught himself rolling his eyes and glanced nervously up at Hickorytail, who merely chuckled and picked up speed. The mentor and apprentice caught up with their leaders and carried on in a faintly tense silence.

As their patrol neared the far border, Birchwind's fur bristled along his shoulders and he let out a quiet hiss.

Redstar sniffed at the air around them, and he too changed posture, becoming suddenly very solemn.

Nightpaw stared at them both in confusion until he, too, picked up the scent. Something- no, someone unfamiliar had been in their territory.

It wasn't a clan scent, either; it told of many travels, faint traces of human places mixed in that said whoever this was had recently been through a town.

Rogues.

It wouldn't be of any great concern, if it were one scent, and if it seemed they had just unknowingly passed through on their way, but…

There were many scents tangled through the bushes, at least eight or more, it seemed, and the scents were lingering heavily about as if whoever left them had been there for a while, and recently.

It could still be nothing, but he knew his leader would proceed with utmost caution regarding this potential threat.

Not so long ago, a group of outsiders had been through. Nasty attitudes, they had, and they stole prey from Sunclan hunting grounds.

This could be bad…

Something rustled in the bushes, setting each tom's fur on end, and Birchwind leapt forward toward the sound.

The rogue scent was suddenly very strong, and Nightpaw saw a gray figure racing back to the border through the undergrowth just out of his father's reach.

What was left in the stranger's absence, though, was a clear sign of looming malevolence: a dead, bloody rat, stolen from Sunclan territory by the outsider and left as not only a confession, but a threat.

~~~

[malewifesband]

EDIT: if this post has made you think about whether or not you are autistic, im really glad! i hope you get some better understanding of yourself and are able to find community and support

however before you go and tell a therapist and seek an official diagnosis please read this thread and consider the points made therein:

autism is highly stigmatized. be fully informed about what you gain and what you lose from having an official diagnosis before seeking one.

EDIT OVER ENJOY THE POST

people do correctly identify that laios is autistic fairly often but a lot of the reasoning begins and ends with his special interest and social difficulties, but honestly it goes far deeper into the build of his character than just those two things

his pain tolerance is wildly inconsistent, unable to tolerate a drop of hot oil (or any heat) but able to shrug off both his leg being bitten off and it being reattached

hes sensory seeking in the extreme. he rubs the bat bones against his face, pets and fluffs the shapeshifter tail.

his desire to eat monsters comes from three very autistic places. 1) the rules for why monsters are not okay to eat but animals are are arbitrary to him so he cannot follow them easily: he cannot understand the 'feelings' argument others make. 2) this too is a sensory seeking behavior. he wants to experience these new things, new flavors and new textures. 3) it completes his knowledge of the monster in question to also have data on its edibility. because he cannot draw that arbitrary line around all monsters, he wants to evaluate them case-by-case and see if real patterns emerge. butchering and eating the monsters improves his knowledge of them greatly and highlights their importance in their ecosystem, as well as making him a part of that same ecosystem

he cannot emote the way others expect him to. he compartmentalizes his feelings (to an unhealthy degree) because he needs a pragmatic solution. so as long as there is a problem to solve, that matters far more than evaluating his emotions and allowing himself to experience them. while this is also a coping mechanism for ptsd, it is a trait found in many autistic people regardless of trauma, as we have trouble sorting the feelings we have and often need time to think about what we feel, so it becomes easier to simply not do it and pretend we dont need to. laios emotions certainly affect him, with or without his processing them, but others do not see what they expect to see and thus dismiss that he is feeling what they would feel

he is incredibly gifted with pattern recognition, observation, and analysis within realms he understands. to understand subjects that dont come easily to him, he must filter them through his established schema (his special interest--this is why they are so special! they help us sort the world). when he isnt sure about the social cues and details hes observed in the shapeshifter arc, he filters it through the lens he understands best: monsters. he was making correct observations about his friends all along, but he could not be confident in that the way he was about their behavior when it came to his interest (chilchucks caution, senshis passions, and marcilles carelessness)

[vinylyuri]

lowkey page is such an awesome role....like at least from jake and tavros' perspectives, i really like the concept of Hey your own character isn't going to be fully realised within the scope of the world you exist in. and so any "post-canon" works get to play on this concept however they wish (sorry tavros). like imagine getting a nametag that says "sorry but we don't have time for you right now. go to fanfic websites if you want to feel like a fully-complete person". lowkey awesome