#filled to the brim with envy that people just have this much skill damn

[faundlydreaming]

#BG3 February writing/creativity challenge!

This is a creative challenge that I joined created by @mishtress and @writ3rstears based on Baldur's Gate and our Tavs! I'll do what I can, but I don't think I can keep up with writing once per day. :) The first prompt was: What was Tav doing when they were abducted? So here's my snippet of what was happening with Fi and her animals before she got abducted by aliens lol.

The sun above was selfishly unyielding, the air smelling of the sleek, invigorated fish rushing to their feast and of the running river, never attaining rest as the water forged its path down and beyond Fianna’s hunting grounds. She’d provided the fish with bloody, diced chunks of intestine and other soft organs of rabbit in order to draw them near as she crouched on a sturdy, newly fallen trunk of an evergreen who’d met its sad fate far too early. Beneath her in the quieter region of the river she’d placed a basket made of woven, durable strips of bark that trapped her quarry with ease. Next to her on the trunk was a much larger basket nearly filled to the brim with the flopping, slippery prey she’d gathered from various other baskets along the river. All of this prep work for a hearty catch, some to be sold to neighboring towns, others to be eaten by her and her small family of animal companions.

She sighed, wiping the sweat off of her brow with her bare hands, her suede gloves secured fastly onto a belt on her hip where she carried various tools to make hunting life easier. She grunted as she pulled the underwater basket onto the trunk, smiling to herself as she placed each fish into the cage of her gains. The sound of huffing caught her attention and she looked up, seeing Ranka a ways down the river grab another fish by his maw and toss it easily into the pile he’d started in half the time it’d taken Fi to gather her own fish. The woman snorted, her crimson eyes locking onto the brown bear as he pinned another fish with his massive paw, grabbing it gently within his canines and tossing it to join the rest.

“You know, that’s cheating.” She mumbled, gaining the attention of her wolf and raven resting beneath the shade of the treeline next to her. “You’re made to catch fish. I’ll have you know, it’s pretty impressive I’ve gotten this far without having giant mitts to fling fish onto the bank. Damned bear.” 

The jealousy that laced her words was playful, but she still envied the natural abilities of animals and often wondered what direction her life would have taken had Terran been a druid rather than a ranger. In truth, she enjoyed gaining and honing the skills needed to survive in the wilderness. The freedom of movement and wandering had long felt like home after escaping the smelly, thick, crowded air of Baldur’s Gate. Fi remained crouched, lost in the memories of her sordid home when the sound of a low growl sliced through her concentration like a blade through paper.

“Sasha?” She whipped her eyes in the direction of her furred and feathered children, freezing on the log with eyes adept to the slightest movements in their forested home.

 Fi expected other people encroaching on their small, claimed territory, or even another animal who’d strayed too close for the wolf’s comfort. But instead, Sasha’s eyes were snapped skyward, and even Kilbern and Ranka’s gaze stared at the cloudless sky intent on something Fianna could neither sense nor see.

The abrupt hushed silence of the forest brought chilled gooseflesh to her exposed skin. For the forest to wash into silence so quickly was unusual and the eeriness of it all caused Fi to clench her muscles in case they needed to move.

 ‘Psst’ she hissed, her children and brother bear snapping their attention onto her as she moved her hands in silent movements, signaling them to draw near to her. They obeyed, stalking towards her with the grace only animals could obtain, as soundless as an owl’s wings in the night. Time droned on, and just as the tiefling was ready to ease her muscles, her entire livelihood changed with the simple sound of a low hum coming from the sky growing into a crescendo of a roaring cry of something organic yet unrecognizable.

Then the sky erupted as a creature, no, a ship, tore its way through reality and screamed across the sky in the distance. Like a cornered animal Fianna froze, the sight of the creature-vessel unable to process within her mind as it forced her to her spot. 

A sharp pain slashed across her cheek, knocking her out of her catatonic state as Kilbern raked at her face with a measured claw screeching for her to move. And so she did. 

The quartet dashed towards the safety of the treeline, but with an unnatural speed, the shadow of the ship slowed to an impossible state of stillness within the sky just above them. Roiling tentacles shot out of the vessel with speed that nearly cracked the air and shot out to seek its victims. She dared a glance behind her, terrified at the alien sight, but continued to run with her family into the labyrinth of trees that would hopefully be their savior.

It wasn’t enough. Trees snapped and shattered behind them as one of the tentacles crashed its way through the wilderness with the iron tight focus used to capture victims with systematic accuracy. It was focused, focused on… her?

“Run!” Her scream was nearly breathless, her mind working into exhaustion to somehow conceive what it was that was happening, why, how, and how to out maneuver it. Nothing came to mind. She was caught, much like the fish she’d been gathering only moments ago on that day.

“Fuck.” 

The tentacle shot in front of her and lurched around her in a wide, lazy circle cutting off her escape. Her mind dropped, and with animalistic, carnal instinct, she pulled out an arrow, notched it into place, and set it free as it sliced through the air and helplessly stuck into the unaffected creature as if it were nothing but a mere thorn. It was stupid. It was instinct.

The tentacle was a coil bursting free as it shot towards her and she knew the end had claimed her wild heart. She closed her eyes, instinctively bringing up her arms to shield herself from her predator as it wrapped around her and claimed her as its own. The sheer power behind it stole her breath from her lungs, enough so that every bone within her soft exterior felt as though it would shatter.

Consciousness slipped through her figurative fingertips as the blackness of terror incarnate gripped her small frame and swallowed her whole. The last sound she heard was the desperate cry of ‘mother!’ from Kilbern, as the angry song of flapping wings and a raven’s cry slipped into darkness with her.

[frangipansi]

Demonic Protector: Leviathan

Levi finally got his time for violence! Male MC this time round. I had to trendy outfits in my head and I couldn’t let either go to waste! As usual the warning of violence and gore.

~

It was, quite simply, one of the best weekends of Levi’s life. He and MC had been given permission to go to the human world and stay in a human hotel, so they could attend a comic convention. Not only had he painstakingly created three costumes for himself to wear, but MC had been equally ecstatic to have his own costumes created by him as well.

They matched their outfits for each day; Levi even won first place in an amateurs cosplay competition that MC had encouraged him to enter. He was so nervous, but with MC by his side; they walked the staged to showcase his beautifully crafted work. And people had liked his stuff. They liked it so much that he won first place! And MC; he believed Levi had the skill to win it too.

A full three days; filled to the brim with comics, anime, pop culture… and everyone, everywhere, was an otaku just like him. He fit in so easily. It just simply couldn’t get any better. But their time in the human realm was coming to an end and the two were on their way back to the hotel; to change and then come back down to go out for dinner. MC had been so encouraging, so accommodating and perfect, that Levi just wanted to treat him to something special; which meant dressing up nice and eating fancy food. He could do it for MC.

He even had to take a moment when MC was dressed and ready to hit the town; dark denim jeans and a pink shirt so soft in its tone, in certain light it could have been mistaken for white. With the sleeves rolled up to just below the elbows, tan oxfords and a leather bomber jacket slung over his shoulder; Levi was ready to melt entirely.

MC looked so perfect; Levi almost felt ashamed that he should be found standing beside him. In white trousers, dark grey turtleneck and a dark navy cocoon coat… he was nothing compare to MC. And yet, MC still closed the distance between the two; a smile on his face as he leant into him and pressed his lips to Levi’s.

He should have known better really. Nothing this good could come without a price.

The two of them walked down the side street after exiting their hotel; MC knowing the city well, took Levi’s hand into his and weaved through smaller streets and alleys to get to the main road they wanted quicker.

“What do we have here?” Levi heard just before a set of hands slammed down onto his shoulders. Yanked back and thrown to the ground without seeing what had happened to MC, he could only hope he was alright while rattling his brain on how to retaliate. After all, he was in the human realm and he knew he couldn’t just burst into demon form.

“Levi!”

When he looked up, shaking the thoughts from his mind; three assailants were quickly dominating MC; watching as one held MC’s jacket and knocked him to the ground, tossing the jacket aside as the second and third took turns slamming their boot covered feet into MC’s back and stomach.

Levi saw red; an anger surpassing any amount of envy he’s ever felt, instantly he burst into demon form and rushed the group, knocking two off their feet with his tail as he latched his claws around who he saw as the ring leader.

He sank his nails in, a satisfying snap of skin as blood trickled out of the humans neck and he wailed in pain, punching and clawing at Levi’s arm but he barely noticed as he spun around on the other two; had he not been so enraged at seeing them attack MC – his MC – he just may have been stunned to see two lesser demons standing before him.

His grip tightened around the begging human; the two demons realising who they stood before and dropped to their knees. “L-lord Leviathan…” one of them murmured.

Behind them, MC couching and gasping for breath pushed up on shaking arms and Levi saw a sting of blood pouring from MC’s mouth.

He stormed the two flinching demons, dragging the human behind him; stared them down before raising the human and slammed his other hand into his chest. And ripped.

High-pitched screams filled the air of the alley as Levi tore into the chest of the human; replaced with gurgling as Levi kept tightening his strangling hold around his neck. Within seconds, the human attacker went quiet as Levi threw him aside - chest horrifically torn open -  a handful of ragged throat still in his other hand before tossing it aside.

“God, Levi… what have you done?” MC choked before falling from his feet; watching as Levi coiled his tail around one of the demons neck and squeezed just as the other one leapt back and grabbed MC.

“I ain’t going back to Devildom… let me go, and you can have this human back,” the demon bartered as he took a step away from Levi, dragging MC with him; he didn’t seem to care as Levi continued to slowly squeeze the life out of his demon companion.

“You freed me from that human, so… maybe I can do the same?” he continued; noticing Levi’s pact mark peeking out from under MC’s rolled sleeve.

At those words; Levi’s tail squeezed so hard and suddenly that the attacker didn’t have a chance to scream, blood spurted from his eyes, nose and mouth. Levi hadn’t even let go by the time he had lunged to the other demon, coiling his claw-like fingers around his head and squeezed, MC again falling to the ground.

Levi couldn’t tell whether he could hear MC’s voice over the strained wails and crunching bones as he kept pressing until feeling a satisfying cave in; any scream cut off and blood, bone and brain burst out to the pavement and onto Levi.

He dropped both bodies, breathing heavily as he turned and looked for MC. “A-are you alright?” he asked as he hurried over to him; his demon form retracting.

Without thinking, MC scooted back from Levi as he reached out for him, coughing and spitting blood before trying to get to his feet as Levi recoiled from MC’s movements.

“Levi… Fuck… what have you done?” he looked to the lifeless bodies strewn around Levi; a heavy sickening pit forming in his stomach as he stared at the crushed skull of one of them. It was too easy to forget just how powerful and dangerous Levi could be; so easy to forget he was even a demon.

“I…” Levi fiddled with the hem of his turtle neck, cringing at the gory splatter across the material and not knowing whether he should even touch MC. It hurt so much to see him pull away; that he would rather struggle to get back up to his own feet despite being wounded, than let Levi help him.

“MC, I… I’m sorry. I got so scared… damn it… th-this is all my fault.” Levi could feel the tears well up in his eyes as MC kept his distance; as if almost regarding the demon before him. “I’m so sorry…”

He looked up when he heard shuffling; MC moving towards him before his legs gave out, Levi quick to close the distance and grab him. Relief washed over him when he felt MC’s hands wrap around his shoulders, fingers gently brushing through the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“You scared the shit outta me,” MC whispered as Levi held him tightly.

Levi had no intentions of letting him go now; terrified that MC would find the strength in himself to just run if Levi were loosen his hold. But he also knew he couldn’t keep MC here; he didn’t care about the death around him or how violent he had become… he just didn’t want MC near it anymore.

“Can you walk?” Levi asked. “Or… or s-should I uh, carry you?”

“Just help me, I… I think I can walk,” MC nodded; keeping one arm around Levi’s shoulders and felt him hold his waist firmly and began the walk back to the hotel.

Even though he hated that MC had to witness such a rage induced violence; part of him swelled with glee… he did that, protected MC against three assailants – two which happened to be demons – he almost wished it happened back in the Devildom. That way, everyone would know he wasn’t just a useless otaku and no one would even think of messing with MC. Not while he stood by his side.

[abandoned-ficlets]

Iwaizumi, the Cat Whisperer

Summary: 

Tooru slams the cat carrier down on the checkout counter followed by his cracked volleyball trophy. Ming meows loudly, annoyed, and sticks one paw out of the bars to swipe at him. The cashier, the same spiky-haired guy that helped him pick out cat food on Thursday, eyes Tooru like he’s gone insane.

“How can I help y-“ “I think my cat is defective.”

(In which Oikawa recruits Iwaizumi, a Petsmart worker, to help him with his problems.)

Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team is barely ten minutes into their evening practice when the usual whispers start.

Outside of the gym, a group of girls are huddled around in a circle, sneaking looks and cooing loudly at each other. The thudding of volleyballs hitting the floor serves as a backdrop to their excited voices.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute!” One girl squeals, her voice happy.

“What I wouldn’t give to have him come home with me,” Another girl says with a wink at her friends.

“Tell me about it! I don’t want to think what my dad would say about him though.”

“Adorable~ So adorable!”

The words are familiar to Tooru. He’s long since gotten used to his fan club’s praises - happy smiles and blushes that adorn their faces when he acknowledges them during practice. The girls have made it their priority to attend Seijoh’s volleyball practices, the most loyal of his fans sitting in the stands during every single one, cheering loudly whenever Tooru scores against a teammate in a practice game.

Tooru is used to their excitement as they watch him play, yes.

But what he’s not used to is their attention being directed at something other than him: namely, a grungy-looking stray cat that has been interrupting his volleyball practices for a straight week now. Currently, the thing is sitting outside the gym's main door, causing a commotion as the girls lavish it with attention.

The ugly little monster is purring loudly, loud enough that Tooru can hear it on the sidelines as he takes a swig from his water bottle. He huffs at the display, knowing he probably looks ridiculous but also aware that he can’t push away his thoughts of jealousy and betrayal.

A girl coos as the cat scratches at her leg, meowing loudly like it wants to be held. She giggles and picks the thing up, much to the other girls’ envy. They all crowd around her, holding out arms so they can hold him next. Over their shoulders, Tooru can see the cat staring straight at him. He narrows his eyes, trying to send a telepathic message of back off. This is my turf. The cat just blinks lazily at him, completely unconcerned with the warning.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Makki asks as he plops down next to Tooru, spreading himself out on the bench.

Tooru doesn’t respond, continuing to narrow his eyes at the rival cat who still hasn’t broken eye contact. If he didn’t know any better (and he doesn’t), he’d say the stray looks smug.

“Earth to Oikawa? Anyone there?” His friend waves a hand in front of Tooru’s face and finally Tooru looks away from the cat, eyes focusing in on Makki’s trademark smirk.

“I hate cats,” Tooru says, taking one last swig of water and making his way back to the court. He can practically feel the eye roll behind him.

But it’s true; Tooru has never really understood the appeal of cats. They’re rude, stink up the house with their litter boxes, and spend most of the day sitting like useless bricks, napping by the window.

Once, when he was about six, he had tried to pet his friend’s siamese cat. He had reached out with a tentative finger, merely wanting to scratch it behind the ear but the demon had lunged toward him, claws and teeth bared. The cat had only been able to reach for Tooru once before being pulled away, but Tooru had been left with a light pink scar on his cheek that didn’t fade until weeks later.

Since then, he’s sworn up and down that he’d never approach a cat again.

But the girls must not share that sentiment, because day-after-day, without fail, they go the the stray, bringing him food and blankets and water bottles to pour into fancy cat bowls. And day-after-day that cat keeps purring and offering love and affection along with those infuriating stares at Tooru.

The girls love that damn cat so much that’s it’s becoming a serious problem for Tooru. His fans have even started ignoring his volleyball practices to go hang out with the abomination, deciding that a cat is more important than him. More important than Oikawa Tooru. It’s impossible for him to wrap his mind around.

At his coach’s shout, Tooru gets back to practice but anyone can tell he isn’t fully present. His mind is busy, occupied by cats.

---

An hour later, as he bumps up a particularly perfect set to Kindaichi, Tooru realizes something. There is only one way to beat this cat, only one way to come out on top.

He has to adopt it. There is no other way.

Because if he doesn’t - if he leaves the stray to its own devices - the girls will begin to forget him. They’ll start skipping out on practices, stop giving him the attention he so rightly deserves for his volleyball skills. He’ll fade into obscurity, unable to land a volleyball scholarship because no one will be interested anymore, no one will care. He’ll end up with a boring office job and a wife he hates in a house that’s too small. Tooru will become inconsequential.

That’s not going to happen, not if Tooru has any say in it.

And thus, Tooru does what must be done - he sprints out of the gym the moment that their coach dismiss the team, waving off Makki and Mattsun’s curious glances. Less than ten minutes later, he’s walking into a brightly-lit Petsmart, grabbing a cart and passing through the automatic doors.

He looks around the store, not quite sure where to begin shopping for cat supplies. The place is completely foreign territory.

Scanning the brightly lit aisles, he sees colorful fish swimming around in crowded tanks and birds squawking at each other, arguing in loud voices. There is a dog section filled with food and toys.

Finally he lands in a section labeled, Cats, written in block letters on a huge sign. Next to the word hangs a picture of a striped yellow cat playing happily with a red ball of yarn.

“Okay,” Tooru hums, scanning the aisles. “Where to start?”

---

Ten minutes later, Tooru’s cart is filled to the brim. He hadn’t been sure what to get exactly, so he figured the safest bet would be to get one of everything.

He found a large litter-box, enclosed like a small cave (because he sure-as-hell is not going to put up with the stray stinking up his bedroom), a heavy carton of litter that had taken Tooru an embarrassingly long amount of time to pick up, as well as some other things. The food bowls are his favorite find: two turquoise metal dishes with white fish bones imprinted along the side.

The toys are nice too. He was surprised to see the sheer variety - he’d always assumed cats were too lazy to play or do anything but sleep. A long wooden stick with a feather pokes out from amongst all the others. There is only one thing stumping him: cat food.

Dozens of brands, each with their own specific “flavors” and “specialties” line up and down the food section. Tooru isn’t sure if he should go with the one for indoor cats, or the real-meat based one, or even the natural-organic branded one. Does it even matter which one he gets? It’s just cat food. The stray should be lucky it's getting any food at all.

But then again, he doesn’t want to make it sick.

In one arm he picks up a light blue bag. It has a sweet-looking striped gray cat on the front and is labeled “Indoor formula” so it seems like a safe bet. But then again, the organic one looks nice.

He’s about to just throw both into his cart and be done with it when a deep voice rings out on his left side.

“Do you need any help?”

Tooru jumps a little, surprised, before turning to look at the owner of the voice.

It is a worker - probably about Tooru’s age - wearing an employee vest in the most hideous blue color that Tooru has ever seen. Despite that, he’s nice-looking, with spiky black hair and a mouth turned down in a slight grimace.

“Yes actually,” Tooru says after a pause that is only a second too long. He puts on his sweetest voice, the one that Makki likes to roll his eyes at. “I need a second opinion.”

The guy grunts. Tooru takes it as an ‘okay.’

“Let’s say I’m adopting a scrawny stray. Would this” he holds up the blue bag in his right arm, “or that one,” he points towards the organic bag, “be better for it?”

The guy’s eyes flicker between the two before meeting Tooru’s gaze again.

“How old is the cat?”

Tooru shrugs, not entirely sure. He puts the indoor bag back on a random open spot on a shelf. The guy frowns but doesn’t say anything.

“Probably about this big,” Tooru holds his hands about a foot apart.

The guy nods, lips pursed thoughtfully. “You can probably just get the normal-“

“Wait!” Tooru says loudly, noticing but not caring about the annoyed expression that fall on the worker’s face at Tooru’s interruption. “I actually think it might be a few months old.”

He vaguely remembers seeing the cat hanging around before, back at the beginning of the school year. He never paid the creature any mind, but he is at least fifty percent sure about that at least.

“It sounds like your cat might actually be a kitten. You’ll want some of this food,” he says as he leans slightly in front of Tooru so that he can grab one to his right. Tooru takes an automatic step back to make room.

“Thank you,” Tooru says, genuinely, as the guy pulls back, setting the bag in Tooru’s cart. He takes a second glance at the guy. Raking his eyes over his toned form, appraising. Not bad.

"I'm Tooru by the way," Tooru says, injecting his voice with the syrupy sweet quality that draws people to him like flies. He expects the guy to react positively, maybe swoon or blush a little. That’s the normal response to Tooru’s flirting, and Tooru has come to expect it.

Instead the guy doesn’t react at all. He just begins walking toward the checkout counter. "I can check you out over here."

Tooru blinks, surprised. Odd. Tooru tries again, assuming the guy is just shy and needs extra attention.

"Oh, can you now?" He adds extra sweetness to his voice and even winks at the worker, just to make sure his point hits home.

"Yes. But if you keep hitting on me, I'll get my manager to help you instead."

Tooru blinks again, three times before the words finally sink in. Then he's blushing, mortified, and just nods and follows the guy to the checkout corner.

Wordlessly, the guy rings up his items. Five minutes later...

“One hundred and fifty dollars?” Tooru squeaks, voice unbelieving. “For cat supplies?”

The guy shrugs lazily, face bored and gaze directed behind Tooru’s head. “You bought a lot of stuff.”

Tooru swears under his breath, cursing the ugly cat, as he takes out his wallet and rifles through for his allowance - all of it.

The cat had better appreciate his great sacrifice.

---

The next day, Tooru springs the news on his fanclub just as they’re gathering to watch this evening’s volleyball practice.

"Hello girls~" he trills happily, “how are all of you doing today?”

There is a flurry of movement, the girls are taken off guard. Tooru usually doesn’t talk to them before practice, preferring to keep his focus on volleyball for as long as he can. They are happy for his presence though, their smiles make that clear.

The girls all start answering at once, and Tooru can only pick out a few of the responses.

“We’re good, Tooru!” “Thanks for asking!” “I’ve had a great day!”

Tooru smiles back at them and a few giggle.

“I’m glad you all are doing well. I’m feeling quite the same and I have some big news~ Can anyone guess what it is?”

The fanclub titters, none wanting to be the first to speak out.

“Have you,” one of the bolder girls, Asui, starts, “finally agreed to start modeling, Oikawa-san? We all know you got that offer a while back!”

Tooru laughs, shaking his head. “No that’s not it, dear Asui-chan.” The girl’s face lights up at her name and she steps back, nodding with a smile.

“Anyone else have an idea?”

“No, Oikawa-San,” a chorus rings out. “Please tell us!”

“I,” Tooru claps, pausing for dramatic effect. “I am going to adopt the stray that lives outside of the gym!”

There is a brief pause in which the girls absorb this new information, then chaos practically erupts. The gym fills with loud shrieks of joy, and Tooru catches his coach looking on, annoyed.

“That is so great, Oikawa-San!”

“You are the most generous person, Oikawa!”

“The cat will be so happy to live with you!”

Tooru smiles, his voice carrying over the crowd. “Thank you girls, I am excited too. There is one problem though, I don’t have a name for him.”

“Anyone have any suggestions?”

The girls fall over themselves, trying to shout out cute names for the cat. “How about Noraneko?” One asks. Tooru purses his lips, contemplating. It literally translates to “stray cat”. A little on the nose, but it’s not terrible. He writes it down on a paper list, planning to pick one of the names that his fanclub offers.

A few other names are tossed around but none seem right to Tooru. None stick.

---

Later, when Tooru, Makki and Mattsun are all scarfing down their lunch under a cherry blossom tree, Mattsun remembers the list. He leans over Makki to ask his question. Makki makes a sound of protest deep in his throat, but his mouth is so full of food that it can’t form words. His protesting just comes out as a grumble.

“Did you pick a name yet?” Matssun asks.

Tooru shakes his head, eyes focusing on the last rice grain in his bento box. It falls from his chopsticks. “No. Maybe Noraneko but,” he shrugs, looks up at Mattsun. “It’s so uninspired.”

Makki nudges Tooru with his elbow, cheeks still filled with food. “Ma Mrmhp ma nmeme,” he says, voice unintelligible and flecks of rice falling from his mouth.

Tooru jabs an elbow into Makki’s side. “Eww,” he whines, face twisting into a pout. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, or I’ll make you sit on the other side of Mattsun.”

Makki rolls his eyes and swallows a bit of the rice. His voice is only slightly more intelligible when he says, “why don’t you name him Minikui?”

Minikui? Tooru rolls the name around in his head a coupe times. It literally means ‘ugly,’ and Tooru couldn’t think of a better fit, himself. That cat is one ugly monstrosity. It’s perfect.

“You might just be a genius, Makki. Even if your grades are much lower than mine, there is hope for you yet.”

Tooru is so excited about naming the stray that he graces to ignore the flecks of rice Makki throws at his face.

---

Minikui and Tooru begin their relationship in less-than-ideal circumstances, and Tooru will take most of the blame for that, though the cat isn’t completely innocent either.

Tooru had gone after practice to collect the cat, and his fan club had followed close by his heels. After he had finally wrestled the thing into the carrier (it took about thirty minutes and what seemed like a hundred tries), Tooru had waved goodbye to his friends and fan club, optimism ringing bright in his veins. He was happy this had gone over so well, and though there may have been hiccups (who knew cats could hiss that loudly), he was sure that things would go back to normal. The monster would be locked in Tooru’s room, and the fan club would go back to adoring and supporting him no matter what. And the cat itself was the least of his worries. How hard could it be to take care of one small animal?

It was hard, as it turned out. Very, very hard and frustrating.

It had taken quite some convincing on Tooru’s part to convince his mother to let him keep Minikui. She was surprisingly against the idea, thought he had thought she would like it, but eventually she had caved, only after Tooru promised a million times over that he would take care of the cat all on his own. He would clean the litter box, buy food, and most importantly, pay for all medical bills without any help from his parents.

After all was said and done, she had smiled, patted the purring cat’s head - it was currently exploring Tooru’s room and trying to fit into every small space it could find - and left the two to their own devices.

Tooru had bounced on the bed excitedly the moment the door closed and whipped out his phone.

“Smile Minikui~” he trilled as he snapped a few pictures of the cat, adding them to his instagram with a soft pink filter.

In one, she is peeking out from behind his desk, her tail curled up around the leg and her collar a nice pop of blue against the otherwise neutral background. Another find her looking out the window - very artsy and thoughtful. He adds a few sparkles to that one. And in the last, she is on his bed, Tooru holding the camera near his face to take a selfie with the cat in the background. Under that picture, he titles the post: *Found a new best friend. Sorry, not sorry Makki!*

Within minutes, the likes and comments come flooding in. His fans are obviously overjoyed, and the comments are filled to the brim with hearts and cat emojis and a lot of exclamation points. Somewhere hidden amongst the flood of positive comments is Makki’s own: I hope the cat disfigures you in your sleep. But Tooru pays it no mind, spending the next fifteen minutes liking his fans thoughtful messages.

But after the high from positive attention wears off, Tooru isn’t quite sure what to do next.

He stares at the cat, who is curled up a few feet away, its eyes closed and seemingly sleeping peacefully. It doesn’t look that scary all curled up like that. With a tentative hand, he pats the cat on its head, lightly, just once.

Minikui does nothing, just continues sleeping as though Tooru hadn’t touched her at all. Emboldened by her lack of reaction, Tooru decides to push his luck a little farther. He puts his hand under the cat’s belly, lifts it up and sets it lightly down in his lap. The cat does nothing more than open one eye, checking Tooru out before going back to sleep.

Hmm, he thinks. Maybe this isn't such a bad deal. The cat doesn’t hate him, at least not as much as they though. Maybe this can work, Maybe—

In a flash, Mininkui’s eyes pop open and she chomps down on Tooru’s hand as he yelps. He doesn’t even have the time to blink, let alone snatch his hand away in time.

“Fine, leave,” Tooru holds his hands up above the cat’s head so the thing can get up and walk away. “No one is keeping you hostage.”

In response, Minikui jumps upward, hooking his claws into Tooru’s hand, pulling it down so he can bite into it once again. Tooru pushes the cat off his lap and he falls with a hard thud on the ground, complaining loudly. Tooru looks at his hand; it’s marked with tiny grooves from Minikui’s teeth, curved over his hand in a small arc. He holds the hand in front of its face, shakes it at the cat's uninterested stare.

“Look what you did! Now I’ll have to set with imperfect hands!”

In response, Minikui just eyes Tooru’s hands - looking as though he would like nothing more than to sink his teeth in one more time.

You have no idea what you’ve started, Minikui, Tooru thinks as he snatches his hand away, nursing the injured body part against his chest. This means war.

---

Meow ~ meow ~ meow. The string of cat noises wakes Tooru up like an alarm clock. He lifts his head from the pillow to stare at Minikui. The cat is on his chest, sitting on its haunches and staring intently down at Tooru.

“Hi, ugly,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “Are you hungry?"

Minikui dips his head in what Tooru supposes is a nod, meowing once more.

"Okay, okay," Tooru yawns, "Give me five more minutes and I’ll get your food.” He closes his eyes again, wanting just a few more minutes of sleep.

He feels Minikui move on his chest, walking closer to his head. The cat swipes a couple times at Tooru's hair. Claws get tangled in his bedhead.

“/Minikui/,” Tooru whines, batting at him halfheartedly with one hand. The cat meows again and bats back at him in response. “Five more minutes.”

Tooru turns on his side, bringing the blanket up to his chin and snuggling down further into the bed. Minikui jumps off him and lands with a dull thud on his wood floor. He can hear the cat rummaging around in his room but pays him no mind. Just five more minutes, he thinks somewhat deliriously.

Then, he hears Minikui’s voice from a few feet above him, to the right. “Meow,” and the sound holds the taunting edge that he’s come to fear.

Immediately, Tooru's eyes shoot open an he sits up straight in bed, looking for the reason for that dangerous meow. Sure enough, the demon is on his bookcase, one paw held up behind a volleyball trophy (the participation award he received at the end of elementary school.) Minikui looks disinterestedly at him, grooming a paw while still holding the other up behind the trophy.

“Minikui,” he warns, but it’s too late.

The trophy comes crashing to the floor, and Tooru can hear it splinter. From downstairs comes his mother’s muffled, “Are you okay, Tooru?”

“I’m fine, mom!”

But he's not fine, not at all.

He narrows his eyes at the cat. That’s it. This needs to end. Now.

---

Making a beeline towards the Petsmart checkout counter, Tooru is a man on a mission. Minikui tries every few moments to break free from his restraint, knocking his head against the bars of his carrier but Tooru ignores the cat's struggle.

He slams the cat carrier down on the checkout counter followed by his cracked volleyball trophy. Ming meows loudly, annoyed, and sticks one paw out of the bars to swipe at him. The cashier - the same spiky-haired guy that helped him pick out cat food on Thursday - eyes Tooru like he’s gone insane.

“Can I help y-“

“I think my cat is defective.”

---

Tooru picks the cat up, straining to do so. The stray has almost doubled in size since he first brought him home.

“Look at it.”

“Oi,” Iwaizumi starts, frowning at the cat. “How much are you feeding him?”

“How.. much?”

“Yeah, like a cup a day, a cup and a half? How much does the side of the bag say to give?”

Tooru picks up the cat food bag and sure enough, there is a chart on the side, outlining how much to feed according to their weight.

“You’re,” Tooru pauses, eyes the chart. “You’re not just supposed to feed it whenever it meows?”

Iwaizumi groans and places a finger at his temple, like he’s warding off an impending headache. “We have a lot of work to do, don’t we?”

Tooru shrugs. “Probably,” he says, setting the fat cat down onto the wood paneling.

The cat meows in protest and swats at Tooru’s leg like he’s done something wrong before disappearing under the bed. Tooru looks to Iwaizumi, gesturing toward the cat and back at himself, eyes clearly saying, ‘do you see what I have to deal with here?

Iwaizumi ignores him and takes a few steps forward until he’s in front of the bed. Slowly, he gets down on his knees and lowers his head so that he can see into the shadows.

Tooru probably should warn him about Minikui’s tendency to scratch at anyone’s face if they get too close, but Iwaizumi has been a bit awful to him. Maybe it’s best for him to learn the hard way: through experience, aka getting swiped at by feral claws.

“Minikui,” Iwaizumi calls out in a low voice.

As Iwaizumi busies himself trying to get the cat out from under the bed, Tooru bounces on top it, rolling his eyes. Turning onto his stomach, he lays half off the bed, dangling only inches away from Iwaizumi’s annoyed expression. “It won’t come out, it doesn’t matter how much you call for it. Believe me, I’d know.”

Iwaizumi lifts his head to glare at Tooru but the intimidating effect that he is going for is somewhat ruined by the way his hair is all in his eyes.

“Maybe if you’d talk to him like a living thing, you prick, and not constantly call him ‘it’, Minikui would listen to you,” Iwaizumi pops his head back under the bed so that Tooru’s view is blocked. The man starts making weird clucking noises and calling out Minikui’s name in that same low voice.

The words bubble out of Tooru’s chest as his lips curl up in amusement. “Are you a chicken, Iwa-chan? What is that noise even supposed to do?”

Tooru thinks he hears a growl from under the bed but it’s impossible to know if it comes from Iwaizumi or the cat.

Eventually, Iwaizumi reemerges with the cat in his arms. The monster is purring loudly and cuddling into Iwaizumi’s toned chest like it’s the most comfortable place in the world. Tooru tries not to feel disappointed that there’s not a single scratch marring up Iwaizumi’s handsome face.

“How’d you do that?” Tooru asks accusingly.

Iwaizumi smiles down at the cat. “You just have to be patient,” he scratches behind Minikui’s ears and the purring seems to get even louder. “Cats don’t like being told what to do. You can’t force anything with them.”

“Hmm,” Tooru hums as he watches Iwaizumi sit down beside him on the bed, still scratching behind the cat’s ears. The two look so content, and the way that the sun is shining through Tooru’s bedroom window frames the scene like it’s some sort of painting. He blames the weird flutters in his chest at the strangeness of it all.

“Stop hogging the cat, Iwa-chan. Let me try.”

With a nod, Iwaizumi holds out his arms slowly towards Tooru. The cat stays purring, eyes still closed as it is undisturbed by the movement. But the second Tooru lays a hand on top of its fur, Minikui’s eyes pop open and the cat is jumping out of Iwaizumi’s arms and meowing angrily. ‘Don’t you dare touch me,’ the cat’s eyes seem to say and its tail is puffed up angrily like it’s expecting a fight.

“Right,” Iwaizumi says after a brief pause in which both boys just stare down at the angry cat. It isn’t hissing, but the look in its eyes says that one wrong move and there will be nothing but that ugly sound. “I guess we’ll work on the trust issues first.”

---

“No, you’re petting him all wrong. Do it like this,” Iwaizumi demonstrates. He strokes his hand down the cat’s back, and Minikui purrs happily. But when Tooru tries the same thing, all he gets is an angry lunge towards his hand. Luckily, the claws don’t draw blood.

“No, idiot,” Iwaizumi sighs and shakes his head. “Still wrong.”

Tooru can’t help the way he’s growing frustrated. It’s been almost an hour and there has been little to no progress; the cat still hates Tooru and he hates the thing right back.

“Well then, Iwa-chan,“ Tooru says through clenched teeth. “Why don’t you actually tell me what I’m doing wrong instead of parroting the same word over and over again.”

Iwaizumi ignores his tone and takes Tooru hand with a roll of his eyes, placing it gently on Minikui’s soft fur. “Here,” he says, “I’ll show you.”

Tooru’s eyes widen at the skin contact and the strange feeling of Iwaizumi’s rough skin against his own is enough to melt the agitation away.

With careful movements, Iwaizumi guides Tooru’s hands so that he is petting the cat. At first, Minikui stiffens up and growls threateningly but as Tooru continues petting her, she relaxes ever so slightly.

“There,” Iwaizumi says. “Don’t rub her so roughly and you’re fine.” Then he takes his hand away and by some miracle, the cat stays relaxed. After a minute, he even starts purring. It’s surprisingly adorable.

The three sit in silence until Minikui curls in Tooru’s lap - actually, willingly gets into his lap- and falls asleep. Once that happens, Iwaizumi stands up, brushing off some of the cat hair that had settled on his jeans.

“You two look comfortable. I’ll head out.”

“Wait!” Tooru says loudly and Minikui pops an eye open, growling at him before falling back asleep. “Wait,” he says again in a hushed voice. “Can I get your help again?”

Iwaizumi pauses halfway through slipping on his coat. “I guess,” he says but he doesn’t seem very committed.

“I can bring you something in return. What would you want?”

“Money,” Iwaizumi says rather bluntly, but his face cracks into a small smile at whatever expression Tooru makes at that. The expression disappears as soon as it comes. “It’s fine, you don’t need to pay me.”

Tooru makes a pained face. “Yes I do or I’ll feel guilty.” He taps at his cheek in thought. “How about food or something.”

“Seriously, it’s fine.”

“You’re being purposefully difficult.”

Iwaizumi shrugs, completely unconcerned. “That’s me,” he taps at his phone for a second and then looks back up to Tooru to wave goodbye. “Come by Petsmart next time you need help. I work Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Then Iwaizumi walks out and Tooru is left with an odd sense of loneliness.

---

The two end up spending much more time than Tooru had thought Iwaizumi would tolerate.

Every day Iwaizumi works, Tooru makes it a priority to keep him company, even on the days where Iwaizumi can’t help him with Minikui. He meets the manager of the Petsmart, an older woman who takes a liking to Tooru immediately. She lets him hang around whenever and even baked him cookies once for his ‘wonderful company’. “Crappy, ass-kissing personality,” Iwaizumi had taken to mumbling under his breath, but Tooru pays it no mind.

Tooru learns that Iwaizumi has endless patience for animals but next to nothing when it comes to Tooru. He sees it when Minikui hisses at Iwaizumi and the boy does nothing but smile patiently and back off to give the cat some space. Or that one time that Tooru was a couple minutes early to Petstmart and he saw Iwaizumi in his natural habitat - on one knee next to a happy dog, laughing as it smeared its nasty drool all over his face.

But the moment Tooru says something a little too flirty or makes an innocent joke at Iwa-chan’s expense, the boy is all anger issues.

“Shut up, Assikawa!” Or, “do you want me to whip this volleyball at your face, Trashykawa?” Or that one special time that Tooru had called him attractive and Iwaizumi’s face changed colors to match the red of a traffic light and he’d pushed a giggling Tooru off his own couch.

Tooru thinks that Iwaizumi is a lot like an animal himself - namely, a hedgehog: prickly on the outside but ultimately harmless.

To be truthful, he doesn’t know much about Iwaizumi, but he wants to know more. That feeling is alien to Tooru and it surprises him. Because, sure, Iwaizumi is hot, but Tooru finds himself wanting to see past that handsome face and learn what’s underneath.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” he asks one day as he sits on a stack of huge dogs food bags, ones that Iwaizumi needs to stack on the shelves. Tooru may or may not have spent the last fifteen minutes ogling Iwaizumi’s arms as he lifts each one on a shoulder. Who can blame him though, those arms are gorgeous.

“Mhmmpf,” Iwaizumi grunts. It’s his primitive way of saying ‘yes.’ Sort of like a caveman or a gorilla.

“Do you have any pets?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything for a few moments and Tooru is about to retract when he finally answers. “I had a dog but she passed a few months back.”

“Oh,” Tooru blinks. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Iwaizumi shrugs off Tooru’s apology. He moves to lift another bag. “She died this summer but it feels like ages ago now.”

“Hmm,” Tooru hums, staring at Iwaizumi as he heaves the bag over his shoulder. The other boy doesn’t /seem/ like he was affected by Tooru’s question, but there is this small crinkle between his brows and he hasn’t looked Tooru in the eyes yet.

“What was her name?”

“Molly.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Tooru comments.

“Yes. My younger sister named her.”

“What kind of dog was she?”

“Golden retriever.”

“What-“ Tooru pauses, worries his lip between his teeth. He doesn’t know if it’s okay to ask but the words come out anyway. “What happened to her?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t pause in his movements. He tosses the bag onto the shelf. The metal shelves vibrate under the additional weight, and then still. Iwaizumi’s back is turned when he answers.

“Hit by a car,” he says matter-of-factly. “It sucks but that’s just what happens sometimes.”

If Tooru didn’t know any better, he’d think that Iwaizumi was unaffected. But because he has been watching the other boy so closely these last few weeks, he can spot the difference from his normal demeanor. Iwaizumi’s shoulders are just the slightest bit higher, muscles pulled taught with tension. His head is slightly down turned, his expression is likely taut, though Tooru can only guess that much because Iwaizumi still has not turned to face him. He’s /sad/, Tooru realizes. Immediately, a rush of guilt washes over him. He shouldn’t have asked the other boy so many questions.

“I’m sorry,” Tooru says, his words soft and gentle. They float between the two, and Tooru hopes that Iwaizumi takes them instead of brushing them off.

For a long moment, Iwaizumi’s shoulders inch minutely higher. The tension builds, and Tooru hopes fervently that he hasn’t made Iwaizumi so upset that he will cry. The seconds pass. Above them, the speakers is playing some sort of happy pop song. Tooru wishes a few things - that the stupid music would stop playing first of all, but he mostly just wishes Iwaizumi would turn around so Tooru would see his face.

Then, with a loud sigh, all the tension rushes out Iwaizumi’s body. His shoulders lower and he turns around to meet Tooru’s eyes. Though Tooru thought he expected it, he is still a bit surprised to see the sadness there.

“Move over,” Iwaizumi commands as he moves to sit next to Tooru on the bags of dog food. Tooru complies readily, scooting over a few inches. The plastic crinkles underneath them, the sound emphasizing their movements.

The new position is close, but not uncomfortably so. Tooru can feel the heat of Iwaizumi’s body, only a few inches away, and he feels a strong urge to move his leg out just enough that he can feel that warmth up close.

“Do you want to see a picture of her?” Iwaizumi asks, pulling out his phone from his back pocket.

Tooru nods. He waits patiently for Iwaizumi to search through his photos until he finds a suitable one of Molly.

He catches brief glimpses of Iwaizumi’s life through the scrolling photos. He sees one of Iwaizumi with his sister, their faces close and happy - a setting sun behind them. There is one of Iwaizumi’s...