#i guess its just. at least we have that 'hed taken a break from adventuring' line from when kat was 10.

[translaytonblr]

it really truly and honestly sucks that hershel is a bad dad in canon. and you have to wonder how much of that is characterization vs the writing team being like "well this is a normal way to treat girls right?" (flora) or "uhh we need a story for our new game. how can we make our new character's story depend directly on someone else's" (kat) and its honestly sometimes really hard to tell which is which

[katzuyas]

blood drips from the fingers of the hand that suddenly rips through the flesh of the man who was bout to cut yuuri’s head off with one clean swing of his sword, and yuuri can’t exactly say he minds this sudden development. there is a clean hole in the man’s chest when he’s discarded to the side like a piece of insignificant dust, but yuuri’s too busy gazing at the one who saved him to look closer at all the gore.

because before him stands the most handsome man he’s ever seen.

it’s part admiration, part disgust that stirs in yuuri’s belly as he watches the man lift his bloodied hand to his lips and suck his fingers clean. something very disturbing seems to be happening before his very eyes, and yet... and yet, yuuri feels himself bewitched to the point of staying there and watching.

“did I scare you?” the man asks, licking his hand clean much like a cat. a hell cat. one of those feral beasts that feast on rotten flesh and--

“um,” yuuri swallows. “no?”

he’s risking it, he thinks, but when he considers it closer, it’s not really a lie that he gives in reply. he’s only partially scared. everyone would be after someone tried to kill them, and yuuri’s fear stems from that alone, it looks like. 

“oh?” the man cocks his head to the side. he looks at yuuri with bright blue eyes, which shine like gems and steal yuuri’s breath altogether. “so you aren’t scared of me?”

“should I be?” yuuri asks back, wondering where he gets the audacity to question a being who can rip through a human with enough ease as he just witnessed.

maybe it’s his close brush with death that’s given him the courage, or maybe it’s another feeling -- one of premonition of what’s to come -- that tells him his adventure into the land of the dead might not yet be far off, but yuuri finds strength in his limbs and lightness in his heart, so he stands.

and he looks the man in the eyes with no fear. “are you going to hurt me?”

the man seems to be as surprised at yuuri’s question as yuuri is at his own daring.

“hurt you? no!” he shakes his head and his silver hair flits about like spiderwebs on a light morning breeze. “why would you even think that? I’d never hurt you.”

“well,” yuuri clears his throat, looking to where the corpse of the man who tried to take his life has yet to chill. “that might have something to do with my question, but... if you aren’t here to hurt me... and you just saved me... then, how-- I mean, who are you? and why did you help me?”

the little breath that escapes from the man’s lips is much more hushed than a gasp. much more... disappointed, yuuri decides when he sees the crestfallen look on the man’s face.

“you don’t know,” comes the reply, and yuuri frowns.

of course he doesn’t? how could he--

“you called for me.”

“what?” yuuri blinks, surprised. “no, I didn’t. I would’ve known if--”

“but you did,” the man insists. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. you called me, or, well, your soul did? when humans come close to death their souls resonate, you see, and some of you have the strength to call one of us.”

humans, yuuri’s mind repeats as it reels. one of us.

“who... who are you?” he repeats through trembling lips.

the man’s smile is a slow thing, and it’s beautiful. it’s beautiful, but all of his handsome face is. it’s in his eyes that the beauty ends, or maybe, maybe that’s where it truly begins, because his blue gaze glows with power that is darker than any yuuri has seen.

he shivers when the man steps up to him, almost jumps in unease when he kneels. yuuri’s hand is taken and brought up to those smiling lips. there’s blood stains on his skin now, too, from the leftovers of his almost-killer, and yuuri’s stomach turns when he feels a kiss pressed to the inner part of his wrist -- right where his pulse flutters like a bird trapped in a cage against its will.

“I am nothing but your loyal dog, my liege,” the man whispers.

his warm breath settles in the palm of yuuri’s hand, distracting, but not distracting enough.

“my what?” yuuri asks. his voice comes out broken, so he clears his throat, and says again: “I don’t understand. how...?”

“you called upon me,” the man explains. “and I answered your call. I am now yours to command until the day you inevitably die.”

“but I didn’t,” yuuri insists, this time harder. he shakes his head. “I couldn’t have.”

“whyever not?”

the man peers up at him. he looks so perfectly poised while he continues to kneel at yuuri’s feet that yuuri trembles within himself from how beautiful it makes him. he knows he shouldn’t, but... he was already set to die tonight and he didn’t. so maybe luck was on his side, after all. maybe... maybe enough of it to let him get away with even more.

he slips his hand away from the light grasp and bows over until he can take the man’s face in his hands and set their foreheads together in faux gentleness. and he knows it instantly when the man realizes the change in the atmosphere around them, for those brilliant blue eyes widen in surprise that is heavily meshed with awe -- the awe that somehow makes yuuri feel powerful, more so than usual.

powerful, and stupid.

it’s that feeling that makes his brown eyes glow red, and it’s that feeling, too, which has him give the silky whisper of truth that only sparse few have ever heard:

“because I have no soul to call you.”

the man’s breath comes fast and hard, but he hears the truth in yuuri’s words, sees it in his inhuman eyes. gently, he turns his head towards the corpse of what must have been his intended master, the one that called him and the one he should’ve served, and yuuri lets him. he lets go.

“oh dear,” the man says, yet his voice does not indicate much upset about the way things have turned out. “I guess... I made a mistake? now that is no fun. I will need to head back to hell then...”

he stands up, but... he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry. in fact, he looks as if he wishes for a reason to stay. something to keep him here...

“before you go,” yuuri says before he thinks twice about it. “thank you for saving me. I would have died if he succeeded, so whatever trouble you’re in because of that, I feel like I should help you. so if you, well, that is, there is little I can do, but if you need a place to stay or to lie low for a while--”

“really?” the man blinks, and then breaks out into a smile so dazzling that yuuri feels the urge to shield his eyes. “could I stay with you then? I’m in no hurry to return, honestly. it’s so... dreary down there, you know.”

“but won’t you be in trouble if you don’t, I don’t know, report this? at least?”

the man shrugs. “they probably already know. besides, I’m glad I did what I did. I’d rather serve you than that pile of--”

“you don’t even know me,” yuuri tells him, a little amused, but mostly just too surprised at the turn of events to be fearful.

“but I’d like to know you,” the man replies easily. as easily as he slides up to him. as easily as he takes yuuri’s hand again, and as easily as he wraps his arm around yuuri’s waist almost in a parody of a dancing stance. “I’d very much like to know you... all of you.”

blood rushes to yuuri’s cheeks like it never has before, but even though the night is dark, he’s sure that this man can see it. he’s standing so close that he must, and yuuri knows it when he takes in the smile on his lips: a quirked, playful little thing that brings even more heat to yuuri’s face.

“how can I make a decision like that if you refuse to answer any of my questions,” yuuri says, but his protest is a feeble one. he already knows that he will not be able to resist this man’s charms. not now, not ever, most likely.

“then ask again, and I shall give you whatever it is you wish for.”

the man brings yuuri’s hand to his lips again, but this time he chooses to rest a kiss on yuuri’s knuckles instead of his wrist. if possible, it seems even more intimate than before, and yuuri’s heart beats double inside his chest.

“your name first,” he asks, unable to lift his eyes from where the man holds his hand in a grasp that is far gentler than yuuri would imagine. “and, who are you?”

“victor,” the man breathes. “my name is victor. and I’m a hellhound who answers the call of a human soul ready for eternal damnation. but, for you, I will be whoever you wish me to be--”

yuuri shakes his head as he looks up, right into his eyes. “no. you are who you are, and you will be who you decide to be. I have no right to change that, or ask it of you.”

victor’s surprise is clear, surely he hasn’t expected this. something in yuuri softens at the sight and it’s that same something that chooses to rest his trust in this man -- in victor -- whom he only just met, but whom he feels like he was supposed to meet all along.

“I’m yuuri,” yuuri says, and smiles when victor’s eyes meet his again. “yuuri of the katsuki clan. and I’m a vessel of the the squid god of hasetsu bay. my soul has already been claimed, but, with what little of myself there is left, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, victor.”

“oh, I assure you, yuuri,” victor chirps, sweet and playful, “the pleasure is all mine.”

he kisses yuuri’s hand again, yet this time his lips linger on yuuri’s skin just a bit longer while silver eyelashes flutter as victor closes his eyes. he breathes in deep, which makes yuuri flush all over again.

he quickly realizes why victor has done it, though. he’s a hellhound. he must have been familiarizing himself with yuuri’s scent, so that he could recognize it among the many others. and yet, once he figures it out, yuuri’s blush doesn’t go away. it only deepens, and deepens still when victor peers up at him with a gaze that is far more smitten than yuuri could ever hope it to be.

“you... um,” he bites his tongue from how fast he wants to speak, and needs to look away as embarrassment churns in his throat. yet, looking away from victor is harder than anything he’d ever done, and yuuri soon finds himself glancing his way again. “you said,” he tries again, “you said that you’d like to stay here, yes? if you still do, then my parents have an inn not far from here. we all live there, so if you--”

“I’d be honoured,” victor confesses, voice and eyes soft.

and yuuri, as he leads him by the hand which victor refuses to let go of, cannot deny that his heart feels oddly soft as well.

he was meant to die this night, but instead he has found himself with this strange man, who makes him feel strange things, and strangest of all? he has found himself trusting him, caring for him, and... before the cherry blossoms sprout their petals as spring takes her first steps, he finds himself loving him -- a hellhound from hell, who appeared in his life bloody, and who made all the blood in yuuri’s body run that much faster.

a hellhoud, a man, who showed him that even without a soul life has enough to offer to live, to love, and to be loved.

the hellhound, the man, whom yuuri has given what little of his was left to give: his heart.