#he just blankly stares like a cat attempting to form a thought

[brevmoment]

crashman would try to blow things up with his mind

whether or not he succeeds is up to you

[mubabee]

Yandere Arata’s first meeting with Y/N?

Ty for requesting for an OC! Also no need to put yandere, all my OCs are yanderes 😼

Whenever I make a OCs x reader book, I always like to write Arata and Y/N meeting like this.(Mikio and kuroko are in this so basically a reverse harem. Straightforward writing.)

(I think I used the word ‘it’ too much)

WARNING — GORE, BUT IT IS NOT DETAILED

—When you first encountered Arata, it was actually in his cat form. He was just in an alleyway, staring blankly with his golden eyes. It had given you a little fright at first because it was so dark.

—Once you realized it was only a cat, you calmed down. Despite the lack of light in the alleyway, you could see the peculiar color of his fur — a deep blue you don’t recall ever seeing any breed of cats with.

—You tried to approach him, but he scurried off without a sound. It was quite impressive how he jumped from balcony to balcony with ease. He was already at the rooftop in mere seconds.

—So, you made it your mission to catch this swift cat. Mikio and Kuroko didn’t quite like the idea but in the end, they opted to simply make sure the creature didn’t hurt you. But really, they could catch the animal with ease.

—It was tedious but proved to be easier than you thought it would be.

—The cat would be there everyday, silently sitting with its blank eyes. You’d bring food that it would never eat, toys that it would never play with, milk that it would never drink —anything to lure it out. It would never come towards you, but you noticed that with each attempt, the distance it would let you pass before running off shortened.

—Until one day, it let you calmly pick it up in your arms with no complaints.

—Now let’s just say you lived separately from Mikio and Kuroko for now and had a female roommate.

—So you bring the cat home and she suggests the name ‘Arata’.

—So now that was officially his name!

—Mikio made sure to clip its nails and ensure it had no diseases or complications. (Also found out it was a boy😼)

—On the first day, it was normal — other than the fact Arata would constantly cling to you. Even as you were leaving, he would try and follow you through the door. Your roommate would complain that he had no interest to anything outside of you, even when she tried to entertain him with cat toys.

—On the second day, you left. Your roommate then brought Arata into the bathroom so she could shower and ensure he wouldn’t cause any trouble at the same time.

—But to her confusion, the door was open as soon as she finished bathing. It made her a slight bit wary, but it must’ve been because Arata learned how to open doors already. (trust me they can learn how to do that sht, my old cat did)

—She got dressed and went to the kitchen only to see a grown man in the living room, his back turned to her. The worst part is that he was completely naked.

—He didn’t seem to notice her, so she reached for a knife on the kitchen counter and creeps up behind him. Then wobbly, she stabs his side.

—No screams or yells were made, not even a hint of reaction. All he did was turn around.

(I don’t know how to color blood😔)

—that’s literally all he fucking asked.

—Yea this man literally calls you ‘master’.

—Probably because you basically adopted him.

—When you arrived back, your roommate was sitting outside, scared out of her mind. Just before she could shakily explain what happened, Arata opens the door, still butt naked and it’s just like ??

—you’re wondering who tf this is until you see his ears and tail.

—at this point it’s up to your imagination for how you react.

[entomolog-t]

INSTAЯ (3)

Multi Prompt Post; Mirror, Forlorn, Hush

Who else has ever thought, "You know what charades is missing? Angst."

In case the remark above wasn't clear, this chapter deals with some decent angst- you have been warned.

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word count: 2755

CW: Mild body horror, Panic/angst, Unintentional dehumanization, Adult language

I gasp as the weight in my hand thrashes- jerking up and scrambling back in my open palm. 

It- it’s alive?!

As if I’d been given a handful of burning coals, instinct yanks my hands back and the… thing clatter onto the floor with an audible clink.

What the fuck is -

Before my brain can follow, a not quite human form stumbles to its feet and bolts away and at an unnerving speed. Within a matter of seconds the kitchen erupts into chaos. Honey’s barking reverberates against the walls as she follows suit- bounding after it as if it were one of the numerous elusive squirrels frequenting the property. Mouth open, she lunges, in an attempt to grab it but the creature dives out of the way, letting out a strained noise- a high pitched wail followed by a series of clicks as it darts under the kitchen table. Like a bull in a China shop, Honey continues her pursuit, carelessly shoving chairs aside without a second thought as she gives chase to … to what?? Its almost as if my brain stutters, stumbling over dots it’s struggling to connect.

The creature- as fast as it was- was no match for Honey, especially in the open expanse of the kitchen. Their frantic chase lasts all of 10 seconds before Honey has it cornered. 

The creature squeaks- crying out as Honey pounces from side to side, yipping at it as she urges it to play in her very one sided game of chase- daring it to run. I stare blankly, having barely moved since my initial fright. 

I couldn't quite see the creature from my vantage point behind Honey, but the glimpses I had gotten were telling; the iridescent sheen, the strange limbs… 

There was no way…

The strained chittering from the corner jolts me out of my thoughts. Honey playfully nips at the creature not unlike the way she used to annoy the neighbors barn cat, blissfully unaware she was just torturing the poor thing… until he had swiped at her- The thought sends a chill through me. Would it bite her? Memories of its horrific mouth and those clawed finger tips are pulled from my mind… Sure, it was small, but that certainly didn’t mean that thing wasn’t dangerous- especially now that she had it cornered. 

My mind was racing, searching desperately for some sort of plan of action. What was I supposed to do? There was no way I was letting that thing escape somewhere in my house- but its not like I could just let Honey maul some… Alien..? Monster? I still had no clue what that thing was, and there was absolutely no way I was going to be touching that thing myself. I shuddered as my brain conjured up various gore filled movie scenes of parasitic aliens burrowing themselves into a host. Was that what it was? Some juvenile alien looking for a host?? My eyes hastily dart around the kitchen, looking for some kind of solution- and then I see it. 

A whiskey glass.

On the counter I spot one of the fancy glasses Clyde had insisted on bringing over the last time we drank. At the time I thought he was being pretentious, but at this moment I’m filled with nothing but thanks. 

I take a wary step forward and watch as both Honey and the creature’s head are on me in an instant. I give a sharp whistle. 

"Off." Honey tilts her head, reluctant to give up her new plaything, but upon making a noise of disapproval, she relents, trotting over behind me as she would when out hunting. I quickly take her spot- not letting the creature leave the corner. 

There's an audible squeak from the creature as I kneel down. It chitters frantically, all four of its arms raised up in between us as it takes a step back.  

Its antennae twitch in a way that almost seems ... nervous. It’s tail- I furrow my brow- it had a tail? Aside from the drastic change in size, the creature looked slightly different than it had before.  For one- it had a tail; whip-like and bristly, almost like a porcupine with its spines folded back. It’s antennae seemed thicker, club-like near the tip, and its shell, no longer an inky black, had taken on a deep bluish green tone. It stares up at me, eyes wide and unblinking as it continues to chitter, head turning to look at the glass and back to me. 

I raise the glass over its head and the creature stumbles, falling backwards in a much too human-like motion- a fearful little action that nearly makes me feel guilty. As the glass comes down over it, the creature ducks its head forward, clambering to its hands and knees- the whiskey glass too shallow even with it sitting.   

For a moment, we both stare at each other, until the reality of the situation seems to settle in; I had caught some tiny creature maybe-alien in a whiskey glass. 

Just what the Hell was I supposed to do now? Should I call some? Who would I even call??

I caught myself right before starting to chew on my thumb, trading in the old habit for occupying my hands with fidgeting instead. My eyes scan the countertops for my phone, finding it in its usual place at the corner opposite to me, right between my notepad and truck keys. 

I hesitate- not too keen on the idea of leaving the creature unattended even for a brief moment, lest that thing get loose in my house. Wracking my brain for any sort of plan, I start taking a mental inventory of anything I could possibly use within arms reach.

Cleaning supplies, baking supplies, paper towels, paper plates- 

I pause. 

That could work.

Opening the cupboard to my left, I pull out a paper plate. Tipping the glass up ever so slightly, I slip the plate underneath, frantically trying to convince myself this is no different from catching a wasp.

It’s face turns up to lock eyes with me, muffled chittering escaping from through the glass. It seemed to stare daggers at me, squinting at me as if it were… insulted? 

Questions of its intelligence resurface once again. There was no doubt in my mind that it was thinking, analyzing my actions as it scrutinized me… It had known how to lock the doors- Just how smart was this thing? More importantly - what was this thing? 

As I shimmy the plate underneath the glass, the creature reluctantly crawls onto it, its glare never once relenting. I stand, placing the trapped monstrosity on the countertop near my phone. With a deep breath, I pick up my phone and stare at the screen- my mind once again racing at the bizarre logistics- just who the Hell I was supposed to call about a potential alien I had trapped like some kind of weird bug? Should I call Clyde? The police? They’d think I was crazy, right? Should I lie, or - 

Tink.

A sharp clinking interrupts my thoughts. The creature bangs on the glass and I instinctively recoil 

“Fat chance I’m letting you out-” I mutter, but my words die in my mouth the moment my eyes are on it. I watch in horrified fascination as the creature gestures frantically pointing to the notepad. 

I freeze- heart beating wildly in my ears.

Did… Did it want to write?

An uneasy feeling creeps at the edge of my consciousness, making my skin prickle. As soon as I pick up the notepad it nods vigorously. That simple gesture made my skin crawl. It was communicating…

I feel as the blood drains from my face- a noticeable sinking feeling in my gut at the brief glimpse of this…this being’s intelligence.  

I blanche, staring at the being, dumbfounded. Its mouthparts twitch under my gaze, as it continues pointing insistently at the notepad and then to the pen, looking all too human in its frustration. 

It’s as though I’m underwater, my movements delayed as I pull up a chair and sit down. Carefully, I tilt the glass, a not insignificant part of my brain expecting the creature to dart off… but it doesn’t. Ever so slowly, it gets to its feet, tail swishing nervously as its multitude of eyes stay locked on my own. 

It chitters, raising up its first set of arms, gesturing impatiently for me to hand it the pen. I comply, placing the pen in their outstretched arms, taking note of just how massive the pen looks in their strange grasp; The being no bigger than the pen itself- if that. 

I flip the notepad open to a blank page and place it down in front of them. They awkwardly jostle the pen around, trying to figure out how best to hold it before figuring out a relatively steady grasp- the sight would be comical if it weren’t so bizarre… so real. In a motion almost akin to sweeping, bit by bit shaky letters begin to form.

H…E…L…P

I gasp- eyes wide as I read the word… the English word.

“H-help?” The creature flattens its antennae at the sound of my voice, but nods, “How-” I shake my head, wanting my own answers, “What are you?”

Again, it awkwardly dances with the pen as it answers,

H…U…M…A…N

It stares at the word before it moves, standing on the “HU” portion, and gesturing to the remaining letters.

M… A… N

My skin tingles with the pricking sensation of goosebumps as I read the word over again, mouth agape. A nervous laugh escapes me as the apparent not-so-human human points to the word and back to itself- himself. I grimace.

“I got news for you, buddy.”

The least human looking man I’d ever laid eyes on  chitters an aggravated series of clicks as he begins to write again, almost as if muttering to himself. 

W…A…N…T  

My mind reels trying to figure out what he would need.

L … O…O…K

As he finishes his second word he then points to himself. 

My mouth goes dry. Were they really human?  Worse yet, if he was … what happened to him?  

My voice feels hollow as I speak, 

“You want to look…? At yourself??” 

He makes a chirping sound, responding with an emphatic nod. An uncomfortable thought crosses my mind, Had he not seen what happened to him? I chew my lip, my thigh bouncing wildly beneath me.

“You know, it would have been faster to write mirror.” I quip, trying to relieve some of the tension I felt boiling under the surface. 

He chitters in what I assume to be annoyance, sounding oddly similar to a treed squirrel. I hear the jingle of Honey’s collar as she perks up- clearly all too familiar with that sound. 

I shoot Honey a stern look, 

“Stay.” Turning back to the little being I add, “That goes for you too,” as I get up to grab my purse from the coat rack. He tosses his hands up in an exaggerated gesture of exasperation. 

It’s as though I’m in a daze, my brain on autopilot as I navigate my way around the carnage of the night prior. The newfound context of the incident with the creature twisting a knot in my stomach. It’s- no, his hands raised in a placating gesture between Honey and himself… pleading to me… looking for help. I exhale- my breath coming out shaky. There were still so many questions- and it seemed like he had questions of his own as well. 

I return to the kitchen with my purse, finding him sitting down on the countertop, staring blankly at his hands. Upon my approach his antennae perk up, and he stands to meet me. I can’t help but stare. He looks so small. I rummage through the mishmash contents of my purse, pulling out a compact with a mirror. Part of me wants to warn him- but what was I supposed to say? Heads up, you’re fucking horrifying? Surely he would have some understanding about his situation. It’s not like they couldn’t see their own body… Or my reaction to him last night. Without saying a word, I pop the compact open, placing it in front of him.

At the sight of his reflection, he stumbles back- his strange mouth hanging agape. That is, until he catches sight of his mouth- his hands flying up rapidly to cover it from view. For a moment, everything is still. He stands frozen in front of his reflection, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Soft chittering fills trinkles into the silence. In an agonizingly slow motion, his first pair of limbs reaches upwards, while his second remains wrapped around his waist, as if covering himself. His hands move across the hard surface of his face. He grazes clawed fingertips around each eye, hands trembling as they come up to feel the horn like protrusions at his crown. 

He drops his hands, gaze falling to stare at them, before returning to his reflection once more. His movements at first slow and timid, increase in speed. He grabs at his face, twisting his head left and right before trembling hands grope at the gaps in his exoskeleton- frantically gripping and tugging at the edges. The groping becomes more violent- almost mauling- as he starts to pull at the edges of his shell as if wanting to rip it from his body. My hand twitches, ready to intervene. He chitters, and his attention gets pulled to his mouthparts. Motions far too violent, he yanks at the insectoid appendages covering his mouth, peeling back the appendages to stare at the horrific expanse of his oral cavity. I flinch at the pained squeak they make as he sees the grotesque sight of his inhuman maw. His chittering grows frantic- pained even. 

Hands shaking, he scrapes at the hard shell of his face with clawed fingers, reefing on any gaps in his armor while making a strange shrill sound, like a bird simultaneously whistling and hyperventilating. The sound came forth rapidly and without rhythm, hitching and catching at random intervals as his chest heaved- 

Oh. 

He was sobbing. 

My heart aches at the sight, and without thinking I reach my hand out in an attempt to break him from his panic. He flinches back staring up at me with too many wide wet eyes. I hesitate- hand hovering just before him, my heart wrenching in my chest. 

Ever so carefully, I curl my fingers around him. He stiffens, freezing in place. I brush my thumb across his cheek, gently wiping away a trail of tears dripping down the too hard and too smooth surface of his face. He goes rigid under my touch, but doesn't pull away- instead he looks away, turning his head to avoid my gaze.

I will my hand steady as I hook my finger under his chin, softly guiding his face back to meet mine. 

"Shh." I hush,  "I.. I don't know what's happening, but I'm here to help, okay?" 

As I speak, clawed hands grip onto my finger as his tiny form hunches forward, burying his face against my hand. My skin crawls as I feel his second set of arms unfurl, gripping onto my fingers. The sensation of the far too insect-like texture of their shell and two too many limbs against my skin made me wince- both disgusted with the sensation, but more so with myself for having the disgust cross my mind at all. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Almost as if to spite my own thoughts, I wrap my hands around him, in the closest approximation comfort I can think to provide- resenting the way I suppress a cringe as he returns the embrace. 

Muffled chirps spill from between my fingers, his body trembling under my touch. My throat constricts- thigh still rapidly bouncing against the chair. What was I supposed to do? How on Earth was I supposed to offer any comfort? I stroke his side with my thumb, ashamed that fidgeting action was more to comfort myself. I told them I would help them… What am I supposed to do? Is there even anything I can do? My heart wrenches. Fucking useless. In my hands I held a pitiful sight, and there was nothing I could do, no words I could say, no solution I could offer. 

All I could offer were hands to hold him.

[deathbxnny]

Hi there! After reading your post about little sister Qiqi request, i wonder how she would be like in CSM So can i request platonic hcs of CSM characters (Denji, Aki, Power, and Makima) x Qiqi like reader.

Context on the reader:

So the reader is the Jiangshi Devil who became a fiend by taking over a 10-12 year old corpse. They are Makima’s assistant and both of them have a relationship that Qiqi and Baizhu have. They aren’t the most liked but they arent the most hated either due to they’re forgetful nature, sure they have their journal to keep track of stuff but it’s a bit annoying. They’re also part of the Tokyo Special Division 4 so that Makima can keep an eye on the team

Also on an unrelated note, what are your thoughts on Jing Yuan’s and Cyno’s VA, Alejandro Saab. I just recently found out he used to voiced a character from my childhood’ so there’s that. I hope your doing well Bxnny, have great day/night!

- Flower Anon 🌸

-----♡

A/N: Hello Flower Anon! I love the idea, so thank you for the request! Also I don't know much about that VA, as I only grew up with German/Arabic television/media when I was younger. But from the short clips I've seen of him as a streamer, he looks really cool and funny!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, child devil fiend reader, fluff, kinda unserious in some parts, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Makima

Makima always keeps an eye on you at all times. Mainly because you're always at her side anyways, but also to make sure you don't get yourself in unnecessary trouble. You have a tendency to forget things and she tried helping you with the journal she gave you. But unfortunately, you also sometimes forget that you even have it.

For the most part, your job just included following Makima around and attempting to write down things she told you to. Sometimes, you were also send to secretly spy on people in the division for her, which didn't work out well for obvious reasons.

Makima takes good care of you, all things considered, and doesn't usually send you on any dangerous missions. She ofcourse doesn't care that you're a devil either. She begins to see you as a little sibling eventually, as she always craved the feeling of a family. She might even spoil you, if you've done particularly well lately. She just adores you really.

-----♡

》Aki Hayakawa

Aki well... he didn't know what to think of you at first. You were quiet and very forgetful, so you were pretty much harmless. But you were also a devil. A fiend at that. He also had to remind himself constantly that you aren't actually just a harmless child too, which didn't help him form an opinion on you either.

So, in the end, he really just accepts that you simply... exist in the division. He knows you're quite important to Makima and therefore treats you with the necessary respect, but he keeps his distance otherwise. Or well, tries to, as you get lost so often, that he usually has to be the one to find you again. And eventually, that makes him sympathise with you more, as he does feel sorry for you in an odd way.

In the end, he really does feel himself attached to you, as much as he denies it. You're just a kid in his head and it makes him want to protect and help you out. He also gets you some candy or "cocogoat milk" sometimes... whatever that is.

-----♡

》Power

Power saw your existence as a challenge, as were quite important to Makima, and constantly asked you to fight her. However, she was left baffled, when you'd just blankly stared at her and asked her who she was. She told you that 5 minutes ago... but she'll gladly just remind you again.

For some reason, you eventually remind her of a cat. She doesn't really know why, but she finds herself patting your head with a determined look and declaring that you won't ever get lost in her divine presence. In other words, you two will just get lost together.

She slacks off of work with you and drags you along, as you never really protest anyways. She later on gets scolded by Aki for 2 hours and then passive-aggressively told to never do that again by Makima. You seem to find Power fun however, as she isn't very serious and doesn't expect anything from you... though she can get tiring fast.

-----♡

》Denji

Probably the most chillest person for you to be around. He doesn't mind your forgetfulness and has no expectations of you either. The fact that you're a devil doesn't bother him either. He just sees you as a kid he sometimes has to take care of on Makima's request. With that said, he takes his babysitting job very seriously. Perhaps a little too seriously.

Absolutely nothing is hurting or touching you in his presence and he takes you out for a quick snack run often. He'll try out weird combinations of food with you or take plenty of walks around the city, until he finds something fun to do. And doing something fun with Denji around is pretty easy.

Denji and you become great friends, something that shows through you actually remembering things about him. He becomes one of your favourite devil hunters in the division too, which secretly annoys a certain woman...

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was coherent and okay! Thank you again for the request!<33

[mentally-ill-writer]

Careless banter??? Love it.

A/N: First actual skit I’m posting…no idea what I’m doing but like—it’s smth. Uhhh, unedited, probably going to change the characters a lot, fantasy world type stuff…basically sums it up.

Word count: 1263

In the midst of an otherwise ordinary day, Freya found herself hanging from a tall tree, a small yet intense ball of fire radiating heat from her calloused hands. Down below, Hiro stood patiently, expression clearly wavering between amusement and irritation. He called up to her, his voice echoing through the quiet forest. “Hey, moron! What in the nine circles of hell are you doing? We’re supposed to be on our way to the organization by now.”

Freya, always the optimist, didn't seem to mind her predicament. She flashed a cheerful smile and waved when she noticed Hiro's gaze upon her…situation. “I got stuck!” She announced with an air of nonchalance. Hiro paused, tilting his head in disbelief. “You…got stuck?” He repeated, tone hesitant. Freya responded with a nod, or at least attempted to. Upside down as she was, the action was rather challenging. “My shirt is stuck on a branch.” Hiro, unable to hold back his curiosity, asked, “Did you even try to get unstuck?” To which she replied, rather sheepishly, “…no.”

Hiro couldn’t help but grumble under his breath. In response, he summoned a small, delicate cat made entirely of water. It appeared beside him, its shimmering form instantly grabbing Freya’s attention. She squealed in delight, “Kitten!” She stretched out her hand, hoping to feel the cool touch of the water cat. However, her sudden movement caused her to lose her precarious balance, and she fell from the tree, landing flat on her back. She groaned in discomfort, “That…was not fun. Would not recommend.”

Hiro couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her antics, “I wonder why…” He said, the sarcasm evident in his tone. He then made a swift motion with his hand, causing the small water cat to instantly vaporize into thin air. Freya sat up abruptly, her face twisted into a pout. “I wanted to pet Kitten…” She complained. Hiro, trying to reason with her, suggested, “Maybe you could at least give her an actual name instead of ‘kitten’ with a weird pronunciation?”

“No…that’s boring.” Freya retorted, crossing her legs and sitting in a crisscross position. She stared blankly at the trees, a look of intense concentration on her face. “You’re literally calling a cat ‘kitten’ as a name.” Hiro pointed out, his tone laced with exasperation. “So what? It’s much better than a normal name. Also, didn’t you make your alias your dog's name?” She countered with a teasing smirk.

Hiro shot her a glare that was full of warning. “…shut it.” “I knew it! Oh, I’m so telling Claire that I won the bet.” Freya exclaimed, a self-satisfied grin spread across her face. She was probably daydreaming about the money she would receive. Again. Hiro, though irritated, was also mildly amused. “You made a bet on whether I named myself after my dog?”

He moved to sit beside her, intrigued by her peculiar thought process. “Well I was right, wasn’t I?” She retorted, her grin widening. Hiro found himself at a loss for words, only able to respond with a sigh.

"Mhm, mhm, but next time, why don't you consider coming to get me down yourself? You could be wrapping your hands securely around my waist," a soft chuckle escaped, hinting at the playful and teasing nature of the comment. "ready to steady me and help me down while-" Hiro turned his head away, attempting to hide his reaction. However, the tips of his ears, flaring a bright red, were still very much visible. He paused for a moment, his eyes darting around before he finally found his voice again. "No. Just...ugh, just shut up."

She grinned, her eyes filled with amusement as she sat up, extending an arm to playfully poke at his shoulder. “Aww, is someone flustered?” she teased, her voice filled with mirth.

“I am not flustered.” Hiro retorted, turning to glare at her, his face still flushed a mellow shade of red.

“I never said you were flustered,” She replied, her words filled with an undertone of mischief. That pulled him up short, and he opened his mouth and closed it again—left speechless. Freya laughed, her eyes sparkling with a hint of affection that made her gaze seem warmer.

“…Nevermind, we should get going. We’ll be late Rose.” Freya grimaced slightly at the nickname, a light frown tugging at her lips. “Please never call me that again. I’d much prefer ‘Darling’-”

“Shut up.” Hiro cut her off, his face was highlighted with a bright red, and his gaze avoided hers the best it could, choosing to focus on anything but her.

Freya, being the relentless tease she is, dug her feet into the ground, resisting when Hiro tried to pull her along with him. “Freya? Come on, we’ve got to go.” His tone was firm, the frown on his face so deep it seemed like it’d be permanently indented into his face.

“I’m not moving until you call me Darling,” Freya replied, her voice full of stubborn determination. Hiro froze up, his cheeks flaring a bright red as he whipped his head back to look at her, a mortified look on his face. “…What?”

“I will not move until you call me Darling.” She repeated her words, a wide grin on her face. “You know what I said.” He just stared at her, his face slowly heating up even more.

“Oh, did you know that I love eating apples? Also, you kind of look like an apple right now-” Her words were cut off when Hiro interjected, “Shut. Up.” Hiro looked away, dropping her hand and using his to cover his face, as if he could hide the blush that had taken over his features.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“No-…fuck. That’s not...Ugh, you’re going to twist my words out of context again, aren’t you?” Hiro sighed, seeming to have regained some semblance of tranquility after taking a few deep, calming breaths. “Aw, you know me so well. Are you sure there isn’t a tiny bit of affection hidden somewhere?” Freya teased, a wide, devilish grin splitting her face. Hiro merely rolled his eyes in response and reached out to grab her hand. “Come on. We need to leave.” She dug her heels into the ground, resisting his pull.

“Oh? Dodging my question now, are we? I’m not moving an inch until you call me Darling.” Hiro groaned, his face still flushed a beet red from their earlier interaction. “You’re impossible.” “I know,” She retorted, flashing him a quick, radiant smile that left Hiro staring for a second, his hand slowly lowering from his face, completely mesmerized by her charm.

He shook his head, looking away to hide his obvious interest. “..I….ugh, let’s..go…” Freya grinned, motioning for him to continue with an excited smile that could light up a room. “…Darling.” Though he practically spoke through his teeth, her grin widened at the sound of the term of endearment, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yes, yes! We’ll be late, won’t we dear?”

He groaned again, a sound of pure exasperation, and let her drag him along, their fingers quietly intertwining in a subtle display of affection—his face flaring up a disgustingly bright shade of red that contrasted sharply with his usual calm demeanor.

“…I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“…”

[strelles-universe]

Strike the Match - Chapter 4: The First Day

“He’s not awake yet?”

“Be patient Lionbelly - yesterday was a busy day.”

“We’ve been trying but he’s sleeping deeper than a vole in a snow-drift.”

“Come on Cardinalpaw, wake up!”

Who’s Cardinalpaw? Soŕi wondered blearily, snuggling deeper into his nest. He was unusually cold and felt a lack of tails and fur draped over him. He figured his siblings must’ve left early to perform their tasks - thank the Skies that his duties wouldn’t need his attention until later. He curled into a tighter ball as the voices kept talking, speaking annoyingly loud - as if they didn’t notice that cats were still trying to sleep. He wrapped his tail more tightly around himself, opening his tail-fins to cover his face. Just when he was finally able to tune the talking out, drifting back into a blissful sleep; something prodded him sharply in the side. Immediately he hissed, swiping in the direction of the prodding with his claws. He was prodded again and this time he growled, muttering curses under his breath and slowly at up. He opened his eyes; glaring talons at the mass of blue fur staring down at him.

“Good, you’re awake,” the molly said satisfied. 

Soŕi stared at her blankly for a long moment, trying to process who this cat was and why she was bothering him while he was so tired. It was only when he spotted the fluffy head of Jackdawpaw peering behind her before getting shooed back out that the events from the day before slammed into him at full force. He yawned hard; his muscles immediately twitching from the residual soreness and the cuts he’d neglected to treat starting to itch and sting. He stood on shaky paws, his pads immediately reminding him that he hadn’t properly applied the poultice to them. He did his best to ignore the discomfort as he arched his back, stretching his limbs out before him in an attempt to alleviate some of the soreness. He gave himself one last shake before he blearily followed Asterdawn from the den - the cadet’s den he reminded himself - and out into the main clearing.

He yawned again when confronted with the dark blue sky and a chilly wind grazing his already rumpled coat. He shook out his paws a few times as he followed Asterdawn over to a group of cats already waiting for them. He blinked tiredly as he identified the forms of Jackdawpaw, Ravenpaw and Lionbelly. 

“Hey!” Jackdawpaw purred happily. Cardinalpaw was immediately jealous that he didn’t seem nearly as sore as he was, standing easily on all four paws with his tail raised confidently. For his part, Cardinalpaw plopped right back down when he deemed that he was close enough to be part of the conversation without looking off. “I thought you’d died!”

“Jackdawpaw,” sighed Lionbelly, shaking his head with fond exasperation.

“What? It was like Riversoul was poking through his head,” the gray cadet defended.

Cardinalpaw blinked tiredly as he twisted around, drawing his tongue over his crinkled mess of a coat. He dislodged the bits of moss that had gotten caught in his fur, picking out the leaves and twigs from the impromptu ‘test’ he’d been put through before. He felt a bit scruffy being so visibly disheveled in front of others, but beyond a little snicker from Jackdawpaw and a slight whisker twitch from Ravenpaw, none of them seemed too upset by his appearance. He dragged his tongue down one last prickled space, as his ears swiveled.

The murmur of the barracks was different from the one in the kingdom - it was a bit louder, not just the rustle of trees and the dawn creature moving swiftly through the brush but also the sounds of some cats talking quietly among themselves. When his gaze flicked up, he could see Mottletail, tired but awake speaking to a triad of cats surrounding him. He heard some squeaking and giggling from the cubs in the nursery. 

It’s smaller, Cardinalpaw realized as he straightened up. Even if he factored in the vast section of the forest that Stormborn claimed as their own, the faction’s territory was simply smaller than his old home. So everything seemed louder, the cats seemed more crowded and everyone is curled together.

“Protecting the borders of our territory is important to ensuring that our faction always has enough resources to survive,” Asterdawn started to lecture. Cardinalpaw focused most of his attention on her, noting that Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw seemed to be listening as well. “Dawn patrol is one of three regular day patrols that you’ll be expected to join as a member of the Stormborn. The other two patrols are the sunhigh patrol and the sunset patrol.”

She flicked her tail, gesturing to the rustling gorse tunnel as a trio of new cats came in, all yawning and looking sleepy as they made their way to Mottletail.

“Those cats were on the night patrol,” Asterdawn added. “Can any of you name what time the night patrols would be held at?”

Cardinalpaw just yawned again, conveying that his sleepy mind wasn’t in a state to be making obvious connections.

“A moonpeak patrol?” Ravenpaw offered hesitantly

“Yes,” Asterdawn agreed, pointing her muzzle after the now identified ‘moonpeak patrol.’ “We have a moonpeak patrol and a dusk patrol.”

“...two dusk patrols?” Cardinalpaw prompted, confused.

“The Fennyield are known to be more active along the borders at night,” said Lionbelly. “So rather than a single patrol that covers the whole border, there are two dusk patrols and dawn patrols. Each covers a different border.”

That makes sense, Cardinalpaw thought nodding along. It was like swapping the pen-guards during marten season. 

“Why is my first border patrol a dawn patrol?” Cardinalpaw huffed, his ears half-flattened.

“It’s tradition,” Jackdawpaw said, stifling his own yawn but still more awake than Cardinalpaw was. “All cadets get dawn patrol as their first patrol - feel lucky, this is my second dawn patrol!”

“Second?” Cardinalpaw echoed.

“Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw wanted to be there for your first patrol,” Asterdawn explained. “So they asked their mentors to come along.”

Cardinalpaw cast his new denmates a surprised but pleased expression.

“Yekiyai, ” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

Ravenpaw ducked behind Jackdawpaw looking embarrassed, the other cadet adopting a slightly sheepish look. Cardinalpaw hazarded that the cadets hadn’t expected Asterdawn to tell him that their presence was anything more than a coincidence. Their mentors just chuckled at the shy silence that settled around the three of them.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Cardinalpaw turned his head to a brown furred tabby tom trotting over as quickly as he could while still looking dignified. His black tabby swirls standing out starkly against his brown coat, yellow eyes flashing with apology. He had some of the smallest tusks Cardinalpaw had seen yet - barring the nubs that his denmates had - with thin canines that looked far more fragile than the bulky ones in the other mentors’ mouths. Ravenpaw perked up slipping from behind Jackdawpaw to raise his tail in warm greeting, purring lightly as the two touched noses. The brown tom gently licked between the lanky cadet’s ears before turning his attention to Lionbelly and Asterdawn, “The moonpeak patrol reported more Shorerisen scent straying across the border.”

Lionbelly made a huffing nose in his chest, “Worry not Larkwing - Jackdawpaw was just explaining the tradition of dawn patrols to Cardinalpaw.”

“Ah,” said Larkwing, his whiskers twitching as he glanced down at the new cadet. “I nearly clawed my mentor’s whiskers off my first morning.”

“So did I,” Lionbelly rumbled.

Asterdawn merely chuckled and motioned for the patrol to follow her, making her way to the gorse tunnel. Cardinalpaw followed dutifully, relieved that he’d taken their waiting time to groom down his fur as he struggled through the gorse tunnel again. It was harder this time with sore muscles and slightly unkempt fur.

Skies I hope this gets easier, he thought to himself exasperated. It could be worse though he supposed, watching Lionbelly walk stiffly from the tunnel; no doubt leaving half of his mane behind for collection on the thorn.

Asterdawn directed their patrol through the cool, damp forest; clearly unbothered by the slippery leaves and the dew coated grass brushing against her legs. Cardinalpaw did his best to resist the urge to sit and clean his paws - he’d managed to race through mud yesterday, he could handle some morning dew. Still, he made a point of walking around the deeper, more waterlogged parts. He clambered slightly more efficiently over another log than he had the morning before, this time unhindered by his lungs demanding oxygen. All in all, it was a pretty peaceful stroll and Cardinalpaw used the quiet noise of the forest awakening to become a bit more coherent himself.

He was just reaching a point of further alertness when Jackdawpaw stiffened alongside Ravenpaw.

“I smell dohaaliyanva,” Jackdawpaw said, narrowing his eyes. 

“What?” Cardinalpaw asked.

“Outsiders,” Ravenpaw said, sniffing the air.

I don’t smell anything, Cardinalpaw thought to himself. After a moment of futilely trying to identify what they were smelling, he parted his mouth in the hopes of catching something. Something brushed his flank and he glanced at Asterdawn who had a sympathetic look.

“You won’t notice if you’re simply looking for something out of the ordinary,” she advised him. “Their scent likely still says ‘home’ to you.”

Home, Cardinalpaw blinked. He sniffed again, this time paying attention to everything that touched his nose. It didn't take long for him to finally catch the smokey scent that he associated with warmth, crackling hearths; the sharp and cold-scent of silvermint dancing through the air. Reflexively he adjusted his posture, straightening up and pricking his ears. He even took a moment to quickly twist around and lick down any lingering tufts of fur standing out - there were cats of the Shining Sun nearby and he couldn’t afford to look scruffy.

He almost didn’t notice his patrol moving on he was so focused on cleaning himself up. As soon as he flattened the last stubborn tuft of fur, he darted ahead to keep pace with Asterdawn’s long strides. Quickly enough he identified the scratched trees that had started the encounter that led them to where they are.

“This is the Neutral Stretch” Asterdawn lectured and Cardinalpaw wondered if this was standard or if she was attempting to prevent another incident. “As Chaffinchpaw and Wrenpaw discovered, this is a stretch of territory that belongs to the Shining Sun that the Stormborn lost during The Mad Star’s reign.”

Cardinalpaw perked up - he’d never heard this story from the faction’s point of view.

“Relations between the Stormborn and the Kingdom of the Shining Sun were very negative because of The Raids and a short war took place as The Mad Star forgot that the Shining Sun hosts more than just cats,” Asterdawn said grimly. “Queen Alaina landed a killing blow against The Mad Star stating that it was a warning to all Thunders to stay out of the Sun or be destroyed.”

Ravenpaw shuddered near him, Jackdawpaw immediately moving to press against his friend comfortingly.

“Like the Lost Faction,” Jackdawpaw mumbled.

Asterdawn nodded solemnly, “Yes.”

“Thankfully dying once made The Mad Star see sense and he surrendered to the Shining Sun and gave up a large swathe of territory in compensation.”

“But we already lost!” Jackdawpaw protested. “Why did they take territory too!”

“We lost land Jackdawpaw,” Lionbelly rumbled gently. “But they lost sons. The Mad Star’s madness got a prince killed - we were lucky all they did was demand territory.”

“Ikema the First,” Cardinalpaw hissed, flexing his claws making the others jump. It was like they’d forgotten he was there - that he’d come from the kingdoms. Cardinalpaw knew this part of the story well. It was still taught to all of the cubs and pages on the kingdom as a warning against the factions - that only fully or mostly trained guardians should force themselves to be involved with the factions. 

The grown cats exchanged looks.

“I suppose it’s still a popular tale in the Sun?” inquired Larksong.

“Yes,” agreed Cardinalpaw simply.

He turned away, focusing on the Neutral Stretch and the blurs of fur he’d started to see to go along with the familiar scents. Sure enough, a few guardians and who he could only assume were their pages were training with each other. The pages were clearly young and going through basic conditioning as they were being made to run around, occasionally wrestling each other until a command was said and then they were weaving through trees again. 

“The Sun still uses it as a training ground for their young,” Larkwing remarked, watching the movement. He glanced at Cardinalpaw curiously, “Do you know what they’re practicing?”

“It’s just conditioning,” Cardinalpaw divulged. It wasn’t exactly hyper personal or critical information about the Shining Sun so he didn’t mind sharing. Besides, his kingdom praised and honored the sharing of knowledge where it was possible. “The pages are too young to really get into proper training so they’re being shown how to strengthen their bodies so that when they are ready, they can jump in all paws first.”

“Young?” Jackdawpaw asked, whiskers twitching. “We’re hardly old ourselves!”

Cardinalpaw shook his head, “Pages are somewhere between three and five moons old.”

“Oh,” said Jackdawpaw looking surprised, mulling over the concept in his mind.

“Why so young?” Lionbelly asked, with a slight frown.

Cardinalpaw flicked his ear, “Makiŕa says it's because all cubs need time to run around and it's easier to keep them from sneaking off if they’re ‘training.’ Since it also helps prepare them to become squires, it’s a win-win for everyone.”

Lionbelly hummed his understanding as Asterdawn began to lead them closer to the training cats, her tail in the air.

“Um,” Ravenpaw started to asked, visibly shrinking.

Larkwing brushed his tail over his cadet’s back, explaining kindly, “Our faction doesn’t have a good reputation with the outside right now. We don’t want the Shining Sun to think we’ve returned to the old ways and so….”

Ravenpaw caught on, perking up a little, “...so we have to speak to them and smooth things over?”

“Or at least be friendly,” Larkwing confirmed with a prideful purr.

When they were in earshot, Asterdawn released a ‘meow’ that drew the attention of the training cats. One cat - a primarily golden furred tortoiseshell molly with light green eyes - started to walk forward while the other two cats ushered the squires further back. Cardinalpaw racked his brain for a moment, unwilling to move forward and be seen until he could identify the cat.

“Anuŕai akyeedaan,” she greeted coolly, keeping her head high. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

Asterdawn dipped her head, “Just showing our cadets the border - informing them of the Neutral Stretch agreement.”

Lionbelly ushered Ravenpaw and an unusually, shy looking Jackdawpaw forward to be seen by the kingdom cats. Ravenpaw shrank away a little when the tortoiseshell leaned in to sniff him curiously; likely taking in the special scent of the factions lingering in his pelt.

I’ll finally get to know what it is, Cardinalpaw purred to himself unintentionally drawing attention.

The molly glanced at Cardinalpaw fleetingly at first before doing a double taking, looking him over and drawing her eyes across his collar. As soon as she saw his charm, she coughed; bringing further attention.

“Are you alright Enha? What’s wrong?” one of the other soldiers called out.

“I- yes,” she stammered, eying Cardinalpaw.

He waved his tail, already having an idea of why she was so distressed, “It’s alright, it’s not like I’m on duty.”

“So the announcement was true?” Enha inquired, looking curiously at the rest of the patrol. “You truly joined ba hafaaŕasi efra?”

“Yes,” Cardinalpaw said proudly, only a bit surprised that his leaving had already been announced to the kingdom. Ahasra must’ve told their mother the same day he left - which means that the announcement would’ve come out only the night before. “I’m on a dawn patrol, actually”

“Ah, forcing you to be awake before the birds?” Enha said teasingly.

Cardinalpaw just laughed, his reputation for not being a morning tom was well-known. He often overslept when their mother arranged earlier tutoring sessions for him. 

“Yeah - it feels like I’m being targeted,” he joked. “My flame flickers in this dreadful wind.”

The molly giggled at his dramatics, turning back towards the training group when one of the soldiers called out for her attention. 

“I’ll let you get back to your training,” Cardinalpaw said kindly. “We can talk again another time.”

Enha nodded, bowing her head. Cardinalpaw stepped forward, reflexively pressing his nose to the space between her ears to formally dismiss her from the conversation alongside giving her blanketed permission to further ignore him in favor of her duties.

“Siyuyuova ka-veshano,” Enha said respectfully, backing away from him. Then she strode back to her training. Cardinalpaw watched them for a moment, Enha gesturing to him and the other soldiers’ heads snapped to him. He watched one tom start to move forward only to be shooed back towards the pages by Enha, likely being scolded for attempting to come butter him up. Cardinalpaw chuckled - at some point, he would have to visit the kingdom again to give a formal statement about his leaving and how he was adjusting, but for now, he would enjoy being as he was. 

“Veshano.”

Cardinalpaw turned his head to Larkwing who’d spoken the lightly accented word. The tom was looking at him in pure shock, a paw raised, and his ears flattened with visible horror.

“Larkwing?” Lionbelly prompted.

“Veshano… you’re the prince?” Larkwing gasped.

“What?” Asterdawn snapped, straightening up.

Cardinalpaw sighed, a bit saddened that his anonymity had been destroyed in one single moment but intrigued by the fact that Larkwing seemed to recognize the word.

“You speak Sivake?” Cardinalpaw asked curiously.

“A little,” said the brown tabby informed. “Enough to get through formalities.”

“Larkwing is our diplomat,” Asterdawn put forth, still seeming a bit shocked by the revelation. The burly molly seemed to be completely reevaluating everything that had led up to this moment in time, scanning Cardinalpaw over with a new light in her eyes and a tenseness to her body. “Occasionally he leaves the faction to speak with the Shining Sun about trade deals and treaties. Though as we’ve been fairly isolated lately, he hasn’t really had a chance to perform his job among the kingdoms.”

“Oh,” said Cardinalpaw, digesting that information. He nodded - that made sense he supposed, the kingdom had seekers who performed a similar task after all. He spun his tail, the secret was out so he didn’t see a reason to lie or try to deny anything. “And yes, I’m a prince. The second son.”

“Beetle-dung!” Asterdawn cursed, her tail lashing. “Larkwing, remind me to gather the heads together when we return to barracks - we may need to put together damage control.”

“It’s fine, makiŕa would never declare war or anything over a misunderstanding,” Cardinalpaw said dismissively. He tactfully left out that she was also severely overprotective of his littlest sister - the two of them had smoothed over the incident with their mother for the most part. The fact that there were still pages being trained on the stretch confirmed that the guardians believed the factions were of minimal threat and therefore, so did his mother. He probably had his eldest sister to thank for that but he’d take the mercies where they were offered. “You didn’t leave any lasting harm either.”

“Still… it’s further soured our reputation among the kingdoms,” Asterdawn sighed, her tail lashing as the gravity of Wrenpaw and Chaffinchpaw’s mistake was made clear. She led them away from the border, talking aloud, “If we keep this up, we’ll be placed on the trading-blacklist.”

Lionbelly shook his head, “I’ll call the guards in for a sensitivity meeting. We have to ensure that this mistake doesn’t happen again - especially not from adult legionaries.”

“Agreed,” Asterdawn said firmly.

“...so… what’s it like being a prince?” Jackdawpaw asked hesitantly. Cardinalpaw didn’t like the new aura of caution around the tom he was beginning to see as his friend, nudging him lightly.

“Busy,” he admitted. “We all have duties to attend to - my job was to attend to the far-pens.”

“The far-pens?”

“It’s where we raise livestock during the warm season - mostly chickens, ducks, sheep and goats.”

His fellow cadets ooh’ed at his explanation and Cardinalpaw noted the way the adults were watching him too. His right ear twisted, slightly uncomfortable with being stared at, the way he was being treated differently for his newly revealed status as a prince of the Sun.

“... I can tell you more later, when the patrol is done,” Cardinalpaw offered in compromise. “And you can tell me about what it’s like to grow up here.”

“Deal!” Jackdawpaw chirped.

Cardinalpaw sighed in relief as they refocused on following Asterdawn along the patrol, following the line of scratched trees until they steadily began to disappear. The further they walked, the muckier the grass came, the tom grimacing as mud began to well up from the soil beneath his paws. The damp leaves slowly became streaked across the grass, mashing together in a slimy sort of covering and Cardinalpaw found himself quickly falling behind. He started walking oddly, lifting his paws high as he tried to avoid sinking any deeper in the slime.

“Ew,” Cardinalpaw gagged, shaking his paw in a disgusted manner as it got caught beneath his claws and between his toes. You couldn’t even see the white-cream on his forepaws that he shared with all of his siblings and father. 

Jackdawpaw grumbled his agreement, following Asterdawn with an expression of general disdain. Ravenpaw was taking the muck much better - the lanky tom barely sinking too deeply. Lionbelly, Larkwing and Asterdawn seemed unbothered by the mud clinging to their pelts - Cardinalpaw couldn’t understand why. Especially Lionbelly.

Isn’t he worried about the matting? Cardinalpaw thought to himself in disbelief, watching the mud clump together on the golden tom’s ankles; tangling with twigs and leaves.

Finally their leader stopped at a natural pathway, a trail of trampled grass and leaves that had long since been trodden away; only small bits of baby grass poking their way through the soil. There were rocks and twigs kicked off to the side or pressed so deeply in the soil that when he reached out, they were flat to the touch. More importantly, there was a musky scent that he’d come to associate with faction-cats enaminating from the other side of the path; a slight difference he just couldn’t place touching his tongue. 

“This is the Deer Path,” Asterdawn announced, looking more at Cardinalpaw than the other cadets. Fair enough, he presumed that Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw had done this tour yesterday while he slept in the sunlight away. “It was made by the herds that come through this forest - usually deer hence its name. Once the grass had been flattened out, the other creatures began using it - now it serves as the border between The Fennyield and the Stormborn.”

She turned a stern look on all three cadets, “Although the Fennyield are dangerous, the real danger is in the boar that make their way down this trail. Boar have been known to target lone cats here for seemingly no reason - and small herds have gone after entire patrols. If you see a boar, there are no faction rivalries, only cats vs. boar.”

“That’s why it’s also called the Path of Blood,” Jackdawpaw said with a mischievous grin. “It’s said that if you’re here all alone and you touch the path, Fury herself will be summoned and gore you! Leaving you impaled on her tusks!”

He pounced on Ravenpaw giving him a gentle nip with his own forming tusks making his friend yowl with a combination of general shock and fright, immediately scrambling away from his laughing friend. The lanky tom panted a little, coming down from his startled state and promptly swatted Jackdawpaw in the face.

“Beetle-brain,” he huffed, turning his head.

Jackdawpaw rubbed against him, purring lightly, “Aw, I was just kidding around Ravenpaw.”

“It wasn’t very funny,” Ravenpaw grumbled, accepting the purring all the same.

“I’m sorry Rave, I won’t play that trick again,” Jackdawpaw promised, bumping the lanky tom’s shoulder with his head one last time. Ravenpaw seemed to relent at that, twisting around and licking between the fluffier legionary’s ears in forgiveness.

Lionbelly chuckled at the cadets’ antics, gently smacking Jackdawpaw with his tail.

“Save your energy for training,” the fluffy tom chided. “You’ll need it.”

Asterdawn started walking again, leading their patrol along the deer trail and pointing out any important land-marks that they passed. The interested expressions on his fellow cadets’ faces made Cardinalpaw think that their own mentors hadn’t done this part of the tour. They veered slightly further inland, moving away from squishy wet ground to more firm soil again. Cardinalpaw and Jackdawpaw exchanged equally grateful expressions.

They came upon some large rocks stacked together, roughly packed leaving various gaps and crevices visible even from a distance. They were lightly streaked with dirt with only a few smooth spots that he could see directly in patches of sunlight. Asterdawn stopped them a full tail-length from the rocks, flicking out her tail to tell them to halt. 

"This is the Boa's Sarsen," the molly declared, eying the stones with caution. She flicked her tail towards one of the inky-black silhouettes Cardinalpaw had seen. It was only now that he realized the spot was moving - he watched in slight awe as the creature reared up on its legless body, flaring a hood on the back of his head in warning. Asterdawn quickly ushered them a few tail-lengths further back, watching carefully as the creature slowly lowered itself back down in the rocks; settling in the same shadow that made it hard to see in the first place. “It’s home to many venomous creatures but it’s known as the nesting and Sunningplace of adders and black-whips.”

“This is technically also a hunting place,” Lionbelly rumbled. “The snakes are usually only out at dawn or dusk to warm their scales but you should always be careful when treading here. Blackwhip venom is highly toxic, and only the Fennyield truly have an antidote for it.”

“If we have the Sarsen, why won’t they give us the antidote?” Jackdawpaw asked curiously.

“For pressure,” Larkwing explained. “Snakes are sacred to the Fennyield and they believe this to be this to be the petrified form of Hakassebera. When she lived, her best and only cat-friend was a Thunder cat so, the Fennyield rarely attempt to take the landmark - all they ask is that we allow them access to the stones for prayer and worship. Any good leader agrees - there is no harm in letting the devoted visit their place a worship, especially when it’s so close to the border anyway.”

“The important words are ‘good leaders,’” Asterdawn growled. “The Mad Star believed that the Stormborn could only exist on its own and needed to ‘crack down on trespassers.’ He banned the Fennyield from accessing the rocks and even when Pinestar reversed the decision, the Fennyield couldn’t trust us any longer. So now they hoard the blackwhip antidote to enforce their access to the Sarsen.”

Cardinalpaw’s head was spinning - there was so much information to absorb here. These dangerous rocks were a place of worship? This was a petrified beast? Withholding life-saving treatments?

There’s so much to learn, Cardinalpaw thought to himself. He was slightly overwhelmed and slightly excited at the same time. When he steps back a little, he supposes that the jumble of rocks does look like the curled and tangled form of a sleeping snake.

“Let’s move on,” Asterdawn said, motioning for them to follow her. “We don’t want to disturb the blackwhips any more than we already have.”

Considering he didn’t want to be poisoned on his first day as a faction-cat, Cardinalpaw was quick to fall into step beside his own mentor. Sadly, though they left behind the danger of venom spitting snakes taller than he was long, the trail that Asterdawn was leading them on steadily became muddy one more. He sighed resigned to the fact that he would be spending much of his time when he got back to barracks cleaning the mud from his paws and toes, exchanging an equally tortured expression with Jackdawpaw. He supposed he could at least be grateful that Cardinalpaw only possessed mid-length fur - Jackdawpaw would be cleaning his pelt long after Cardinalpaw had finally finished his.

His ears pricked at the sound of rushing water and Cardinalpaw glanced up, only slightly surprised to see the wide-spanned river flowing relentlessly. As they approached closer, he noted a series of stones resisting the water, creating a trail from their side to the other. On either side of where the stone-trail started were wooden statues of cats. The ones closest to him were both small - cubs he presumed, pressed into the waterbed. Both wooden statues were deeply colored and glossy, looking freshly made despite the fact that patches of moss had begun to grow on them in various places. On the other side of the bridge were two more statues - one of an adult cat and the other was another cub.

“These are the Crossing Stones said to have been placed here by Treesoul after Riversoul created the river so that the Stormborn and the Shorerisen could work out our trade-agreements,” Asterdawn explained to them. “These are mostly used by diplomats and healers to trade herbs and information during peace times.”

“And the statues?” Cardinalpaw asked.

“That’s Mapleshade and her cubs!” Jackdawpaw said enthusiastically, interrupting Asterdawn from answering. The gray cadet all too happy to explain this portion of faction history to him, “Her cubs drowned in the river after the Mad Star kicked her out and one of our own factionmates watched it happen. The statues are here to remind both factions that the legionary code says that you always help cubs in need - regardless of faction.”

“I see someone was listening to their elders,” Lionbelly rumbled approvingly, making the tom puff his chest out in faction. “Yes young Cardinalpaw, here a tragedy took place and it was here that Darkstar and Pinestar agreed to leave a reminder of what happened.”

He gestured to the two cubs on their side of the river.

“This is where Mapleshade was buried after her body was recovered, so that her spirit may find peace being near her cubs,” the golden tom explained.

Cardinalpaw stared at the little statues feeling something akin to grief and horror for cats he’d never known and were likely younger than him. As a cat from a kingdom of fire, drowning was very high up on his list of terrible ways to die. Very few things are more horrific than having the fires of your life quenched and smothered by the pull of the seas. He moved forward, hesitantly pressing his nose to the wooden ear of one of the cubs.

I hope your breach was painless and that your light shone brightly.

As he stepped back, he noted the bowed heads of his patrol as they too paid their respects to the long passed cubs.

Asterdawn continued the tour, leading them along the muddy bank of the river. Cardinalpaw’s nose wrinkled - the scent of the river itself was becoming intertwined with a new scent; chamomile and something distinctly fishy in smell. From the way Jackdawpaw kept sniffing and shaking his head while Asterdawn’s ears pulled back, her tail lashing angrily, Cardinalpaw figured it was another faction. And not one they were fond of.

Before long they came upon their next landmark - a pile of stones much like the Sarsen and he hesitantly slowed down, uncertain of how close they were going to go. Unlike the Sarsen, these stones were truly massive - looking more like boulders with their tops sheared clean off giving them the surprisingly smooth and inviting look they possessed. The grass pestered off into debris, small scattered rocks and a sea of sand surrounding the stones. The sunlight - by this point, brilliant and warm - shone down directly on all the stones, making the minerals glimmer vaguely as they looked at it. These stones also possessed the scent of the enemy faction all over them, practically smothering the scent of Stormborn thickly enough that Cardinalpaw would never be able to tell this was their territory if he hadn’t been shown.

Lionbelly and Larkwing wasted no time marking the border with far more aggression and more thorough than the others they’d marked leaving Asterdawn to introduce the smooth stones on her own.

“This is the Suncairn” she practically hissed, her tail still lashing furiously. “And the stench in the air is the Shorerisen. Remember this scent - the Shorerisen are always trying to steal the Suncairn from us.”

“Why? Do they not have other rocks in their own territory?” Cardinalpaw asks.

“Only the Souls knows what runs through the minds of the Shorerisen,” said Larkwing, coming back over with Lionbelly. “The Stormborn were granted these lands by right of the Souls themselves when the river re-routed to keep our faction from starving.”

“Never give Shorerisen an inch about the Suncairn,” Lionbelly growled. “If you offer an ear, they’ll ask for a paw and before you know it, they’ll have taken the stones. Keeping this section of territory means the difference between surviving the winter or looking a queen in the eyes and telling her that we have no food for her or her cubs.”

Cardinalpaw shuffled as the adults let the lesson sit heavily on their chests, taking in the severity of the situation. Cardinalpaw shuddered at the idea of being responsible for a queen being too weak and hungry to produce milk and one of her cubs dies. Or an elder passes because their weaker bodies need consistent food to keep their immune system up to date. When the adults were satisfied that they were taking the situation seriously, Asterdawn flicked her tail to continue their patrol. This time however, all three cadets were boxed in, Lionbelly’s imposing form walking along the side of them closest to the border with Larkwing on their other side. They stopped more frequently to strengthen their border, Larkwing and Asterdawn eyeing the river like they expected enemy legionaries to arise from the river in a violent ambush at any moment.

Ravenpaw’s lashing tail reassured him that he wasn’t the only uncomfortable with the amount of stress the adults were in and Cardinalpaw found his eyes darting towards the river every once in a while and jumping at every loud bubble. He drew closer to his fellow cadets, their tails brushing over each other anxiously. Slowly but surely, the older cats began to unwind; their hackles lowering and the lashing tails becoming still. Cardinalpaw was still uncomfortable but at least now he could breathe.

By now his paws were starting to hurt again, and his stomach was beginning to alert him to the fact that he hadn’t eaten that morning. He started shaking his paws with every step he took, wincing as his tender paws touched the ground. Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw were clearly starting to feel the burn as well, the lanky tom half-limping and Jackdawpaw’s ears remained pressed against his head.

Asterdawn glanced down at them a couple of times before adopting an apologetic expression, “Hold on you three - one more place and then we can head back to barracks. The rest of the border doesn’t have many important marks and everything within our territory will be shown to you by your individual mentors.”

“Thank the Souls,” Jackdawpaw muttered as Ravenpaw sighed with relief. “I was worried my paws were going to fall off!”

Asterdawn led them up to a ridge, pausing so that they could catch up. Cardinalpaw licked his paws a few times, grimacing as he tried to soothe their soreness. His eyes flicked up to the four massive oak trees down the ridge in the center of the flattened grass clearing. There were many scents that he could smell, all faint and intertwined in a strange cocktail as Asterdawn addressed the final mark on their border patrol.

“This,” Asterdawn began dramatically. “Is The Kirkyard. The four trees were pulled from the earth by Treesoul herself and it is here under Ba Dimm that all four factions come together in peace. The Kirkyard is always neutral territory to speak and make deals or trades on but, on the day of a full moon when Sunsoul’s Eye is at it’s widest, we play games, compete in competitions and hunt as if we were one faction. When her eye closes and Moonsoul’s opens as wide as it can be, we share faction news - like the birth of our cubs, new cadets, new legionaries and threats that affect all factions.”

Cardinalpaw curled his tail - The Kirkyard? A place where the dead were buried? He sort of hoped someone was willing to explain that to him, “There was a half-moon the day before - it should be full in a few days.”

“Correct,” agreed Asterdawn with an approving nod. “All new cadets attend the Games closest to them so that they can be announced - so you and all of your denmates will be attending the upcoming one.”

“Yes!” Jackdawpaw cheered. “I can’t wait! I wanna see The Skua for myself!”

“I wanna see The Styrman,” Ravenpaw countered. “Longtail says he’s almost as big as Our Storm!”

Cardinalpaw glanced at his massive mentor and wondered how anyone could compete in size with her.

“Beyond The Kirkyard straight ahead is the Galespun,” Larkwing offered, chuckling at their excitement. “Led by-”

“Magpietail!” Cardinalpaw voiced immediately, his dorsal spines flapping with excitement.

“...Magpietail among his friends although he is referred to as The Vendus as a sign of respect by those outside of the Galespun,” corrected Asterdawn, curiosity in her gaze. “Are you familiar with him?”

“The idea of him,” Cardinalpaw admitted, debating how much information to reveal. The factions didn’t seem very close to each other - always looking to take advantage of another’s weakness. Would this count as a weakness to the Galespun? He didn’t want Magpietail - or well, The Vendus - to get hurt. “...my father knew him. He saw Galespun territory with his own eyes - he said there’s nothing but grass and bushes as far as you can see.”

Larkwing nodded, his status as a diplomat making him more well-travelled.

“Yes the moor is a special kind of territory,” he agreed. “We rarely have troubles from the Galespun - especially since The Vendus Magpietail has taken over. The Gales seem content to keep to itself and focus on strengthening its legionaries.”

“So the Galespun are good?”

“As good as any faction can be - it all comes down to leaders and legionaries.”

That makes sense he supposed - the kingdoms were much the same way. While he considered the kingdoms to be a mostly peaceful and kind force, the founding of the New Kingdom of the Shining Sun spoke volumes about what can happen under one bad ruler. The smokes of reputation truly depended on what direction the kings and queens blew from. 

“...so if The Kirkyard is neutral territory, could we talk to cats we see down there?” Cardinalpaw asked.

Asterdawn swished her tail, “It depends on what they’re doing. You shouldn’t interrupt menders or diplomats when they’re speaking - for all you know, they’re trading important herbs or providing information that can dissolve any potential tension. But if you see another cadet hunting down there, there is no harm in making friends.”

“Friends?” Ravenpaw echoed. 

“In other factions?” Jackdawpaw added.

“So long as you remain loyal to the Stormborn, there is no rule against you having relations with cats from any faction - friendships, rivalries and even mates,” Larkwing told them. “What matters is that you remember that you may one day be fighting on opposite sides.”

“I myself consider Stormdrift a friend,” Asterdawn offered, earning a shocked expression from all three cadets. She laughed at the looks on their faces, turning to begin leading them back to the barracks. “I know. But we’ve been friends for a long time - we are both quite good at separating our friendship from our faction issues.”

“If you can manage this skill, feel free to associate with whoever you like,” Larkwing aid before looking to his cadet, adding. “As a diplomat Ravenpaw, your view of borders and boundaries will be different from your factionmates. As diplomats are to be above faction rivalries, it’s encouraged that you make friends in other factions.”

Ravenpaw adopted a slightly nervous expression.

“You can start with the other diplomat cadets,” Larkwing soothed, his tail brushing over the lanky cadet’s back when he noticed. “I’m not going to make you talk to cats that make you uncomfortable.”

“Thanks Larkwing,” Ravenpaw said shyly, and received a gentle nuzzle for it. Cardinalpaw turned away, allowing them to have a semblance of privacy; instead focusing on the journey back to the barracks.

His pads were grateful that the border patrol was being gentler on his paws, although the initial patrol that brought him back hadn’t sprinted the entire way back, he was still fairly sore from so much action without him even stretching first. Asterdawn, Lionbelly and Larkwing were taking their time; padding a bit slower than they needed to, ensuring that the cadets were all keeping up. His eyes followed the trodden paths and crushed grass and twigs saying that cats followed these trails all the time, half-hidden away in the brambles and bushes entangling vines.

It was a little past sunhigh when they finally made it back, time passing rapidly in the face of attempting to patrol the entire out-boundary of their territory. Cardinalpaw was relieved that they wouldn’t be patrolling the back-half of the territory as well, where the Stormborn brushed against the Rogue Lands. Jackdawpaw darted ahead of them when the gorse barrier came into sight, two cats crouched out of direct line-of-sight on either side of the entrance as guards.

Were they there when I came yesterday? He wondered curiously. He’d been too distracted to try sniffing around for guards and he hadn’t noticed any other guards as he was being brought out on the dawn patrol either. He made a mental note to ask his fellow cadets about the matter when he had a chance, slipping through the gorse tunnel with a bit more skill than he had that morning albeit; still combing part of his coat through the thorns.

Hopefully he would get better about not losing any fur to the tunnel.

As he emerged, Cardinalpaw watched Jackdawpaw sprint right for the pile of prey he’d noticed to begin with; giggling to himself as the tom promptly scooped up a robin for himself. Ravenpaw wove around him, plucking a pair of small mice.

“It’s already late in the day,” Asterdawn remarked, coming up alongside Cardinalpaw as the other cadets came back. “Head to the elder’s den for a lecture and take your prey with you. Since you’ve had such a busy day, you’re dismissed when it’s over.”

“Yes Asterdawn,” Ravenpaw chirped, around the tails of his mice.

The ruddy tom padded towards the ukennva, ducking his head and choosing a small rabbit. It was decent in size though he was certain that at least half of it was fur - he didn’t mind, with hunger clawing at his stomach he was certain that he could eat half of a sheep all on his own. His prey picked out, he turned to Jackdawpaw who then proudly began to march them through the barracks towards the fallen tree. It was stripped of its bark, the branches that remained on it were tangled in the barrier that guarded the faction, making him tilt his head at the ingenuity.

The gray tom brought them through the slight opening near the trunks, the smooth; slightly mossy stones creating a hidden trail into a firm; packed-earth den. Cardinalpaw’s nose twitched while his eyes readjusted to the light, a series of nests scattered in the back of the den with older cats speaking softly as the cadets got settled. Cardinalpaw placed his rabbit down, settling in a spot between Ravenpaw and Jackdawpaw. He didn’t hesitate to begin fiercely grooming his legs and paws, chewing away any debris that had tried to bake itself into his fur; rasping his tongue away at the mud and dirt. He felt himself be bumped a couple of times by Ravenpaw and Jackdawpaw as they too attended the task of clearing themselves of mud before they needed to pay any attention.

Cardinalpaw had gotten through both of his front paws, capable of seeing the cream-colored socks of his paws and was twisting to attend to his hind-paws when two cats from the elder’s group made their way towards them - one a broad shoulder calico molly with sharp, intimidating yellow eyes and the other a large, patchy furred brown tom with a shortened tail.

“Hello cadets,” greeted the calico lightly.

“Hi Dappledfawn,” Ravenpaw said shyly. “Asterdawn sent us for lectures.”

“It’s pretty late, so a long story wouldn’t be ideal,” Dappledfawn mused aloud, her tail twitching in her thought. She kneaded the ground a little bit, her eyes flitting over Cardinalpaw attempting to be discreet while he cleaned his hind-paws. “...we do need to get Cardinalpaw caught up on the common faction legends and stories.”

“How about Fleetfoot,” suggested the brown tom. “Her story isn’t long.”

“I like hearing about Fleetfloot!” Jackdawpaw said eagerly, his fur bushing out with excitement. “She’s awesome!”

“Fleetfoot it is then. Would you like to start the story Sparrowtail?”

“Of course.”

So Cardinalpaw settled down, finishing off cleaning his paws and transferring to begin plucking the thick puff of fur from his rabbit as he listened to the story of Siyeyim - The Planner. She was a proud and courageous legionary of the Ancient Shorerisen with heart and bravery enough to rival even Ancient Stormborn in bullheaded stubbornness. He listened with fascination about her determination to track down the dangerous, bear-sized boar by the name of Rage who was slaughtering and trampling all who came across him. She laughed off the danger of the boar when Ancient Stormborn leader Goldenmane confessed the violent beast was the cause of two young cadets and a new queen - Goldenmane, angered by the lack of compassion and respect shown for the dead; challenged her to kill the beast herself.

Her arrogance didn’t just upset Goldenmane however, her prideful boast saw her own leader - Flickerpool - forbidding her to request help from her factionmates and Ancient Fennyield Skua Shadefang vowed that none of the Fennyield would offer aid either. Fleetfoot continued to hold her head up though still confident in her skills - until she came across the monstrous boar himself and realized that she may have overstated her abilities. 

Cardinalpaw was enraptured as Fleetfoot’s struggle at the hooves of the boar saw the Shorerisen legionary being forced to abandon her idea of attacking the beast head-on, eventually giving in and instead worked towards creating a decent plan. He ooh’ed as she discovered she was actually a very good planner, remembering all the plots and tricks she’d played as a cadet and how they came in use now. He gasped when she was blindsided after successfully killing Rage, she violently blindsided the boar’s bigger, meaner more aggressive mate Fury who was now seeking revenge.

He nearly forgot to eat he was so wrapped up in her battle, growing more and more tired as she spent three days and three nights being forced to run at a moment’s notice; bounding away and taking off whenever the boar would discover her latest place to rest. She found herself regretting her behavior and what she said during the Games, wondering to herself how the Stormborn could rest knowing two horrid beasts roamed their woods. It was in this humility that Slysoul would extend a helping paw, whispering in her ear and helping her create the plot of a lifetime. They tricked the angered boar into attempting to cross the Crossing Stones, bounding down the center and watching as Fury’s hooves lost their grip on the stones; the slippery and wet stones ill-suited for sharp and harsh hooves.

Fury was swept away by the river, followed persistently by Fleetfoot to ensure that the beast drowned; her body washing ashore near the basins of the Shorerisen.

Fleetfoot entered the next Games after spending a moon on her own, fighting beasts of power covered in injuries and in much worse shape than when she’d left but critically in her mouth; she carried one of Fury’s tusks. Goldenmane was both delighted to know the threat to his faction was gone and ashamed he had not confessed the truth of Fury to the young legionary, giving up the river behind the Suncairn in return for the great favor. Fleetfoot for her part, humbly accepted the offer on behalf of Shorerisen and publicly apologized for her behavior and the terrible way she responded to the deaths of Brastilion Goldenmane’s factionmates.

“Fleetfoot learned a valuable lesson that moon - one that stuck with her for the rest of her life. And when she passed on, her deeds and learned lesson were enough to bring her whisker to whisker with Slysoul herself,” Dappledfawn told the eagerly listening cadets. “‘Stay with your kin in the stars,’ Slysoul said. ‘Or become a servant of mine and encourage the cats of the factions to always be as clever, determined and strategic as you were.’”

“But I leave my kin Fleetfoot has asked her,” Sparrowtail chimed in. “And Slysoul replied, ‘Never for long little one - for the Shorerisen will immortalize your deeds and the Stars will have a place for you.’”

“Now Siyeyim is felt as the burst of pride in your chest and the feeling of assurance when you defend your faction from harm,” Dappledfawn concluded. “And that is how the Shorerisen gained the land behind the river - unchallenged even to this day. It’s said that cats of ancient spots are watched by Fleetfoot herself, seeing if any are as worthy as she was.”

Jackdawpaw and Ravenpaw both paused, turning their heads to look at the rosetted dappling Cardinalpaw’s coat. The new cadet couldn’t help but feel the last remark was directed somewhat at him, his tail twitching with nerves as his denmates just stared. He ducked his head and started chewing away at his rabbit to distract himself.

“...like Leopardshine?” Jackdawpaw asked finally, removing the attention from Cardinalpaw. “She has those kinds of spots.”

“Yes,” said Dappledfawn, giving an approving nod. “She was named for her spots in the hopes that she would live up to Siyeyim’s legend.”

“Is that why Lionbelly is named that way?” Cardinalpaw asked curiously. “Is he living up to another great legionary’s history?”

“One of the early leaders of the Stormborn,” Sparrowtail confirmed, purring. “Brastilion Lionroar had a massive mane that guarded his throat from his enemies and was said to be a direct descendant of the first Storm, himself. Lionbelly was once Sunpaw but when his mane came in, he was appropriately renamed.”

“Well that’s all for today cadets,” said Dappledfawn, getting to her paws and stretching herself. “Run along now - it’s late and you’re sure to be tired.”

Cardinalpaw bid the elders a soft goodbye as he followed his denmates back into the clearing, leaving the remaining fluff from his rabbit to the elders. He spotted Sparrowtail happily claiming the fluff and carrying it back towards the other elders, immediately packing it into his nest before he slipped back out into the barracks. The elders had been right - the sun was only a bit from truly setting. The story hadn’t taken too long but Cardinalpaw was dead on his paws and ready to sleep. His opinion was mirrored by Jackdawpaw who yawned loudly, shaking himself fiercely.

“I don’t know about you guys but I’m exhausted,” the gray tom claimed.

“Me too,” Ravenpaw admitted, trudging towards the cadet’s den. He lowered his voice to keep the faction from hearing him as he added, “I still want to ask about being a prince but I’m too sleepy to ask good questions.”

“That’s fine,” said Cardinalpaw, catching Jackdawpaw’s yawn. “I’m too tired to give any good answers.”

The three cadets staggered into their den, slinking towards their nests with sore paws and tired bodies. Cardinalpaw snuggled deep into his nest, sighing happily as he relieved his paws from the burden of moving. His full belly combined with being up so early and staying awake with no nap made it feel like he was lugging around a satchel full of boulders, each yanking down on his shoulders and head. He was so exhausted, he almost didn’t make it though his prayer for his siblings’ safety before he has drifted off to sleep.

---

Kingdom Translations

Yekiyai | Thank you (informal)

Anuŕai akyeedaan | Hello/Greetings faction-born (pl.)

Ba hafaaŕasi | The Soul-Guided, the kingdom title for the factions

Efra | A formal address referring to those of royal status, of nobility

Siyuyuova ka-veshano | Farewell my prince (formal)

---

Empire Translations

Dohaaliyanva | Outsiders

Ba Dimm | The Eye, The Sun and Moon

| | |

Story Notes

So the first time I wrote this I managed to confuse the location of the neutral stretch?? How embarrassing lmao. Anyway the territory was swapped.

Sunningplace is capitalized because I decided that all factions have a place like that - Shorerisen and Stormborn's Sunningrocks conflict is merely the most well-known

Asterdawn's title isn't used among her factionmates to show a degree of closeness. In general, leader titles are used by those outside of the prides.

---

Allegiances | Previous | Next | First

[husbandohunter]

A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~

A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]

♤♡◇♧☆

Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti

(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.

=======================

[Diluc]

Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.

As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.

So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"

"Meow." He has alot to learn.

Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.

~xx~

[Kaeya]

If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.

Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.

There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).

Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.

~xx~

[Xiao]

If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.

Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.

As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3

"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."

You stay.

~xx~

[Albedo]

The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.

Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.

He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.

On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.

~xx~

[Zhongli]

Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).

How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.

"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."

Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.

~xx~

[Childe]

Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.

He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.

Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.

Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.

You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.

~xx~

[Venti]

Achoo!

You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.

Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.

"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"

No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.

[mrcleanheichou]

Wolves are (NOT) Scary Chapter 8

Pairing: Werewolf!BTS X Female human reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: None

Word count: 1,328

Summary: All Y/N wants to do is find her creativity and motivation but she finds 7 werewolves instead.

Author note: So here’s where the plot is finally gonna start picking up. My werewolves come in unnatural wolf coat colors because why not?

Taglist:  @dustyinkpages @thickemadame @moonlitehunter @thedarkwinterrose @momoriki @iistrangers @openup-yourmind @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @lovelyseokjinnie @scuzmunkie @bjoriis @maddypool31 @tfkp0p @blubearxy @stealth-liberal

 Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9

Present Day

It has been complete radio silence for the past week. You’ve tried calling all of your mates multiple times a day and not a single one have answered their phones. Now every time you try you get sent straight to voicemail, which, makes you think they’ve blocked both yours and Jungkook’s numbers. It makes absolutely no sense to you that they’re ignoring you both like this. Yes this was a messy situation but you thought your bond was stronger than this. How could they abandon you like this?

You’ve tried to go the bakery but Yuna refuses to let you leave. Ryujin ended up going to see if they were there after you pleaded with her to do it. She found that it had a sign that said ‘Closed for Renovations’. Which you know is a bullshit lie.

As the days passed you were growing more and more agitated meanwhile Jungkook completely closed in on himself. He could still feel all of the emotions through the mate bond and it was eating away at him. He was falling into a dark head space and he rarely spoke or ate. Ryujin tried many tactics to try to get any sort of emotion out of him, but it all failed. No matter how much she insulted him to get him angry or tried to cheer him up he just stared down blankly. His normally big bright expressive doe eyes were now empty and lifeless.

Yuna ordered him clothes from Amazon Prime and was able to get him to at least wear some comfortable sweats. The witch and her familiar have shown you nothing but kindness during this whole situation. You are forever in debt to them. Without their support you don’t know where you’d be right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today had again been full of failed attempts of getting a hold of anyone. You even started using Ryujin’s phone but that was quickly blocked too after you let a voicemail on Jin’s phone begging him to talk to you.

It was around 10 am when there was a knock on the shop door. Which was weird because no one ever knocked during business hours, they just entered. Ryujin who was laying with her belly up on the window sill in all her cat form’s glory was the only one able to hear it. She trotted down the of the stairs before transforming and opening the door. She instantly had a bad vibe from the three people standing on the porch. Her large cat ears pressed flat to her head and her tail swished in uneasiness. The smell of wolf rolled off of them in waves to the point it was starting to give her a headache.

In front of her stood a beautiful woman that looked to be in her late twenties to early thirties who gave off an authoritative vibe. She was wearing a white pantsuit with a blood red shirt under her blazer and black boots. Behind her stood two buff men that wore black suits, sunglasses and those radio ear pieces you always see secret service men wear.

“Why hello there kitty,” the woman said with an obvious fake smile. “Is your master home?”

“Who’s asking?” Yuna says gently pushing Ryujin away from the door.

The woman didn’t answer she just handed her a small envelope that she pulled out from a pocket on the inside of her blazer. All the color drained from Yuna’s face as she turned the black envelope over. There was a gold wax seal stamped with an image of a snarling wolf.

“You couldn’t possibly have thought we wouldn’t figure out your little secret someday.” The woman said mockingly. Yuna just stared at the seal while shaking from head to toe. Ryujin just gave her worried looks, not putting two and two together yet. “Don’t worry. I’m not here for you, I’m taking the the human and the kid.”

The two men behind the woman walked through the door and headed up stairs. They found you and Jungkook sitting at the dining table.

“W-who are you?” You asked surprised by the appearance of two scary looking men in the middle of Yuna’s kitchen. They looked like they walked out of the ‘Men in Black’ movie.

Neither of the men answered you as the one standing on the right pulled out a piece of paper that was folded and started to read it almost like a script.

“L/N Y/N and Jeon Jungkook,” the man stopped and looked at you to make sure you both were paying attention. You looked at Jungkook and noticed that he was finally not looking down. His attention was a hundred percent on the man. You could feel the anxiety rolling off of him in waves as if he knows something you don’t know. “By decree of the Royal pack of the Lunar Goddess, this is a summons to appear for an unmating trial.”

“A WHAT?!” You shout in disbelief, Jungkook just burst out sobbing. He knew what the men were here for the minute they walked in the kitchen.

“By request of Alpha Kim Namjoon, you are to stand trial in front of the congress of Alphas to see whether or not the removal of your mating marks and subsequent banishment from your current pack is warranted. Failure to appear will result in mandatory prison time.” The man finished reading giving you a sympathetic look.

“NO! NO! You’re lying! Namjoon wouldn’t do this! He loves us!” You started hyperventilating not fully understanding how Namjoon could actually go forward with kicking not only Jungkook out but you as well. You didn’t do anything!

“Obviously not.” The second man snickered earning a glare from his companion. “You can either come with us willingly or we drag you out.”

3 years ago

You didn’t notice how long you had been sitting and talking with Yuna and Ryujin. You checked your phone and saw it was 12 pm. “Oh wow, it’s already noon. I better head home.”

“Oh honey you can stay for lunch if you’d like. Ryujinnie is quite the chef.”

The mentioned girl looked bashful and muttered “I’m not that good.”

“Thank you so much for the offer but I really need to get going.”

“Aww that’s too bad,” Yuna pouted. She got up taking the teapot and mugs on a tray back into the shop.

You stood up gathering your things when you hear Ryujin shout “If you don’t have my cupcakes get out of here!”

Bewildered you look at her and then in then behind you. There was a tan almost blonde colored dog sitting at the bottom of the steps looking up at you. It had a black snout and black ears that flopped over at the very tip making it look a little goofy. It looked to be almost the same size that Tae was, Maybe a little bit bigger.

“Oh hi puppy,” You smile and move to go down the stairs and pet him.

“Don’t touch that mutt, he’s a stray.” The woman growled out. The dog turned his attention and raised his lip at her. That made you jump a little. “See what I mean?”

Almost immediately it lowered his ears whining at you and giving you ‘puppy dog eyes.’ You were still a little nervous so you just walked around it and headed down the street back to where you had parked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light flashed in front of the small shop and a very annoyed looking man stood where the dog had previously. “Why did you do that?”

“It’s not my fault you’re a rabid beast.” Taking her hat off and rubbing her poor ears that were sore from being pressed down. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be baking right now.”

The man turned turned around and was engulfed in another flash of light. The dog was back and he trotted to where he was supposed to be all morning.

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

songs about toxic people 7*

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

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*IMPORTANT NOTE: this is more like an interlude/bonus chapter actually centering more on misc bonten x reader Gen! interactions. it still ties in with the whole story, it’s just there’s less to zero sanzu in this one cus the focus will be more on the other bonten haha, so if you’re here exclusively for sanzu x reader, you may skip this if you like! 😬  

it’s just i got these headcanons that idk what to do with and also they are somewhat short 😭

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chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

chapter 7: We may not be a perfect family but we love each other (until we don’t) - koko

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Koko thinks of cats when he thinks of you; partly from the circumstances of your first meeting, partly ‘cause of the way you sort of simply glide in and out of rooms quietly with the stealth and fluidity of one.

(Although Sanzu had insisted he thought more of ghosts and wraiths, a comment which Koko only made light of even though he wasn’t wrong.)

She even kinda fights like a feline, he’d told Inupi one time all those years ago, as he thought of the way your lithe and minimal movements were always able to take bigger guys down along with the quiet ferocity to match.

Maybe she learns from all the cats back in the shrine, Inupi responded—a joke, essentially, in his own terms. Koko suppressed a smile: cat and dog, you and her, maybe that’s why you two get along so well went his own, sad attempt at humor, because you and your second-in-command were obviously very close and very unlike cats and dogs. The joke, however, sadly did not seem to land, and Inupi’s forehead only creased, his expression dumbfounded.

That’s not how it works.

Koko never forgets the day you were first introduced by Mikey. It’s at the back of Toman’s abandoned shrine, at the edge of the thick forest surrounding the area, that their new leader had said they’ll be meeting Black Dragon’s temporary captain. He never specified what anyone would be doing in the forest at this hour in the afternoon, and neither him nor Inupi had asked, but then there you were: in your bare feet and in your school uniform, attempting to move a big pot of plant from one spot of land to another, your expression almost annoyed. (At the pot, most likely, which did not seem to budge.)

Mikey called your attention still a few meters afar:

“Hey. Whatcha up to—”

in a tone that very clearly did not seem to intend to place whatever you were up to above this particular Toman business at the moment, so really, it would not have made any difference whether you answered or not. Which you didn’t, only glancing at your president once—not with the angry expression, at least—before continuing with your ordeal.

The pot nudged just a tiny bit.

Only when Mikey finally stopped right in front of you and you noticed Koko’s and Inupi’s figures behind him did you finally stand straight, looking at Mikey quizzically. “What’s up?” Quick nods to Inupi and him. “Hello.”

Mikey briefly introduced all of you and proceeded to explain that you were to be formally placed as the Black Dragon’s new captain today, to which your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh, I thought you said tomorrow.”

Mikey hesitated at first but then shrugged. “Hm, they came here already today so I thought might as well. Come on, it’ll be quick.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and then to his two quiet companions but then so agreed anyway, and as Mikey ushered you in front nobody else aside from Koko seemed to notice your lack of shoes. You’d only taken a few steps ahead when you tugged at the sleeve of Mikey’s coat, making him pause.

“I don’t have my Toman jacket,” which was obvious but was not what Koko was expecting for you to say, if he were to be honest.

Mikey looked at you blankly. “Well, where is it?”

“Well, something happened to it,” was your only vague response, but then you turned your head to where you just came from making all three boys follow suit. On a wooden bench slightly obscured by the plants were a family of cats consisting of a mother and her kittens, all sleeping peacefully in a cozy pile on top of your balled up Toman jacket.

“Oh. Okay.” Mikey only nodded like he completely understood. Without thinking about it twice, Sano Manjiro, Tokyo Manji gang’s No. 1—feared around the streets of Tokyo, bowed to no one and stepped over everyone—took off his billowing Toman coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, you can borrow mine,” he simply said. “I mean, you gotta look the part.”

Your mouth stretched into a grin.

Beside him, Inupi gave Koko a quick, wordless glance accompanied by that tiny, upward curve on the corner of his mouth that anyone else could’ve missed. Inupi rarely smiled at anything anymore those days—perhaps one of the reasons why this singular, initial meeting had stuck in his mind all these years. It’s one of those memories Koko always thought he could probably live without, occupying a quiet little corner in his mind which, frankly, a much more practical or life-changing memory could have occupied, if it were up to him. But then there you were with your cats and your air of schoolgirl abandon making Inupi smile, an information that he simply didn’t know what to do about.

“Alright, boss. But please, no speeches.”

This made Mikey laugh. “Can’t promise you that, I’m sorry.” It’s only after a few more steps that Mikey did finally notice your bare feet.

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

“Oh, they got wet,” you quietly said. “I was playing with the cats…” and three pairs of eyes stared at you like it wasn’t enough of an answer. “With a hose. Manjiro, I was watering the plants.”

And so you stood atop the shrine steps while addressing the men from Black Dragons, your feet bare and covered in scratches and the Toman president’s much bigger coat over your shoulders. Nobody questioned the absence of shoes—at least not out loud—not with your leader Manjiro right by your side, in his flip flops holding a half-eaten taiyaki in one hand.

The memory comes unannounced in snips and pieces some years later as another Bonten meeting ends. There’s various movements around the table by now, but then Koko catches your undivided staring as you sat across from him, your chin propped up against one hand. He ignores you for a short while as he fixes his things, until he finally decides to look up.

“Anything wrong?”

You suddenly purse your lips in a small smile amidst the gloomy and rigid air of mid-morning Monday meetings and for a moment, it’s as if Koko is thinking of another memory.

“I just realized you kinda look like my Mr. Kaku,” is all you say. The little remark makes not-your Kakucho look up from the document he’s reading without really turning his head, while Rindou who is seated beside you squints—in curiosity or amusement, Koko can’t tell. From his own right side, Takeomi is slowly angling his head as if meaning to take a better look at Koko behind his curtain of silver hair.

Mr. Kaku, of course, is your pet cat, the one with the smooth silver fur that you’d rescued from an abandoned site during an out-of-town business trip some months ago. You and your unimaginative pet naming sense landed on “Mr. Kaku,” in honor of your then-partner Kakucho who had volunteered to keep the cat inside his bag thru the doors of the hotel that didn’t allow pets. But he looks nothing like Kaku, Manjiro had quipped, earning a few grunts of approval from your ever-biased circle, but you couldn’t have been bothered so you stuck with the name.

Koko is quick to decipher that in your-speak, cat comparisons are more or less compliments and never a form of insult—not that in your mid-20s, you all haven’t already gotten above petty verbal affronts, after all. So he humors you, eyes now back to his things but with his attention still on the matter at hand. “What, is it the hair?”

“Yeah, it’s the hair,” Rindou says before you can answer, his head lolling lazily on one shoulder. “Can’t believe no one had noticed before.”

“And the eyes,” you simply nod. “They both got these nice, sharp eyes.”

Would you have named him Mr. Koko if you thought he resembled Kokonoi before? is the one lingering question that none of the men around you bother to ask.

It’s only a couple of weeks later, after another Bonten meeting, when Koko hands you a souvenir from his weekend business trip: a red cat collar with a customized pendant, a tiny enamel engraving of your Bonten tattoo. The pendant is black on one side and gold on the other, and the small gasp you let out makes every head in the room turn—the almost unfamiliar, genuine sound of delight thawing the usual morning’s stern atmosphere.

“There’s a shop right across the hotel where they make rush engravings like that.” Koko is saying casually like it’s no big deal, but he sees the expression on your face and he can’t help but grin. “Thought Mr. Kaku might like it.”

Your eyes perk up at the mention of ‘Mr. Kaku’ like Koko is the first person to ever acknowledge that Mr. Kaku doesn’t need to be named anything else apart from ‘Mr. Kaku.’ “Oh, it’s perfect, Koko. I’ll send you pictures once I make him wear it,” you say, your attention instantly back to your hands, choosing to ignore his ‘I think just one picture might be enough.’

From the other end of the room, Sanzu is making his way towards the door. “Congratulations,” he smirks as he passes by behind you, quirking one eyebrow up at Koko. “Now she won’t be shutting up about it all weekend,” because Sanzu will be spending the next three days with you over in another city to conduct business with another drug scion, of course.

Across the table, Kakucho only sighs before shaking his head. “I still wish you could’ve picked a better name for your cat,” he says—a valid complaint, Koko thinks bemusedly, now that your own Mr. Kaku looks more like a feline version of himself.

chapter 8 >

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this one goes out to my closest friends the ones who make me feel less alien

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[aceofspadegrass]

do you have any headcanons for chishiya as a child? angsty, cute, anything works ☺️

Oh? Okay, let me just ramble a few off the top of my head then.

- Childshiya was the kid that never really spoke up at school, not because he was shy, but more like he didn't feel like gathering the energy to interact more than he considered necessary. Still didn't stop the other kids from noticing he was the smart kid and trying to group with him during group projects. Kids probably never bothered him because he never reacted to a lot of things and even if a few did try to be his friend they likely didn't remain that way for long as most kids wanted a mutual sort of companionship.

Childshiya didn't mind, but it still didn't help his perpetual lonely state.

- He actually has a fond interest in art that are deemed mysterious and thought provoking (Like the Mona Lisa) and when he could, he tried his best to read as much about it as his little mind could process. When he was brought to art museums he always managed to disappear from his parents (or maybe even teachers if it was a field trip) to stare at paintings for as long as he was allowed to and go on mental thought tangents before inevitably reappearing by his parents/teacher as if he never left. If other adults asked if he was lost he'd just shake his head and continue with his art stare.

(I like to think as he got older he knew a lot of art history for a med student, and he only attributes it to his cleverness. He could tell the exact date, medium, artist, and name of famous arts off the top of his head as if it were simple knowledge.)

- Continuing on that previous point, Childshiya did a little bit of art on his off time, and he's actually not that terrible at it. To be fair, doctors have to have a steady hand, and so do artists, so Childshiya doodling on his off time to practice a steady hand isn't that impossible to think about. He wouldn't call anything he does good enough for anyone to really see, but it's not just stick drawings and shapes.

I like to think that's why he chose instead of signing notes with his name or initial where it could track to him immediately by name, he instead draws a cat every single time because that is also his signature. Just a simple cat. :3

- Imagine Childshiya, in an attempt to get his father's attention, tried to inflict self medical issues on himself. He's smart, but he's still a child, and sometimes that can translates to the child trying to do what they think will get results through child logic.

Cut to Childshiya being carried into the ER by his father because he 'tripped' and broke his toe. It sort of worked at least, his father did pay attention to him for once. It led to a lecture of being more careful walking and that 'He was smarter than that', but it was worth it.

- Childshiya had one of those small water fountains in his room as decoration, and sometimes he'd put water in, turn it on, and just sit there at his desk watching the water go through blankly. Sometimes he'd place a really tiny foam duck that he got from some machine at the top and mindlessly watch it float to the bottom basin. It was as much entertainment as he could get, even if it was repetitive.

- I also like to think Childshiya owning a children's doctor kit, also as a form of entertainment and he'd busy himself with playing doctor on random things like his bedroom door, a chair, and even his face. The entire time he's got a blank face and is muttering random doctor words that he's read. Apparently his knee had polio according to his plastic otoscope.

He's just doing this with such a serious expression, and pretty much his only way of connecting with his father. Festive. :)

- Childshiya was once handed a hoodie several sizes too big for him during a sudden rainstorm so he didn't get cold and he looked like a floating jacket with feet and nothing else. Just imagine a child with a hoodie, the hood draped over his head where it flops in front of his eyes and the sleeve flop over his hands so he couldn't use them unless he went tortoise mode peeked them out or rolled up the sleeves, and the bottom hung down to about his knee.

Now imagine that flopping through the outside, no cute singing or dancing in the rain, merely chugging along in this hoodie. He somehow found that experience comfortable.

- He was the type of kid to wander off immediately if no one kept a close eye on him because something else caught his interest, but at least wouldn't move anywhere else once he's settled. He wasn't horrible at directions so as long as they kept in the same area he'd eventually find his way back.

- Childshiya soaked in as much knowledge as he could when it was thrown at him or something he picked up offhandedly. Does he tell anyone about said facts? Oh absolutely not. He just has these little tidbits of knowledge that he kept to himself. He even writes them down if they're particularly interesting.

- He stole a baby lemon tree once.

- Childshiya was one of the only kids willing to do all of dissection day, and it only helped in his future as a med student. The other kids thought he was brave for doing it, or weird because he seemed so unaffected.

- Childshiya made sort of friends with local cats in his area, and was semi-friendly to each and every single one that was willing to approach him for pets. It was an absolute vibe.

And of course, the funniest one of all:

- No matter how much strawberry milk this baby bitch drank he still wasn't getting any taller. :)

[in3ptbean]

𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒃𝒊𝒆

Steve Harrington (DBD)  x Reader 

Summary: You are there to help Steve understand the Entities realm.

Check these out 

Masterlist  

Prompt List  

Warnings: Blood, death, the works 

(Not My GIF) 

The Entity dragging a pour soul into it’s game of cat and mice had become a regular thing. You’ve been around long enough to become unfazed by it; giving nothing more than an apathetic smile and light clap to the back to keep them on their toes.  

You awoke in the laboratory under an ominous mist. An unfamiliar roar echoed through the once white walls, your step momentarily faltering before you climbed up the steps of the laboratory.  Gagging at the sight of the mutilated scientist, you kicked him body off to the side slightly before walking into the small closet like space. 

“New place,” you muttered, kneeling before the generator, “Same fucking thing,”. You worked quickly and efficiently, known amongst the survivors as one of the most diligent and unhinged survivors the realm had to offer.  Another roar reached your ears, soon accompanied by the rhythmic thudding of your heart. You let go of the wires, smiling at yourself when it didn’t short-circuit, and glanced outside of the doorway.  

A tall brunette  clad in green nearly jumped when he saw you, a harsh intake of air causing him to choke slightly. You stepped out of the room, ushering him inside when you saw the red stain. 

The newest killer stood at the top of the steps, staring down at you with it’s lack of eyes. You’re heart was thudding against your chest, yet you made no move. You glanced at the brunette, noticing the puddle of blood underneath him before looking back at the monster. 

It roared the moment you took a step towards the doorway to  your right, \lunging as you the moment you booked it.  “Work on that fucking generator!” You said, glancing back at the boy before getting the killers attention once more. You hopped down the large hole in the floor, landing with a grunt before running down the hall towards a very promising room. The floor shook with each unwavering step it took, and a sudden heaviness caused you to glance back. It was practically on top of you, slobbering as it swung it’s claws towards your back. You grunted, nearly falling over due to the impact, but jumped over the railing an attempt to put some space between you and the killer. 

Turning left, you ran into Feng Min, who stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes widened when her hand wrapped around your own, and pulled you back. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You asked, the terror radius growing with every passing second. “Let me go you fucking dunce!” You threw you elbow back, harshly shoving her right onto the ground; right in front of the killer. You knew you would never hear the end of this; Feng would make sure of it. You sprinted passed the alien-looking creature, leaving Feng behind, and jogged  towards the upstairs in search of the newbie. 

The generator was near completion when Steve felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He jumped, whipping around as the generator blew up. Nancy gave him a thin smile before a pounding headache caused him to wince. A scream rang out, forcing Steve to turn back to the hunk of machinery after heeding your parting words. 

“I’m going to go help her!” Nancy said awkwardly before  going down the same hole you had fallen through a few minutes prior.  “Be care-” She was gone before he could even express his worry. “-ful.” 

“Hey Jockstrap,” He popped the generator, a low groan leaving his lips as pressed his hand to his bleeding side. Looking up just as you tossed him a med kit, he raised a hand in greeting.  “Start wrapping yourself up,” You continued, giving the boy an apathetic smile before glancing around. New realms were always tied to the newest survivor in some way shape or form.  “Thanks,” Steve groaned out, sitting against the wall, before popping open the med kit. 

“Sit up,” He looked at you questioningly. “Like a lunge. Increases you chances of getting away faster,” He looked at your stance before copying it, and continuing his self-heal. 

“I’m Steve,” He said after thanking you for the med kit. “not to be rude or anything, but how the hell did you get here?” You didn’t question his confusion, giving him a mere shrug before leading him towards the lower level. 

Question after question after question; that’s all this kid was full of. After explaining the realm and the Entity to him, Steve was in immediate denial. 

“Why can’t we fight back?” He asked, connecting the two live wires exposed on the midriff of the generator. “I’ve done it before,” He quickly assured. You rolled your eyes at the Indiana teen. 

“I’m sure you have, Harrington,” You mused, grinning at him as you worked on  a generator with Steve right at your side. “But if you have a problem with your current situation, you can take it up with HR,” He looked at you blankly before a grin rose to his lips; oblivious to the looming shadow growing from the portal on the ground behind him. 

It was in the midst of the your adrenaline burst, and the subtle nagging in the back of your mind that you shoved Steve to the floor.  The Demogorgon roared, overwhelming your pain-stricken scream. 

It was in the midst of your throbbing side and the rapid, unrhythmic thudding of your heart beating against your chest that Steve had grabbed your arm and was pulling you down the hall. 

Glancing back, you noticed the Demogorgon's hunched over crouch. 

“Sprawl!” You cried out, stopping Steve. 

“What?!” 

“Sprawl!” You let yourself fall to the floor,  pulling Steve with out as the Demogorgon flew over your heads. You scrambled up, glancing down at Steve’s balled up form before dragging him up and hauling ass  away from the stunned killer.  You knew Steve and yourself could hold off the killer for a while; after all, there were only two generators left. You just hoped that Nancy and Feng could pop them before one of you went down... 

Needless to say, the trial did not go to plan. 

The moment the rusty hook penetrated your should, you wanted to be consumed by the Entity.  Across the laboratory, Feng was crouched, not moving an inch. Nancy was running around in search of something, and Steve was sloppily working on a generator near the basement. 

You didn’t struggle, rather letting the Entity’s gangly tendrils impale your body; allowing your body to succumb to the rather pleasant void of nothing and silence.  

You awoke on the camp grounds, next to David and Kate. Oblivious to the rather heated glare  coming from the young Asian teen, you sat up, hand naturally falling to your side.

“How did it go?” Claudette asked, handing you a damp cloth for your hands. 

“You tell me,” You joked, smiling at the pink clad woman,  who merely shook her head, stifling a laugh. Glancing around, you noticed Steve sprawled out on the floor at your feet, unconscious and mumbling incoherently about ‘the lights’ and ‘flicking them on and off’. 

“You’re a bitch,” Feng hissed, bringing upon a silence over the camp. You simply cocked an eyebrow,  merely dismissing Feng’s comment until she brought up todays trial. “You literally pushed me into the killer-” 

“You were fine! Stop bitching around so much. You’re alive aren’t you?!” You interrupted her, now pushing yourself off of the log to stand, practically towering over the gamer. She scoffed, averting her gaze from your burning stare. 

“Just don’t be a dick,” She muttered. You rolled you’re eyes, the sudden caws of a crow getting your attention. It flew quickly, followed by three more omens. With a quick  swoop, it perched itself upon your shoulder. 

Another  landed by Felix, Cheryl and Steve. 

“Good luck,” Feng sneered. You rolled your eyes once more before taking your foot and nudging Steve’s head of hair.  His eyes snapped open, widening at the sight of you’re still alive form. 

“What the hell? I thought you were dead-” 

“So did it,” You feigned, helping him up. “Let’s go,” 

He groaned, glancing round the camp fire before jogging slightly to catch up with the trio now walking into the thick  wild surround the camp; unaware of the danger that waited in the trial ahead. 

[delimeful]

breathing cleaner air (2)

warnings: miscommunication, slight body horror, arguing

-

Roman woke up, which was a surprise in itself.

He was sprawled over a wooden floor, covered in what seemed to be a significant amount of unbound hay. His body ached severely, and he spent a moment waiting for his brain to register how horrifically itchy he must be under all this straw.

A beat later, he recalled that his sense of touch had grown muted and strange as soon as his skin vanished behind a layer of bone and keratin. Not itchy after all, then.

Whatever he was laying on, it was moving, slowly but steadily, and he couldn’t seem to make his body move more than an inch. He couldn’t even lift his head to see over the short back barrier of the space.

A twinge of pain, and then he was blinking rapidly as a new source of vision opened up, creating a dizzying overlay effect. He closed his eyes, and found that the new sightline was all that remained, showing him sprawling fields and a dirt road slowly inching past.

It was an eye, popping up on his shoulder armor as though that was a reasonable place for an eye to appear. He shuddered, revulsed, and it sunk away into nothing with a sharp spike of pain, leaving him with only the pair of eyes on his face.

Roman took a deep breath, trying to remain composed. His body had been malformed, and his best friend had attacked him, and now he was here, unharmed but for his immobility and the strange quirks of this new form. Surely Logan wouldn’t dispose of a corpse without first checking that it was actually deceased?

He had to be sprawled in the back of a covered wagon of some sort, the slow rhythmic motion of the vehicle thankfully not enough to jar any of his newly-obtained wings. If he’d been an actual seraph, he would have plenty of motivation to murder the farmer hired to move its ‘corpse’. Logan would never be so sloppy as to risk civilians like that.

So then, how had he gotten to this point?

He chewed on the question as time passed, mentally going around in circles until the wagon ground to a stop.

Footsteps circled the body of the vehicle, and stopped. Roman resisted the urge to try and make another eye to look through.

A surge of magic later, his body felt suddenly lighter, and he jolted upright into a sitting position, head turning to the back of the wagon.

Logan stood there, his staff held in a defensive block position. “Hello there.”

Roman made to indignantly ask what he was playing at, but all that came from him was a fierce shrieking whistle, not from his mouth but from his throat, where there were irregular gaps in the armor covering.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re confused,” Logan continued, still on guard. “I’m pleased to inform you that though I don’t yet have a solution to your ailment, I have no plans to kill you.”

A wave of relief washed over Roman, and he preened slightly, so immensely grateful that his best friend was a genius. How he’d figured it out, Roman had no idea, but clearly, he’d known from the moment Roman had stumbled past the treeline.

He leaned forward, intending on some kind of friendly contact, and Logan took a step back, his staff smoothly moving to point out in threat.

“No closer, please,” he instructed firmly. “I can’t understand you or your intentions at the moment. You’ll have to wait until we reach the others so they can translate.”

Roman drooped, wings drawing in around him as though he’d received a physical blow. The guarded look in those eyes, the stiff lines of his body-- Logan hadn’t looked so wary around Roman since he’d still thought him a snobby prince with a hatred of all things magical.

“It’s nothing personal, I assure you,” Logan offered, awkward the way he only way around strangers.

Roman sat back heavily, the shifted weight of his new form making the wagon shake slightly. Logan had secreted him away without knowing his true identity. He was taking a ‘defeated’ seraph somewhere in secret. He’d mentioned others. Other seraphim.

Logan had been on the field much longer than him, but they’d fought side-by-side together whenever Roman could shake his duties. How many monsters had Logan been preserving right under his nose?

Logan scythed his weapon through the air without hesitation, easily settling another heavy sedation spell on him. Belatedly, he realized that a low, threatening growl-- a sound like the deepest timbre on a pipe organ-- had bubbled up from his chest.

Good, he thought furiously as he settled back into a hazy unconsciousness. Why shouldn’t he be angry? In every sense of the word, he’d been betrayed.

-

When he next woke, the wagon had once again stopped and his body ached a little less. Soon, there were warm hands carefully supporting him from either side, lifting him from the pile of hay and settling him on soft fabric.

Voices spoke in soft murmurs. Roman struggled to tune in, focus wavering under the lingering exhaustion of the spell.

“--round, could I speak with him?”

“No, not today. He’s been awake for a while, you know how he gets about missions like this. I could pass along your message?”

“... It was a long shot anyways. I’ll be back in a week’s time, hopefully with better news.”

“You’ll find him, Logan, I just know it. But you have to take care of yourself, too. Won’t you stay, just for---”

A blink, and the light had changed, from the dimness of dusk to early morning sun.

Finally free of magical interference, he pushed himself to his feet with only the slightest of swaying, intent on figuring out what was going on and giving Logan a piece of his mind. Possibly in that order.

He was in a spacious but mostly-empty room, a soft arrangement of thick blankets and half-shredded pillows strewn about where he’d formerly slept. The single door was unlocked and opened into a hallway that was too short for him to walk through without crouching.

Feeling slightly foolish and mostly determined, he shuffled along the hall, searching for answers but finding none that made any sense. He didn’t recognize anything about the interior of the building, other than how it looked, for all intents and purposes, like a cozy, lived-in home.

There were framed photos lining the walls, candid pictures of many or just a few people smiling and talking together. Before Roman could inspect them too closely, a clatter from nearby caught his attention.

He turned into a small kitchen, where a short man with brown skin and dark curls appeared to be cleaning up a spill as something on the stove began to smolder. He didn’t seem to have any wings.

Befuddled by the mundane sight, a confused, croaky chirrup made its way from his throat, drawing the attention of the stranger. He braced himself automatically, his wings bristling slightly on automatic, but the stranger only smiled sympathetically.

“Hey there, kiddo!” Placing the washcloth he’d been mopping with aside, he dusted his hands off on his battered apron. “Good to see you awake! Did Logan-- that’s the guy who brought you here, did he tell you anything on the way?”

Roman stared at him blankly. The stranger-who-apparently-knew-Logan shook his head in amused resignation. “Well then, I suppose introductions are in order! You can call me Patton, this is my home! You’re welcome to stay for as long as you want, and you can come talk to me if you need help with anything!”

"You’re taking in monsters like stray cats?" Roman attempted and completely failed to ask, the words coming out as hollow but incredulous discordant notes.

“Yeah, I suppose I can’t really talk to you just yet,” Patton replied, proving his own point by misinterpreting Roman’s noises entirely. “But no worries, we’ve got other seraphs who can translate! My friend is waiting out in the barn to answer any questions you’ve got, and then once I finish up breakfast, you’re welcome to join us!”

Even without the charcoal mess that had used to resemble eggs currently smoking on the stove, there was no way he was just going to sit down and eat breakfast with monsters and monster sympathizers. He huffed, an airy whistling sound, and ignored Patton’s friendly smile as the man gestured helpfully to the open back door.

He would find Patton’s ‘friend’, question them to find out where this place was relative to his kingdom, and then leave promptly. From there, he’d… he’d figure something out. Hunt down the one who did this to him, maybe, and get some answers.

Decided, he stalked out the door, and managed to get three steps into the yard before pulling up short.

The acres of farmland stretched out to freshly-plowed fields, and more than a few chickens wandered about, but most notably, the main yard seemed to be dotted with winged children.

A variety of different shapes and ages, he could spot them in little groups, playing games or chattering or even roughhousing like weaned puppies. He spotted a pair wrestling, and nearly stepped forward in alarm at the sight of sudden shifting limbs and feathers.

To his surprise, even with one in a more inhuman state, they continued to playfully tumble without a single scratch, no sign of the sharpness that lined Roman’s entire form.

He could feel curious eyes on him as he beelined for the barn, trying to keep a level head. He shouldn’t have been so shocked by the sight. If there were seraphim adults, of course there would be seraphim children. He just hadn’t expected them to look so… human. He’d had no idea that they could even develop human guises so early in life.

The barn was a humble thing, the red paint worn, but the door hinges barely whispered when he pushed the door open. Inside, there weren’t any animals, but rather, tightly-packed cots and scattered piles of stored supplies. A few kids scurried past, while a deeper voice slowly counted down. An adult figure was sprawled over one of the ceiling rafters, face pressed into the crook of their arm, a pair of wings hanging down loosely around them. The early morning light cast them in silhouette.

Roman attempted to clear his throat, which didn’t work even a little bit and in fact produced a horrific squelching sound. The adult’s wings jerked slightly, but they didn’t look up.

“Seventeen. Sixteen. Hey, newcomer. Welcome to Sanctuary. Patton gave you the spiel? Twelve. Eleven. Ten.”

With an array of hushed giggles, the kids secreted themselves away, some abandoning the barn entirely. They were… playing hide-and-seek?

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. More importantly, why did this stranger’s voice seem familiar? Roman stepped forward, drawing his wings in to avoid clipping any nearby hiding spots.

“Two. One. Better have hid well,” they finished, pushing themself up and then swinging over the edge of the rafter. They dropped to the floor soundlessly, looking him over with mismatched eyes. “I’m Virgil.”

Roman felt his whole body bristle up with shock, and then fury.

‘You!’ he screeched, pointing aggressively at the guy who had single-handedly ruined his life.

‘Virgil’ eyed him speculatively for a moment, and then recognition lit his gaze.

“Oh. It’s you. Thought you died.”

In the corner of his vision, Roman could see the way his wings had fluffed up to twice their previous size, sharp-edged and rattling. A low, resonant hum filled the air around him, a poor placeholder for the accusations he’d like to hurl at the seraph.

Virgil only raised an eyebrow, looking much less harried than he had during their last encounter. Roman sorely missed having a sword to point threateningly, and also fingers that weren’t half-fused together.

“Might as well sort this out now.” He raised his voice, an edge of something other slipping into it as he projected. “Olly olly oxen free, you little menaces. It’s time for the adults to talk.”

There was rustling as those hiding in the barn crawled and hopped out of hiding spaces, a murmur of complaint that died as soon as they looked at Roman. He wanted to call the gazes invasive, the silence eerie, but it was hard to be truly suspicious of children who looked so hunted.

“Scram, fledgelings,” Virgil instructed dryly, shaking his core wings out.

As though breaking a spell, the kids scattered, some slipping past him to the front doors, others vanishing out of sight in hidden corners. Backdoors, secret exits. It seemed these people were well-prepared for an invasion.

An older kid lingered, dark hair and light grey wings ruffled up as they glanced between the two of them. The kid didn’t say anything, but the concern on their face was plain to see.

“Relax, Ellie,” Virgil said, bumping their wings together gently. “I can handle myself. Go make sure Patton isn’t burning the kitchen down?”

The kid-- Ellie?-- nodded slowly, casting one last unreadable look at Roman before departing and leaving them be.

Virgil stretched, arms over his head, and then between one motion and the next, his body spilled, stretching out into feathers and bone like it was nothing.

His outer wings were narrower, longer, and they stabbed into the ground where Roman’s curled around himself. He had no mask of bone covering his words, but the lower half of his face seemed to be solely composed of jagged, interlocking teeth, and pedipalps like those of a spider rested on the underside of his jaw. Roman couldn’t seem to count just how many eyes he had without his head beginning to ache.

“So,” a mental voice spoke, overlaying his own thoughts. “You survived after all.”

The resulting startled chirp that burst from Roman was nothing short of humiliating, but honestly, how often did one suddenly have to interact with telepathy! After a moment of scrambling, he gamely shot back a vitriolic assortment of unkind names.

“All I’m getting is static, buddy. Ease up on the mental clutter.” The seraph tilted his head, the small pair of wings atop his head fluttering mockingly. “Try not being so bad at this.”

Roman scowled with what little facial muscles he could still move, and took a rattling breath before ‘speaking’ again, forming the thought as clearly as possible. “Change me back.”

“Can’t.”

“What?!” Roman projected, trilling in alarm for emphasis.

Virgil yawned widely, displaying a throat that was, perhaps unsurprisingly, also full of teeth. “You heard me. Can’t do it.”

“You can turn people into monsters, but not change them back?”

“Oh, you had ‘monstrous’ down fine already.” Virgil was staring at him with several of those uncanny eyes, a challenge in his gaze. “This is an improvement, really.”

Roman stepped forward and loomed over the seraph, burning with anger. His wings began to flare fully open, feeling sharper than ever. “If you won’t tell me how to fix this, I’ll figure out a way to convince someone here to.”

All of Virgil’s eyes abruptly narrowed.

“Oh yeah?” Virgil’s wings dug deeper into the dirt floor as he lifted himself right off the ground to be just slightly taller than Roman, their faces only inches apart. “And just who do you think is around for you to extract info from? You gonna interrogate a bunch of 10 year olds? Pick a fight with a toddler, maybe?”

“No! I mean-- Well,” Roman faltered, thinking about the number of children he’d seen just in the past half-hour. “You can’t be the only one-- how are there only kids here?”

Virgil’s head tilted slightly, as though Roman’s answer wasn’t quite what he’d expected. “Patton’s here too.”

“But he’s just a guy!” Roman gestured widely for emphasis. “Even if these kids didn’t have the ability to shapeshift into prickly pint-sized poltergeists, there’s way too many of them for one person to look after properly!”

“Two people,” Virgil corrected, leaning back. “And these kids are more self-sufficient than you think.”

He stared at Roman for a moment longer before smirking in a way that made Roman immediately and irrevocably suspicious. “Listen, Knight, since you’re so eager to get in a brawl, I’ll make you a deal. If you can beat me in a fight, I’ll tell you all about what I did to you.”

“Deal,” Roman agreed, as quickly as possible. He shifted into his starting hand-to-hand stance, though his changed form made it feel sort of unbalanced. “Let’s go, you and me.”

Virgil stepped forward, sliding back into his false human form as he strode right towards Roman. Roman hesitated, his arms still up in a guard position, and between one moment and the next, Virgil had slipped right past him. He made an indignant sound that came out grating, like metal-on-metal.

Virgil turned to glance at him as he reached the barn door. His lips twitched as though barely concealing laughter. “What, you thought I meant right now? No, we’ll fight on my time. And right now, it’s time for dinner. I can tell you all about the rest of the terms that you didn’t wait to hear before agreeing to our deal.”

Roman stared in disbelief as the seraph turned and strolled out, leading the way back to the main house.

Just what exactly had he gotten himself into?

[jpat82]

The Encounter: pt 2

You stayed in the bed, terrified of moving. The sun was low in sky, as evident by the orange glow in the room. You had no idea where he had gone or how long he would be gone. He didn’t look angry, just slightly inconvenienced when he asked about the man that saved your life. You slowly raised your hand to your cheek, it stung still, probably bruised like the rest of you.

Slowly you slid your foot up under your body, pressing up with your hands. You made it to a kneeling position breathing out the pain as you attempt to stand. You staggered forward into the wall and braced yourself to keep from falling. You needed a plan as you looked around the empty room again. He left nothing behind, the man was covered in weapons and yet there wasn’t a single one in the room.

Suddenly the door slammed open again, and his entire form filled the door way. You stepped back into the corner, your ankle giving out from under you. You fell to your knees as he lifted his brow at you, he swung the door shut as he walked in, allowing a bag to slip from his shoulder. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat as that icy glared held you in place again.

“Please don’t.” You cried as you pressed yourself back into the wall, he took a step forward.

“The target?” He asked again.

“I don’t know who that is.” You cried softly, pulling yourself into a ball as he continued over. “I swear.”

He knelt before you grasping the front of your neck and stood pulling you to your feet. Your face inches from his, you had to stand on the tips of your toes to keep from being choked. You could feel your fear racing through you, a tear snuck it’s way down your cheek again.

“The target, who is he?” He asked you, the edge was gone from his voice, it was more of a flat statement with a hint of confusion.

Something had happened in the time he had gone till now, you were sure of it. However there was still the nawing in the back of your brain telling you that this man was not to be trusted. You cautiously slipped your hand up to the wrist of the hand that currently held you by the throat.

“I.. I..” You stammered trying to get your brain and mouth to word in tandem. “I don’t know. He pulled me away when the explosions started going off.”

“Why?” He asked crisply, his brow twitched as his eyes hardened.

“Wha..” You trembled in his hand still, trying not think how utterly scared you were with this man. “What do you.. mean why?”

“Why did the target save you?” He asked, a low growl like noise came from him as he pulled your injured body closer to him.

“I don’t know.” You repeated the phrase you had said so much recently. He slung you back down to the hay. He turned away from you and stepped to window looking out for a brief moment before reaching outside and pulling some wood over the opening darkening the room.

You watched as he walked away from the window, he unzipped the jacket he was wearing and pulled it from his body. The man dropped it on the floor, the black shirt he wore under he pulled from his body as well. Your eyes tracked across the man’s well defined chest to where metal met flesh. Thick red scars surrounded the shoulder, how ever he lost his arm must of hurt like hell, you thought to yourself.

He walked over, bending to pick up the bag, that’s when you saw the gapping hole in his side. He had been struck by a bullet, blood tracked down his body disappearing into the hem of his pants. You watched as he fished out a small black satchel out from it and a small lantern, before walking over to you. He sat down on the edge of the hay, flicking the lantern on as he did. With his back to you, you could see the hole went straight through.

Slowly you moved away from him, crawling the best you could toward the end of the straw like bed. He stopped his movements suddenly, blue eyes flickering toward you. You ceased your movements, realizing that this man could still probably snap his arm in record time and catch you.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out, stilling yourself again.

You let your eyes trail down to his hands, the man held a needle and tread. The needle was already partially into his flesh when he had stopped. You looked back up to his face, his eyes still on you for a moment longer till they went back down to what they were doing. He worked silently as he stitch the bullet wound in his side. The only thing traveling through you mind was how much that had to hurt. Once he had finished he snipped the remaining thread with a small pair of scissors.

You watched as he reached back and felt around.

"The exit wound is about an inch higher." You told him quietly. His eyes snapped back you, the man caught you off guard when he held his hand out with the needle and thread in it. “You want me to?”

“Yes.” The word held no emotion. You just stared at him blankly for moment considering your options. If you didn’t do what he asked you were sure he would hit you again.

Slowly you crawled back over behind him and gently took the items from him. The man moved the lantern closer to you so you could see what you were doing better. Not that it would help much, you had never stitch someone before. Your fingers trembled and your hands shook.

“I.. I.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you held the needle just above the wound. Slowly he looked over his shoulder at you, it was in that moment you decided not to hesitate any longer.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t give any kind of indication that he even felt the pain from the needle. Maybe the trauma from the bullet had deaden the nerves. It still didn’t stop you from apologizing to him half a dozen times. You knotted the thread best you could once you had finished and snipped the needle free before handing it back over to him.

He turned slightly to face you, the frostiness in his stare had warmed a bit. He grabbed your ankle, not as tightly as he had before and pulled it toward him closer to the light of the lantern. He reached over your leg to his bag and pulled some bandages out. Slowly and methodically he wrapped your injured ankle.

“Who are you?” Your voice came out soft and weak as he gently finished wrapping it. It came to a surprise how gentle those hands could be, something told you this wasn’t ever the case.

His hands stopped and he look up, but not at you, he looked out to nothingness. A look of panic swept across his eyes, his brows furrowed together as his hair fell before those blues. You reached forward, suddenly his eyes looked at your fingers his hand snapped up and seized your wrist gently. You paused a moment but leaned forward anyway and gently brush his hair from his eyes. The look of confusion furthered on his face.

“You don’t know, do you?” You asked him, without warning he stood, your leg sliding into the hay. He walked across the room, his arm reflecting as he did. The plates in his arm whirring and clicking, he ran his hand through his hair. You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the pain in your ankle as you limped over to him.

The man spun on a dime to face you, and your heart raced in your chest as you near him. You could see each muscle in his chest and arms tense, his eyes hardened. You stopped just inches from him and slowly reached up. He didn’t move this time, piercing blues pinning you were you stood. You took a deep breath and touched the black mask, sliding your finger tips across the rough plastic. You found the clip and unlatched it, letting the plastic fall to the side.

Permanent tag-

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[wolveria]

Into the Twilight

Pairing: Link x Reader

Summary: It was one of the last full days of summer when you discovered your wolf… was not a wolf

Prompt: For the @bannedtogetherbingo2020​

Chapter Warnings: Explicit sexual content

Word Count: 2.8k

AO3

It was one of the last full days of summer when you discovered your wolf… was not a wolf.

You were headed down to the springs; it was hot, muggy, and the insects hung about your head in clouds. Not expecting to find anyone at your secret bathing spot, you paused at the sight of large, familiar wolf tracks in the mud. Only one beast could make tracks that large so close to the edge of the village.

Sure enough, you peered through the trees to find a hunched figure at the water, but… it was too small to be your wolf. Too naked and too human, you realized, as he rose to his feet.

Mortified at stumbling across someone during their bath, you nearly gave in to flight, but you paused. He was a stranger, someone you didn’t recognize, and his ears were pointed instead of round. How odd to find a Hylian here, of all places.

And he was beautiful. Even from this distance where you hid in the shadows, his golden skin and lean muscles were glistening in the sunlight. It was like something out of one of those romance books at Sera’s Sundries—not that you’d ever read them—and it made you feel even more like a pervert to just sit there and stare.

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave, either. Who was this mysterious Hylian? Where had he come from? Where were his clothes? You tried to spot them, anything to take your eyes off the golden-haired man as he slipped into the water, but you couldn’t see any fabric along the shore.

Deciding to confront him when he emerged, you waited him out, wiping irritably at the sweat on your forehead. The whine of dragonflies zipping across the water filled your ears, and you were resentful to the stranger for stealing your moment for a bath, no matter how pretty he might be.

Finally, the Hylian swam back to the shore and emerged onto land. Your face heated again at the sight of all that skin, and you attempted to keep your eyes down as you watched what he would do next.

Never could you have predicted him dropping onto all fours, spine arching and his fingers splayed across the ground as dark grey fur rippled across his growing body. A bushy tail sprouted, his limbs contorted into animal legs, and his head formed into the large wolf features you’d come to know so well over the past several months.

Your wolf… was a man.

Bath forgotten, you ran from the stream as fast as you could, unable to quell your panic until you’d returned home.

***

You had first met the wolf months earlier in the dead of winter. The woodland deer had been agitated, fleeing something in the forest, and it had been simple to follow the bright crimson trail of blood in the snow. Before long, you found a massive beast, one leg trapped in a cruel, metal vice meant to capture bears.

Trembling, eyes wide with fear, the wolf had allowed you to approach, and pull the pin on the hinge to release it. The wolf had taken off after that, only to return a few days later, weak and barely alive. It—he was starving, unable to hunt with a leg that was clearly broken.

You’d treated his wounds, fed him from your own meager food supply, and from that day forth he was more like a friend than a pet. You’d always suspected there was more going on behind those intelligent blue eyes—but you’d had no idea it was this.

Life went on as usual after your earth-shattering discovery at the spring. You talked to him like you always did, paying more attention now that you suspected he could understand. You didn’t know much about shapeshifters, just that they were the stuff of myth and legends, but here he was, real and true. You probably should have suspected something; what kind of wolf had such ornate fur with jewelry on his ears?

If the wolf understood you, he played ignorant and acted the part of a beast, albeit a clever one. He kept the brown bears from encroaching onto your small farm and never bothered your chickens or cats. But he kept his true nature to himself, and your curiosity grew with each day, stifled in frustration the longer he continued the charade.

One particularly hot, muggy day as you were toiling in the garden, dirty and knee-deep in rice paddy water, your patience snapped.

“I know you’re not just a wolf!”

His head perked up from where he was resting, ears forward as he looked at you.

“And I know you can understand me!” you fumed. “Why won’t you show me what you really are!”

Those blue eyes stared right through you, far away and haunted in the way only a person’s could be. Then he looked away, rose to his paws and took off, across the field and into the forest faster than you could follow.

Defeated and mournful with the certainty he wouldn’t come back, you cleaned up and went inside to get ready for an early bed. The sun was nearly set and you wouldn’t get anything else done the rest of the day.

But sleep wouldn’t come easy. As your old rickety barn house grew dark and the stars and moon climbed beyond the window, you tossed and turned, thin sheets tangled in sweaty limbs. Sighing irritably, you gave up the battle for sleep and stared blankly at the peaked roof over your head. It wasn’t long before your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, warmth blooming in anticipation.

Sometimes, on sleepless nights like these, it was the only way to find solace. You’d been alone for most of your life, and while there were a few attractive people in the village, no one drew your eye. No one, that is, until a few days earlier.

As you began to rub yourself, slowly at first, you pictured him perfectly in your mind. Shaggy dark blond hair, pale golden skin, and those eyes. Even in the distance you recognized the shade of blue, identical whether he was a man or a beast.

Was it wrong to have these thoughts? Did it truly matter? No one had to know. It was your secret to imagine those strong limbs wrapping around you, pulling you close as his hot mouth traced over your skin. What would that feel like? Warm and wet, with teeth a little too sharp—

You groaned as quietly as you could, spreading your knees and pressing your fingers deeper inside yourself, pretending it was him. The man whose name you didn’t know, wearing wolf’s clothing.

You didn’t know why you opened your eyes; a shift in the air, a creaking floorboard, or perhaps the quiet huff of a breath. But when you did open them, there were glittering eyes staring back at you from the foot of the bed.

You jerked your hand out of your shorts with a yelp and scrambled back on your elbows. The wolf continued to stare at you, dark and silent, and the hairs on your nape stood upright. Now you understood what it felt like to be a rabbit caught in a predator’s gaze, limbs frozen in terror.

With graceful silence, the wolf jumped onto your low-frame bed. He was so large you had to draw up your legs, and you moved as far away from him as you could, pressing your back to the stone wall.

Moonlight streamed in from the window above your bed, highlighting the white of his fur until it almost glowed. And then it did glow, shifting and shrinking until it was dark blond hair that was faintly illuminated by the light.

You couldn’t breathe or move. His expression was much more intense at such a close distance. His hair was unkempt, lips pulled thin as he watched you intently with blue eyes that hadn’t changed.

He crept toward you on all fours, movements cautious as he sniffed at your bent knee. You twitched when he licked your skin, the touch sending a ticklish jolt down your leg, leaving warmth in its wake. It wasn’t the only area that grew warmer.

His expression shifted into something darker as he leaned forward. He grabbed your hand, his movements clumsy as if from disuse, and he brought your fingers to his lips. It wasn’t until his tongue darted out and he licked the tips that you realized it was the same hand you’d used to touch yourself.

Face on fire, you tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. His tongue was as warm and wet as you’d imagined, his pupils blown as he slipped one of your fingers into his mouth. He sat back on his haunches, a soft moan escaping his throat, and you were suddenly reminded of his lack of clothes. The moonlight illuminated the smooth muscles of his chest and abdomen, and the erect, flushed cock hanging heavy between his legs.

Simultaneously, you tried to pull back your hand and press your thighs together, a poor attempt to hide your uncomfortable arousal. His dazed expression was replaced by a sharp, hungry one. He released your hand, pushed open your legs, and lowered himself to nose at the seam of your crotch.

You let out a harsh noise and tried to back away again, but there was nowhere to retreat and his hands were iron on your hips. He nosed and licked through the threadbare fabric of your shorts, slow at first as if you were a meal he wanted to savor, then more desperate as if he were starved.

The overwhelming need to be touched made you helpless as you rolled your hips against his mouth, fisting the sheets as part of you wanted to pull away and the other part sought more friction. The fabric of your shorts and underwear were quickly soaked from both of your efforts, and when he growled and grabbed your waistband in his teeth, you didn’t stop him as he tore them off.

Burying his head back between your legs, he wasted no time in hungrily licking stripes along your sensitive skin, groaning deep in his throat as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. He took you into his mouth, sucking and licking with almost clumsy enthusiasm.

You arched your back and dug your fingers into his shaggy, soft hair, too overwhelmed to question the morality of it all. He felt so good, and you were so lonely. Judging by his desperation, he was the same.

The pleasure in your gut built unbelievably fast, and you didn’t have time to warn him as your muscles clenched and electrifying pleasure shot up your body. You cried out, gripping his hair tightly as you throbbed in waves, every inch of your skin tingling as he sucked and licked you through your orgasm.

You gasped, oversensitive, and gently pulled him off of you. He frowned and his brows creased in disappointment, but his expression quickly changed to surprise as you pulled him up, fully on top of you.

He inhaled sharply when you drew him forward, hand on either side of his face, and pressed your lips against his. Relaxing into your grip, he quickly got the idea, opening his mouth and returning the gesture hungrily. He didn’t seem to know how to kiss properly, licking into your mouth more than anything, but you weren’t about to complain.

You broke apart when you had to gasp for air, heart pounding as something hard and hot poked against your thigh. He buried his face in your neck as if suddenly shy, but that didn’t stop him from darting out his tongue and licking your neck.

The skin of his back was smooth under your hands, your need to feel every inch of him like a physical ache, and it wasn’t longer than half a minute before he was panting and shivering, a low whine in his throat.

Slipping down between your hips, you grasped him in hand, savoring the way he groaned and rolled his hips, frustrated and wet as copious amounts of pre-cum leaked from the head. You guided him down until he was rubbing his length against you, the strength of his muscles taut. He was holding back, but just barely.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, lips pressed against one pointed ear. “It’s okay.”

His grip was tight enough to bruise as he grabbed your hips and pulled you down the bed so you were flat against the thin mattress. The head of his cock prodded against your entrance as he lined himself up, and then he pushed in. You were already slick from his mouth against you earlier, but it was still more than you were prepared for. You threw your head back, mouth open as you choked for breath, and he took advantage to lay kisses and licks all along your throat.

He was halfway inside when he slowly pulled out, giving you a few seconds to breathe before he pushed back in, sheathing all the way inside until his hips struck yours.

Nails digging into his back, you tried, and failed, to not whimper at the sudden, overwhelming fullness. He distracted you with soft touches and warm licks, tender and affectionate in a way you’d never experienced from anyone. There was only you and him, and when he began to roll his hips in long, slow thrusts, the pleasure blotted everything else out until there was only him.

He gradually picked up his pace, his moans and whimpers beautiful, and you wrapped your thighs around his waist in an attempt to get closer. You drew his lips back to yours, kissing him sloppy and open-mouthed, and like day to night, the gentleness became hard and desperate. He gripped you tight, slamming against your hips as he sucked and nipped at your throat. The bed rattled and shook under you from the force of his thrusts, and some distant part of you wondered if the bed would break.

No longer able to remain quiet, you cried out sharply as he repeatedly hit the deep, sensitive place inside you could never reach, and with a hoarse yell you came without warning.

He growled, losing his rhythm, and he bit down into your shoulder hard enough to draw blood. The pleasure whited out most of your senses until you were nothing but a writhing, crying mess. With a choked cry of his own, he pushed in as far as he could go, a warm, throbbing pulse following as he spilled deep inside you. He lay limp for a moment, then made to get off of you, but you held him tightly.

He allowed you to pull him back down on you, and you ran your fingers through his surprisingly soft hair. His trembling eventually stopped. He relaxed, his uneven breaths finally slowing, and he tentatively licked at the bleeding mark on your shoulder.

You buried the side of your face in his hair and continued to pet him. He hummed deep in his chest. You both remained that way for a while, floating in contentment, though you couldn’t stay like that forever. His seed was leaking out of you, and that knowledge was far more appealing than was proper.

Perhaps this is the person you’d always been, and it had taken a romp with a shapeshifter for you to realize it.

Eventually, he pushed himself up; you reluctantly let him go, but he only rolled onto his side to face you. You felt empty without him, another thought that sent fire to your cheeks, but he didn’t seem to be planning on going far. His expression was gentle and warm as he watched you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to pet his chest.

His eyelids shut halfway, a small smile on his lips as he moved a little closer, sharing your warmth. The night had turned colder, and you could smell the faint hint of autumn in the chilled air. Come winter, the forest would be coated with snow and it would be difficult to forage for food. You feared for him, out there alone, able to recall all too well when he’d been injured and starved.

“Stay.”

You reached up your hand and stroked his warm cheek. He leaned into it, closing his eyes, long dark lashes lying against his skin.

“Like this. With me.”

He opened his eyes and gave you a questioning look. Did he know what you were really asking? To stay for more than just one night?

“Can you… talk?”

He blinked, sharp brows furrowed.

“…Yes.”

His voice was barely above a broken rasp, but it was there. Your expression softened and you asked, “What’s your name?”

His lips parted, large eyes vulnerable and searching yours for something. An answer? Reassurance? What was it he feared?

He curled his hand around yours and pulled it down until it was over his heart.

“Link,” he said. “My name is Link.”

[untowonder-gone]

With no eyes to fall on him at this time of night, Idia had taken to the dark halls once more. This time with a small bag of cat food on his person to feed the strays out near the side building. And he would've continued doing that has he not noticed someone already near where the cats usually congregate. Staring blankly into a small pool of water. She looked familiar from behind, but in this piss poor light he couldnt very well tell who she was right away. Great. The cats were just passed her, too...

She looked like she was staring for a while though. Was she sleep walking? Time for a quick check. Looking around, Idia found a small pebble sitting on the ground nearby, deciding to toss it into the water from his hiding place to see if she'd at least blink a little--  ;  @ignitism​        random interactions  ;  always accepting!!

At night even such a small body of water reminded her of so much ink.  Caustic.  Toxic.  That deep rooted terror inducing substance that,  again,  and again,  swallowed whole student after student.  That dripping,  seeping,  negativity given form,  given purpose.  And though she ought to be repulsed by even thinking of that,  of blot in any form,  some part of her felt like she ought to be familiar with it.  That she ought to know it personally,  beyond watching the way the near oil-slick colored liquid corrupted those she had grown fond of.  Occasionally the water’s surface rippled with the faint breeze,  further dragging her gaze into the depths. 

If she remained still long enough,  would something reach out of the liquid?  All shattered glass and thick ink colored ichor.  A bishop attempting to return to its original position on the chess board.

Where did the bishop sit,  anyway?  Wasn’t it by the side of the Queen?  But was that Queen different from the card Queen?  And what if there was no Queen in sight,  where would the glass soldier go?  There were plenty of Queens at this school,  but none of them followed the rules set by White and Red or Black  —— splash!  the water’s still surface gave way to countless ripples,  and the slight spray of water droplets.

Startled from her thoughts,  Marianne blinked once,  twice,  a third time,  dry eyes watering just slightly.  How long had she been lost in her own head,  wandering through the twisting,  winding,  hedge maze of her own memories,  her own fixations?  Hadn’t she just left the Mostro Lounge?  Meaning to head to Mr. S’s to pick up something to pacify Riddle or,  perhaps,  even bribe Trey so he wouldn’t tattle on her?  This was quite the embarrassing situation if she had merely just lost track of herself,  no White Rabbit to blame for her wayward meandering,  nor Grim.

Right,  Grim,  he was probably already snuggled under the covers,  soft peets gently kneading her pillow.  She turned then,  taking her attention far away from the water,  the ripples,  the ink,  and mysterious glass soldier who had not manifested,  though she was quite certain he would have.  Her hand,  like clockwork,  rose to her lips where she might catch thumbnail between her teeth,  tugging most violently.  It took her a moment for her eyesight to adjust to the poor lighting,  before she looked for some familiar landmark to help lead her in the right direction.  There was,  of course,  the unmistakable prickling of her senses,  as though she were not alone,  or,  perhaps,  she was being watched by something dangerous to her person.  Or hardly dangerous,  depending on who asked.  If anyone had followed her,  she was quite certain she knew exactly who it would be,  or could be,  she merely had to speak their name into existence.  Well,  better both names then one.  ❝  Floyd?  Jade?  Did you follow me?  ❞

[bnhayyy]

The Call (8)

Chapter Title: Catalyst

Wordcount: 3.2k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: Ymir and Historia make a dangerous discovery.

Notes: I'm one day late in posting, but this is my response to day three of @mikannieweek ! The prompt was fight, so you best believe you're getting a fight. I know that neither Annie nor Mikasa actually appear in this chapter, but since it's very plot-relevant to the fic as a whole, which is very much a Mikannie fic, I say it counts. 

 Celadon is on vacation this week, so thank you to Rinky for betaing for me! Also, if you haven't already, you may want to read Caution and the Inverse before reading this chapter. It's a Yumihisu one-shot taking place in the same universe as The Call, and while it isn't necessary to understand this chapter, it does add some extra context.

Sleep was a tenuous thing for Historia. Sometimes she could get through the night just fine. Sometimes she would toss and turn, barely dozing off during the night and waking up to another morning where she'd have to put on a pleasant face and pretend that everything was fine.

The worst nights were the ones where she woke up screaming.

Sleeping with Ymir's arms wrapped around her helped keep the nightmares at bay. However, even she could not ward them off completely. There were still times when Historia woke up in the middle of the night with visions of Frieda screaming and snarling demons and shattered church windows flashing behind her eyes. In those horrible moments, the lie that was Krista Lenz felt like it was wrapped around her with the intent to suffocate rather than protect.

Ymir helped. But not even Ymir was truly invulnerable, for all that her strength and bravado tried to lull her into thinking she was. Historia had taken steps to protect her girlfriend after the encounter in the club. She had told the college that she was sick and holed up with Ymir in her apartment, where they had set up hidden cameras around the apartment building and made umpteen plans on what to do if the slayers broke in. Or if they forced them out. Or if they ambushed Ymir when she eventually went outside, because for all that Historia would be happy to make daily visits to the butcher's for the rest of her life if it meant keeping Ymir by her side, she knew that couldn't happen.

She couldn't even manage to keep her inside for two weeks.

Ten days. She only managed to remain inside for ten days, Ymir gradually growing more stir-crazy and Historia more anxious, before they broke. And it was all Historia's fault.

With the threat of the slayers breathing down their necks, the nightmares had increased. She had woken up screaming for seven of the past nine nights. When, on that tenth night, she woke up thrashing in Ymir's arms, concerned eyes staring down at her and the alarm clock on the nightstand reading three A.M., she finally gave in.

It was a short distance from her apartment to the river, and one of the few things that could reliably calm her nerves after an episode like that was going for a walk by the water. That evening, when Ymir caressed her hair and gently suggested that they go for a walk, Historia didn't have it in her to turn her down.

It was risky. There was a chance that one or both of the slayers would have found a reason to be by the river. However, Ymir swore up and down that Mikasa was almost always at the graveyard at three A.M. on weekdays and, Annie, who had been following her around like a cat with a mouse, would likely be there as well.

Historia still made Ymir check the cameras to make sure that the slayers weren't waiting for them outside the apartment. When she couldn't catch so much of as a glimpse of them, they set out.

Walking down the shoreline and breathing in the cool autumn night air, Historia couldn't say she regretted it.

Beside her, Ymir shoved her hands into pockets and glanced up at the sky. "So," she began, extending the word in a drawl. "Want to talk about it?"

Historia shrugged. "There isn't really much to talk about," she admitted. "I don't remember much of it. Just..." She swallowed down the lump in her throat and turned her head to look at the water. "Just that it was about Freida."

Nightmares about Freida weren't exactly uncommon. Most of them featured her in one way or another.

Silence hung over the pair for a long moment. It was broken by Ymir saying, "Well, if it helps at all, I think she'd be proud of you."

Historia glanced over at the vampire and raised an eyebrow. "You sound pretty confident for someone who never met her," she said.

There were many additional statements beyond that comment, things that she couldn't bear to delve into. Maybe someday she would. For now, however, she was content to act like they weren't even there.

Now it was Ymir's turn to shrug. "She sounds like she was the soft, sappy type," she said.

"As opposed to you," Historia countered.

" Exactly, " Ymir said. "You understand me so well, Historia! I really am going to need you to marry me one of these days." She shot her a wide, glowing grin and reached over to ruffle her hair. Historia ducked, but wasn't quick enough to avoid getting several locks of hair brushed out of place.

"Ymir," Historia groaned. Her girlfriend responded by lapsing into laughter, and a smile began to form on Historia's face in turn.

"What?" Ymir teased. "I can't help it if you're-"

Ymir froze, her grin faltering before fading away in place of pursed lips and narrowed eyes. She reached out and grabbed Historia's wrist not a second later.

"Ymir?" Historia whispered, her heart already beginning to quiver in her chest. She forced herself not to pay attention to it. If something was happening, then the last thing she needed to do was give in to panic and fear.

It was a good thing that she was already practiced at pushing those feelings down.

"There's someone up ahead," Ymir hissed.

"One of the slayers?" Historia asked.

She knew she was wrong even before Ymir responded. The gleam in her eyes, the tenseness in her muscles - neither of those things would be quite the same if it was the slayers. This was something that she thought might pose a threat to Historia. Then she slowly shook her head, and the confirmation came soon after.

"A vampire."

Historia nodded slowly. "Is it a stranger, or..."

Ymir took in a deep breath through her nose. She closed her eyes for a moment as she focused on the scent. When she opened them, there was a new fire blazing there. "You know him," she said. "I've caught his scent on your clothes before, when you come back from art class."

Art class? Historia didn't even have to stop and mentally run through the list of her classmates. Her mind immediately zeroed in on the immediate suspect, the vampire Ymir suspected of possessing the legendary gem of amara.

"Reiner," Historia breathed. 

Ymir stepped back and tugged on Historia's arm, gentle but insistent. "We should get out of here," she said.

Faintly, Historia realized that Ymir probably had the right idea. However, she could not deny the idea that was beginning to formulate within the depths of her mind... or the dull ache of anger behind the theory that fueled it.

"Wait," Historia said, voice pitching low. "I want to talk to him."

Ymir shot her a startled look. "Are you nuts?" she hissed. "Historia, I smell blood!"

"No," Historia said. "I have an idea."

Ymir hesitated. As she did so, Historia pulled her wrist out of her grasp, grabbed her hand, and looked into her eyes. "I trust you to protect me," she said. "Now trust me on this."

A long moment passed as Ymir stared at her. Finally, the vampire let out a long breath and nodded. "Alright," she said. "What's this plan of yours?"

Historia smiled. "Stay out of sight and follow my lead," she said. "I think it will become clear pretty quickly."

Ymir was once again reduced to staring at her in silence. For a moment, Historia worried that she might go back on her word. However, after a few heartbeats had passed, she nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

Historia offered a smile that was meant to reassure her girlfriend rather than express any of her own emotions. Then she resumed walking down the shoreline while Ymir wandered off to the side, disappearing into the darkness.

It wasn't long before a figure came into view. Historia slowed her breathing and stepped more carefully, as if her attempts to be quiet would be any real help against a vampire worth their salt.

Except Reiner didn't react as Historia drew closer. Eventually, she drew close enough to make out the shape of a body in the sand beside him, but Reiner didn't move a muscle. He was just standing there, staring out at the ocean. Historia furrowed her eyebrows. There was a chance that he was just faking her out, but she suspected that wasn't the case. She supposed that it might be in part due to the fact that the wind was blowing away from him and toward her. However, she also couldn't help but note that he seemed rather distracted.

Fine. She could use that to her advantage.

Historia drew even closer, drawing forward and closer to the river with each step. The patchy grass beneath her sandals eventually gave way to sand, automatically making her steps fractionally louder. It didn't matter. Reiner still didn't notice, a fact which became a little less surprising when she got close enough to realize that he was talking to himself. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she could see his lips move and make out the low, soft cadence of his voice.

More importantly, she could make out the body beside him. 

It was a dark-haired, pale-skinned woman who looked like she was in her early to mid-thirties. Historia didn't recognize her. She stared blankly for a few seconds, feeling next to nothing. There was a faint sense of sorrow that someone had died at all, but no true distress or grief over a random stranger. Historia knew all too well that people died all the time. If she cried over everyone who met an undeserving fate, she would never be able to stop.

Frieda would have cried. But Historia was no Frieda, no matter how hard she tried. 

So she stood there and stared for a few seconds. Then, steady and inevitable as the tide, her existing, tepid anger began to rise and grow into ice-cold fury. It probably wasn't fury for the right reason, but if the alternative was no strong feelings at all, she would take it. Especially considering what was at stake. 

Another person was dead. That would be another death that the slayers blamed Ymir for. Another reason for them to want her girlfriend dead.

Historia didn't have anything against Reiner. It was horrible that he was killing people, but frankly, as long as he didn't hurt anyone she cared about, she wasn't sure that she'd do anything about it. Reiner was pleasant company, and while she wouldn't help him, she wasn't going to risk the few things she had come to love to bring him to justice. But if it was between him and Ymir...

There weren't many things left that Historia loved in the world, and it had taken her a while to find them. But now that she had them, she wasn't going to let them go for anything.

So Historia plastered a concerned, fearful expression on her face and stepped up to the vampire. "Reiner!" she called. "What are you doing?"

Reiner jolted , and when he turned around, there was genuine surprise in his expression. "Krista," he said. "You're..." His gaze wandered over to the dead body beside him. "I didn't expect you to be here," he finished.

Here. Where he was dumping the body, he meant. Now that she looked, she could see weights attached to the body's hands and ankles.

The river was deep in places. If he handled this right, there was a good chance that the body would never be found again. Which explained where all the other bodies went. And oh, how much easier it became to let someone else take the blame for your crimes when there was no body to tie it back to you.

Not that Krista was supposed to catch on to all of that so quickly. Instead, she looked up at Reiner with large, watering eyes, and asked, "What is 'here'? Reiner, that's a body. We need to do something! We need to call the police or... or..."

She trailed off. Reiner was looking off to the side and running his hand through his hair, his jaw gritted and tension in his shoulders. It was probably safe for her to "realize" now.

"Did you do this?" Historia whispered, coaching her expression into one of dawning horror.

"Shit," Reiner said. "I'm sorry Krista. I didn't want you to get pulled into this."

A warm flame of vindictive triumph flickered in Historia's stomach as she took a step back and held a shaking hand up to her mouth. "Reiner, are you the one behind the disappearances?" she asked.

"Yeah," Reiner said, his expression hardening. "And I'm sorry, but I can't-"

He was cut off by someone fast enough to very nearly be a drill running up and punching him in the chest, sending him flying down the shoreline. "Thanks for the confession," Ymir snarled.

Reiner managed to land on his feet and was back upright in seconds. He looked at Historia, hard eyes meeting her flinty ones, before looking over at Ymir. "Ymir, I'm guessing."

"I'm surprised you didn't catch on," Ymir said, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought the slayers would have told you about us."

Reiner smiled unhappily. "The consensus is that Krista's being manipulated," he said.

"I'm not," Historia said, voice stony.

"Yeah," Reiner replied. "I'm getting that sense."

As Reiner began drawing closer, Ymir took a nigh-unnoticeable half-step back toward Historia and tapped her wrist. A sign to back off. Historia frowned, but reluctantly began stepping back, only stopping when she was several yards away from the other two. 

"What I'm wondering," Reiner continued as he took a slow step forward, voice level and suspicious, "is how you knew about me."

"You don't recognize me?" Ymir asked. Her eyes were gleaming the way they did when she was about to do something dangerous, and her feet shifted into a more solid fighting stance. "I'm surprised, seeing as I killed your friend and all. Marvel, or something?"

Reiner froze. A shadow fell over his face for half a second, then melted away as his eyes flashed yellow and his face morphed into the snarled visage as a vampire. "You're lying," he spat.

"You seem awfully upset, if I'm just supposed to be a liar," Ymir remarked.

"Marcel was killed by the slayer."

"Sorry to disappoint." Ymir shrugged. "But hey, he's gone and you're here, so I'd say it worked out pre-"

Reiner charged at her. Ymir lunged to the side but was unable to avoid his blow completely. She let out a hiss and staggered, knocked off-balance as his fist grazed her shoulder. Reiner swung around to aim a blow to her head, but Ymir quickly ducked, raising her arms and aiming a kick at his stomach.

But Reiner pulled his punch and grabbed Ymir's leg before she could make contact. Historia’s stomach wrenched at the sharp crack as Reiner pulled Ymir's leg in two directions. At the same time, Ymir twisted around to grab Reiner's shoulders and flipped herself up and out of his grasp. As she twisted, Historia noticed her grab a stake out of her back pocket.

Historia barely even had a moment to wonder at the fact that her vampire girlfriend was carrying around a stake before Ymir plunged the offending object into Reiner's back, right over his heart.

Reiner gasped and jerked forward.

Ymir pulled the stake out and took a step back.

He should have turned to dust. Instead, Historia watched as the hole in his back instantly closed, leaving only a hole in the back of his shirt.

Reiner took a few steps away from Ymir before turning around. There, the pair stared at each other for a long moment, Reiner's hand hovering over his heart and Ymir leaning heavily on one leg. Finally, Ymir's gaze flickered down to Reiner's hand. "Nice ring," she said. "Wonder how you'd fare against me without it."

"I don't plan on finding out," Reiner said, smiling grimly.

Reiner charged at Ymir, but she lunged forward and grappled him, pivoting on her uninjured leg and using his own momentum to fling him into the river. He hit the waves with a splash and sank like a rock, although Historia knew that it wouldn't keep him down for too long.

Ymir knew it too. She raced over to Historia, or at least, moved as fast as she could in her condition, and moved to pick her up.

Historia wriggled out of her girlfriend's grip and hissed, "Ymir, your leg!"

"Will heal no matter how badly I fuck it up," Ymir said. Historia might have even bought it if her gritted teeth didn't give away how much pain she was actually in. "But you-"

"-Can move faster than you right now," Historia interrupted. "Let's be smart about this." With that, she manhandled Ymir’s arm over her shoulders and all but dragged her girlfriend back up to the path. Once they were on even cement, she picked up the pace and began walking as fast as possible while aiding Ymir. 

For her part, Ymir was forced to slump and clearly reluctant to actually lean on her. However, once Historia started speeding up, she gave in and allowed her to bear some of her weight. Historia might have smiled if it weren't for the dire situation.

"Is he following us?" Historia asked.

"No,” Ymir said. "He isn't gonna. He still has to take care of the body. He's gone this long without a corpse being found, it'd mean a lot of trouble if one shows up now. Besides..." Ymir let out a pained laugh. "I staked him. He knows he’d be dead without that ring. He'd be an idiot not to let us get away."

Historia nodded and tried to swallow down her unease. She wasn't about to slow down and gamble on Reiner's willingness to let them escape, but it was good to know that she probably didn't have to worry about a furious vampire attacking them from behind. Even if there were what felt like a million other things that she did have to contend with. Such as...

"I'm sorry I got you hurt," Historia murmured. Since her car was now in sight, she allowed her gaze to drop for a moment before fixing it dead ahead once more.

Ymir laughed again, this time a little less pained and a lot more triumphant. "Hey, don't worry about it," she said. "What you got us is a lot more useful than an uninjured leg. Speaking of which... do you think you could get me a few phone numbers?"

Historia didn't even need to think about it. Being Krista Lenz, warm, kind, and so very involved with her school, came with a lot of benefits. However, she did pause as she led Ymir over to the passenger side door. Once her girlfriend was secure, she walked around to the driver's seat and climbed in. As she buckled her seatbelt and put the key in the ignition, she said, "Of course."

"Good," Ymir replied. A grim smile spread across her lips. "It's about time Ackerman and her friends found out who they're dealing with."