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keigoslovebird · 4 years

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The Cat That Caught the Canary

Pairing: Hawks/Keigo Takami x Fem!Reader

Warnings: violence/threats of violence. A bit of swearing. Reader is fem and has a cat mutant quirk.

Genre: fluff, some suggestive content near the end

Word count: 7k

Author’s note: This is my very first MHA fic and I am so excited to share my love of Hawks with you all! There will be multiple chapters and smut, angst, and the like later on. I can’t promise any sort of regular updates, but I will do my very best to be semi-consistent. It is very self indulgent and very sweet because I’ve got the big dumb for the bird man. Please enjoy 7k words worth of Hawks fluff and let me know what you think!

Also, “koneko” means little cat or kitten in Japanese.

You don’t know how it happens, but it does.

You’re walking home from the train station, cutting into a secluded alleyway because the sun hasn’t set yet and there’s still sunlight spilling over rooftops. Your perceptive ears twitch and turn towards the sound of rustling and the shuffling of feet. Your instincts tell you to speed up, to run because there’s something out there, but a lifetime of fighting those instincts forces those feelings down. It’s probably someone else just trying to walk home, it’s fine, you tell yourself. Just to be safe you carefully turn around to look behind you, hoping to see some kind old lady walking down the street.

There’s no one in sight but you just know there’s somebody out there. You sense their presence, their movements but you can’t see them. It feels as if someone has dumped a bucket of ice water over your head, a sickly chill settling deep within your bones. Something is wrong, very wrong.

“I know you’re there. I can hear you,” You call out into the seemingly empty valley between two houses. When no one responds you quickly turn on your heel and head towards the busy, bustling street a few hundred feet ahead.

“Not so fast, kitty cat,” A low, gravelly voice breathes into your ear. They’re so close you can feel their breath on your neck, tainted with the smell of cigarettes and whiskey. Panic seizes and constricts your heart so fast that you don’t even think before you break out in a sprint. If you can just make it to the street you’ll be okay. The second your shoes hit the pavement, a hand grabs you by your shirt collar and harshly yanks backwards. You’re pulled further into the alley and into the shadows beginning to emerge from above as the sun starts to set.

You feel your back slam into a concrete wall, head bouncing off of it so quickly and forcefully you see stars and a dull ache begins to form at the back of your skull. You’re momentarily dazed, vision slightly blurry but you’re still able to make out two large figures looming over you menacingly. One of them has you caged between their thick, hairy arms, effectively trapping you in place, not that you could’ve outrun them anyhow. You’re small and agile, but they’re just so much bigger than you, or at least it seems that way. It takes a few seconds for your vision to clear, but now you see that your captors are two very large, very intimidating men. The one caging you in is much taller and more muscular than the other. The man to his right has chin-length black hair that’s greasy, likely unwashed for several days, if ever. He’s thin and spindly and the look on his face is reminiscent of a spider awaiting its prey. Your ears flatten against your head, tail tucking between your trembling legs as you realize the gravity of the situation you’re in.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doing walking around alone?” You recognize the voice as the one who called out to you before. He’s standing beside his burly friend who has you trapped. You can smell the cheap alcohol and smoke on the man’s breath even stronger now that he’s so close. “It’s far too dangerous at night. You never know what kinds of things could be lurking in the shadows, just waiting to take a bite into a sweet, tasty morsel like yourself.”

Your heart races, hammering so furiously that it feels as if it’ll beat out of your chest. You’re frozen and silent from the fear overtaking your entire body. The feeling of dread and terror is icy and sharp in your veins.

“I’m curious, kitty cat. Are these real?” The long-haired man reaches a gangly, too long arm over and grabs your ears in a punishing grip. You reach up in an attempt to bat his hands away but the muscular man moves his hands from the wall to hold your hands at your sides. The long-haired man’s other hand snakes between your legs, reaching for your tail and yanking it with a force that makes you yelp. You can feel tears prick your eyes and you shut them tightly to avoid letting them see you cry.

“Yes! They’re part of my quirk. Please stop, that hurts,” You whimper, lip trembling with unshed tears. The hold on your sensitive ears is beginning to overwhelm your senses. “I don’t have much money on me, just take whatever you want but please don’t hurt me.” You plead with them, just hoping they were looking for an easy target to get some quick cash from.

Before any of you can react, there’s a flash of crimson and suddenly the man who had been holding you in place is knocked off his feet. “Wha-,” The long-haired man doesn’t get a word in before he too has his feet swept out from underneath him. You look over in the direction where the projectiles came from and nearly faint at the sight of number two pro hero Hawks perched atop a building above you. He swoops down from his perch, his huge scarlet wings seeming larger than life as he lands beside you. The two men who attacked you are laying on the ground, feathers wrapped around their wrists.

“Miss, are you alright? I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you earlier, there was another situation downtown that made me late for my patrols,” Hawks looks genuinely apologetic and the whole situation is just so overwhelming and your head is reeling at how fast everything has shifted since he arrived. The chemicals coursing through your body are making your head swim and your thoughts are so jumbled and fragmented you can barely string together a coherent sentence.

“Y-yes, I’m fine! Thank you, Hawks, I am grateful that you came to rescue me.” You manage to stutter out, bowing at the waist to show your gratitude. In your state of confusion you forgot to address Hawks formally, making you squeak at your carelessness. “Ah! H-Hawks-san I’m sorry for being so casual.” A fiery blush begins to spread across your cheeks from your embarrassment and Hawks’ close proximity. You’ve seen him in tabloids, plastered across social media, and on local news stations, but this is the first time you’ve seen a pro hero in person, let alone such a handsome one.

Hawk’s cool, collected persona rarely wavers, but what does make it waver is the warm, rosy glow of your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkle as you talk to him. He notices that your fuzzy little ears are twitching and he wonders how soft the fur would feel between his fingers.

“Ah, no need to be so formal with me. I don’t mind when people talk to me casually.” He waves a gloved hand in the air dismissively. Smiling brightly, he shows off his perfect, pearly white teeth. His smile is so warm and infectious that you find yourself smiling back at him. “Especially when they’re as pretty as you are.” He winks and you feel your blush deepen and spread even further across your face. You knew about Hawks’ flirtatiousness from social media posts and tabloids that detailed his various flings, but you never expected it to be directed at you.

Hawk’s eyes flick down to your mouth, hoping it’s too brief for you to catch or that you’re too frazzled to notice. He finds his gaze lingering a bit too long on how your glossy, pink lips part and the way the corners upturn when you smile. He analyzes your face, taking in every painstaking detail to commit it to memory. He takes note of the beauty marks and dimples that frame your pretty, tender smile. It’s a genuine expression of gratitude that makes his insides fuzzy and warm. He wants to wrap himself in the feeling, revel in it, and never let it go.

“O-Oh well thank you and you have my gratitude, Hawks,” You look away shyly, scratching the back of your head sheepishly. You can feel the tip of your tail begin to flick out of anxiety and attempt to subtly reach down and grab it to still its movement. You hope and pray that he doesn’t the way your voice wobbles.

“It was my pleasure, miss. I’m always here to help, it’s my job after all,” He looks as if he’s about to say something else when his phone buzzes from his pocket. He pulls it out and sighs tiredly. “I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly but duty calls. Don’t worry about these guys, I’ve already called the Police Force and they’re on their way. Those feathers will restrain them until the police get here,” He flicks his visor down over his eyes and his wings begin to flap, stirring the air around you as he gets ready to take off toward wherever the Commission has called him to.

A part of Hawks wishes to stay here with you a bit longer, a part of him that he’s been taught to rein in and repress for the sake of his hero duties. He can’t stop and comfort every civilian that he saves when there’s countless more that need him. The frightened, nervous look in your eyes tugs at his heart strings and he just wants to tell you it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t let himself indulge in those thoughts for very long. He’s Hawks, number two pro hero, the man who’s a bit too fast. He has too many people relying on him, counting on him to even entertain the thoughts in his head.

“W-Wait! I want to thank you somehow.” You blurt out, cringing at the way your voice squeaks. There’s a weighty beat of silence while you dig around in your purse to retrieve a card. “I work at a cat café… Here’s a gift card for a free drink. It’s not much but I wanted to at least give you something.” You awkwardly thrust the card in Hawk’s direction, eyes wandering to avoid making direct eye contact with him. He takes the card and smiles at you again but this time it’s softer, sweeter and it stirs something deep in your belly. This smile feels more authentic and less rehearsed than the kilowatt smile he flashes for the cameras. He takes the card and gingerly tucks it in the pocket of his coat.

The card, emblazoned with the cafe’s name and decorated with paw prints, radiates warmth against his chest.

“Thanks, kid. I’ll drop by sometime when I’m not busy saving the world.” He winks, giving you a two finger salute and in a flourish of brilliant vermillion feathers, he’s gone just as quickly as he came.

He regrets saying that he’ll stop by because truthfully, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to. The Commission has him working more than ever and he never gets a day off, if the dark circles hidden under the concealer underneath his eyes are any indication. He knows he shouldn’t have given you false hope that you’ll see him again, but the way your smile constricts his heart and your scent steals the breath from his lungs, he knows that if you called out for him, he’d come running.

━━

Many weeks pass before you see Hawks again and you begin to think that he has simply forgotten or is just choosing not to see you, a thought that makes your shoulders sag and your ears droop. But really, what would a talented, successful guy like Hawks want with an average girl like you? Sure he said you were cute, but he probably tells lots of people that.

It starts out just like any average day at the cat café you work at. You show up to work at seven am, three hours before opening so you have time to prepare for the day. You unlock the front door with your key and your boss calls out a hello from the back where she’s tending to the cats before they’re allowed to roam the café.

The café itself is small but cozy and intimate, sandwiched between a bookstore and a thrift store. It always smells like chamomile and daisies, both for customers’ and the cats’ enjoyment. The overhead lights give off a soft, warm glow. There’s several tables and chairs set up along the walls, cat trees and scratching posts taking up most of the free middle space. It’s never terribly busy, just enough to keep the café open and the cats cared for.

You begin your opening duties, starting with sweeping the floors and wiping down surfaces. This part takes the longest because you have to be thorough and diligent in your cleaning, lest you want another visit from the Tokyo Health Department. You decorate the cookies and cupcakes your boss’s wife makes with cat faces and paw prints and arrange them in the dessert display case. Once you finish your duties, it’s time to let the cats out to roam. You open the door that separates the café from the room that the cats play in before opening and five cats come prancing out, the little bells on their collars jingling softly as they move. One of the cats, a grey Scottish fold, rubs against your legs and meows cheerfully at you.

“Good morning Chibi, it’s nice to see you too,” You lean down to scratch between her ears and she purrs, enjoying the affection. “I’ll check with the boss soon to see if we can get another one of those mouse toys that I know you like, how does that sound?” The cat chirps appreciatively and head butts your hand before walking off to convene with the other cats. They’re surrounding the 5 cat bowls nestled in the corner of the café, noticing the blatant lack of wet food in their bowls. Their eyes are dilated, ears pointed forward to express their annoyance. One of the cats reaches his paw into the bowl and pokes the little bits of dry food around it. “I know what you guys are thinking and you’re not getting more wet food after yesterday when Shiro and Kuro ate so much they threw up in a customer’s lap. The same customer. Dry food only today,” You warn over your shoulder as you go behind the counter to put on a clean apron. One of the cats makes a noise akin to a grumble and another seemingly rolls her eyes.

Ten a.m. rolls around and your boss unlocks the front door for the public. A handful of people come in and order the typical fare of cappuccinos and lattes while they play with the cats. You busy yourself with making drinks and cleaning up any messes the cats make while your boss mans the cash register. The sounds of the café blend and intermingle into an ambient, comfortable backdrop to a pleasant atmosphere. A few patrons scattered throughout the cafe are chatting quietly with their companions and the cats are chasing each other around their cat tree, the bells on their collars gently tinkling.

It seems like just a normal day. Until he shows up.

You’re in the middle of making a customer’s cappuccino when you see Hawks through the café window. Your body jerks so hard you almost destroy the cat face that you were drawing in the foam. You never actually expected him to show up and now your head tingles at the possibility that he’s here to see you, although your voice of reason tells you to dampen your excitement. He’s probably here just for the cats or the drinks, nothing more.

Hawks is in his civilian clothes and has a pair of sunglasses on, but those scarlet wings are recognizable anywhere, despite how much smaller and sparser they are. You notice by the way he moves he’s tired, a little worse for wear.

The bell above the door dings as he swings it open, his presence seeming to suffocate the entire room. Any source of conversation ceases and all heads turn toward the door, including the cats. No one would expect for one of the top heroes in Japan to visit a tiny cat café on the outskirts of Musutafu, in fact, this is one of the last places one would expect to see him in. He’s rarely seen outside of the hustle and bustle of the metropolitan areas, and even rarer seen off duty and out of his hero costume.

A couple of people go up to him and ask for pictures of autographs, which he graciously gives with that signature million-dollar smile on his face. He’s inwardly thankful that the café is in one of the more sparsely populated areas of the city so he’s not caught up in entertaining the public when he’s really here for just one thing. You.

You’re standing behind the serving counter, a determined look on your face as you use a toothpick to draw in the foam of the cup in front of you. Your hair is pulled into a ponytail and you’re wearing a cream-colored apron with the cafe’s logo on it. Your tongue is cutely poking out between your lips, eyes thoroughly focused on your task and the sight is so endearing that he feels warmth spread throughout his body. There’s a tingling in his spine that he knows he should ignore, but the temptation to come see you again was too great to ignore.

“Welcome Hawks-sama! Please sit down and relax. Whatever you would like is on the house, just please let us know and we’ll get it for you right away!” Your boss rushes to Hawks and excitedly babbles at him as he approaches the sale counter, awe-struck and taken aback by the hero’s unexpected appearance. She bows deeply and not-so-subtly gestures at you to bow as well, mouthing “be respectful” and jerking her head in his direction. Flustered by her threatening passion at properly greeting Hawks, you put the cappuccino you were holding onto the counter and bow.

“Thank you for such a warm welcome, ma’am. I insist on paying for anything I order, but I happen to have a gift card from a certain employee of yours.” He grins in your direction, his eyes full of mirth and amusement at your boss’s enthusiasm.

“Of course, sir! Please let the barista know when you’re ready to order and feel free to stay as long as you’d like!” She speaks a bit too fast and a bit too loud, a few customers turning their heads in the direction of the commotion, but Hawks doesn’t seem to mind, likely used to these types of reactions. The ringing of a phone is heard from the back of the store and a conflicted look crosses your boss’s face, not wanting to leave and miss the opportunity to talk to him. “I apologize for the rude interruption sir, but I have an important phone call I must answer. Koneko-chan here can take care of anything you need. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Your boss bows again, hesitating to actually leave but eventually she does, leaving you alone with Hawks.

“I’ve asked her many times not to call me that in front of customers. I have a name but she refuses to call me by it, saying it’s important for the theme of the café, or something like that,” You smile shyly at him, unsure where to look or where to put your hands so you put them behind your back. Your tail is flicking again from your uncertainty and in your head you’re willing it stop.

“Well, what is your name? I never got the chance to ask the day we met and I regret going all this time without knowing your name. Unless you'd like for me to call you Koneko-chan, it’s a pretty cute nickname for an even cuter girl.” Hawks’ tone is laced with a teasing flirtatiousness that makes your heart flutter. He leisurely leans on the shop counter, propping his chin up one of his hands.

“Ah, well, Koneko-chan is a childhood nickname so I don’t mind being called by it, I even enjoy it. I prefer to be called my name by customers, but you can call me whatever you’d like, Hawks.” You look up at him through your lashes and shyly tell him your name, hoping you’re not mistaking his friendliness for flirtatiousness and that he really is expressing an interest in you.

“Koneko-chan it is.” He declares, flashing you another glimpse of that perfect smile that makes your heart skip a beat. He nods in agreement with himself, as if he was closing some sort of negotiation. “But say, I think you owe me a drink. Could I get an iced coffee, extra sugar?” He scans the menu for a brief second but you know he’s just looking for some caffeine, judging by the slight drooping of his shoulders and the exhaustion you can see through his jovial expression. He hands you the card that you gave him several weeks ago. What he doesn’t say is that he’s kept it in the pocket of his coat since that day, periodically patting it to make sure it was still there, even pulling it out when he had a free moment to spare, despite how far and few between those moments tend to be.

He almost doesn’t like how easily you’ve managed to get inside his head. The part of his brain that was trained to be a hero tells him that he shouldn’t entertain the idea of anything more than a friendship with you, let alone show up to your job and continue to stoke the fire that’s building inside him. The other part of his brain tells him that he deserves to have this sweet, secret little thing with you, even if it’s only for a little while because right now he doesn’t feel like Hawks, number two pro hero of Fierce Wings. He feels like Keigo Takami, an average 23-year-old guy trying to talk to a girl he likes, dare he say, a girl he has a crush on.

“Of course, I’ll get right on it,” You turn to start preparing his drink and check the watch on your wrist. “It’s almost my lunch break, would you like to sit and talk for a bit?” You can hear the insecurity in your voice and hope it doesn’t make him rethink whatever this thing is that’s blooming between you.

“How could I turn down good coffee and good company? Of course, I’d love to.” Hawks eagerly nods his head in his palm, beaming with pleasant agreement.

“Feel free to sit down while I make your drink. I’m sure the cats would love to meet you.” You start pressing buttons on the coffee machine and look over your shoulder to give him a warning. “Although, I would be careful with those wings of yours, they might mistake them for a toy.” You giggle to yourself at the thought of the cats cornering him, looks of curiosity and wonder on their faces as they use their little paws to bat at his feathers. You don’t notice that Hawks is watching you with a feathered eyebrow raised out of his own curiosity and wonder of what’s going through your head. What he wouldn’t give just to know what you’re thinking about, what you think about him.

“I don’t mind, at least I’ll be useful for something while I’m plucked this thin!” He shakes his sparse wings for emphasis, showcasing the fact that they’re little more than tufts of feathers about the size of your palm. He removes himself from the counter he’s been leaning over for the past ten minutes and walks over to a table to sit and wait. He waves at you from his seat, pointing to the chair across the table from him and grinning, reminiscent of a child that spots their friend from across the cafeteria.

You don’t know why such a talented, handsome, accomplished guy like Hawks wants to spend time with you, a quiet, ordinary girl but you’re not about to question it. You want to cherish this moment and take advantage of the time you get with him because you know nothing is guaranteed or assured in his world.

After you finish making his drink you hang up your apron and make your way to the table in the corner where Hawks is sitting. You set the cup down in front of him and slide into your seat, a cat hopping into your lap not seconds later. He’s a little ginger cat named Mikan and you scratch behind his ears absentmindedly while he makes biscuits on your thighs.

Now that you’ve changed out of your work apron, Hawks can really take in your appearance. He already knew you were pretty, but he didn’t realize just how stunning you are. You’re wearing a pair of well-worn light blue denim jeans, they’re form-fitting and accentuate the swell of your hips and he has to resist ogling your butt as you walk over. Your top is form fitting as well, the material stretched over your breasts enticingly. He gives you a quick once over before you sit down, hopefully subtle enough that you don’t notice his eyes wandering. He wills those thoughts away in favor of focusing on how thankful he is to even be sitting here with you.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come see you. I don’t get a lot of time off, but they just had to give me some after they saw the state of these things.” Hawks’ tone is joking and light, but you can hear the exhaustion and weariness that tinges his words.“ They’ll regrow soon, it just takes a few days, but I can’t save the world without my wings so I get some time to visit my favorite cat girl.” He winks, his flirtatiousness causing you to quickly avert your eyes to the cat in your lap. You coyly look back up at him and smile when you find his gaze unwaveringly trained on you. Each time you look at him, it feels as if those piercing golden irises are analyzing your every move, every change in your expression.

That’s not really too far from the truth. A part of Hawks’ hero training was dedicated to recognizing body language cues and facial expressions. It’s been ingrained in him to search for dishonesty, any hint of wrongdoing in the way a person carries themselves. When he looks into those wide, inviting eyes of yours that seem to put him in an unbreakable trance, he doesn’t even know if he could resist you even if you did turn out to be malicious. It should scare him, and it does, but not as much as it should. As much as he’s observed you, he knows you aren’t being disingenuous by the open, unguarded expression on your face and the way you’re casually leaning towards him as he speaks.

Your voice interrupts his internal monologue, his racing thoughts coming to a screeching halt.

“Oh, I’m sure you know lots of girls with mutant cat quirks. Even if you do, I still better be your favorite.” Judging from the way a smirk is tugging at the corners of your lips and the playful inflection of your voice, you’re teasing him.

Oh, he likes that. He likes it a lot.

It sends a delightful shiver down his spine and he’s silently thankful that his wings are much smaller than their usual size, otherwise you would notice the way they’re twitching.

He’s only just met you and he’s already so smitten he would do anything for you. He would rip the moon and stars out of the fucking sky with his bare hands if you asked him to. The effect you have on him is dangerous, he knows this, but he’s never been one to shy away from danger.

“You know you are, Koneko-chan. You’re the only kitty for me.” He sighs dreamily, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. The lights overhead reflect off of his pupils, highlighting the mischievous glint in his half-lidded eyes. You laugh, high-pitched and contagious, and he’ll do anything to hear it again. His head is swimming with the swarm of emotions he’s experiencing all at once and it feels as if he’s simultaneously drowning and taking his first real breath of fresh air.

Hawks seems to be deep in thought and you take it as an opportunity to admire his beauty. Your eyes follow the angle of his jawline, the high, regal slope of his nose. You focus on those mesmerizing golden eyes and the black markings that give them a more avian-like appearance. He really is devastatingly handsome and to make matters worse, he knows it and he knows you’re staring at him by the way he’s smirking.

You’re so taken by one another that you don’t notice Mikan climb up on the table to meow at you loudly, demanding your attention by headbutting your arm. You chuckle lightly at the cat’s jealousy towards the man across from him, who he sees as the one who’s stealing all of your attention. Hawks watches, fascinated by the way you and the cat have this wordless, unspoken conversation through your eyes. You notice the way he’s watching you two with quizzical interest and you smile, knowing exactly what’s going through his head.

“Despite what many people think, I can’t communicate with them. Our physiologies are just too different.” You explain as you scratch Mikan’s chin, the cat purring in contentment. “But I am more attuned to their emotions and I empathize with the way they’re feeling because I often feel the same way. It’s an essentially useless quirk but it has its perks, especially here.” The cat rubs his chin against yours and you lean in closer to let him rub his scent on you.

Hawks smiles and can feel his heart swell at the sweet, tender moment between you and the small animal in your lap. He chuckles to himself when he notices that both of your tails are twitching, a sign that a cat is happy, if the extensive Googling he’s done about cat behavior is worth anything. He wants to remember this moment forever, just him, a pretty girl, and a cat in a little cafe miles from the city center. He wants to keep it, tuck it away in his pocket to covet for himself. It feels as if you’re the only two people in the world and for now, you are and that’s all that really matters.

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud in some faraway land, just waiting for the sobering free fall back down to earth. The way the sunlight hits his flaxen hair like some sort of halo makes him look like an angel and you think he may as well be one. He’s so radiant and ethereal that you feel like you’re being burned alive but you can’t bring yourself to care. You don’t mind as long as it’s his light that burns you.

You’re suddenly jerked from your shared reverie by your boss yelling at you that your break is over. Mikan darts from your lap at the sudden outburst and you both jolt in your seats as well.

“I’m really sorry, I have to get back to work.” You get up from your seat, trying to look and sound as apologetic as you feel. “But if you want to hang out some more, I’ll be off in a few hours and there’s a cute little park a couple streets from the café that we could meet at… Only if you want! You’re probably busy...” You speak quietly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other in uncertainty.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Koneko-chan.” Hawks says it with a wink, but he really means it. Bar a national disaster, he’d be there just to see you for a little longer.

Hawks hangs around the café for another hour before leaving to stroll through the streets of your quiet little corner of Musutafu, appreciating the lack of attention he gets as he walks around.

You get off around 4 p.m. and rush to the park you had mentioned to Hawks. True to his word, he’s there, leisurely leaned back on a bench in the middle of the park, watching the birds fly amongst the trees. You join him on the bench, sitting an appropriate amount of space away from him, close enough to be friendly but far enough away to give him adequate personal space.

“You’re here.” You sound a little breathless and surprised and it almost comes out like a question.

“Of course I am. I said I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” There’s no teasing, no flirtatiousness in Hawks’ voice and the way he speaks so matter-of-factly momentarily startles you. You know this isn’t a side of him that many people get to see and you’re thankful for it.

You talk until the sun hangs low in the sky, learning whatever you can about one another. Your voice feels scratchy from overuse and you feel like you’re dominating the conversation, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Hawks is more than happy to let you do most of the talking. You likely already know most of what’s publicly known about him and what isn’t public knowledge he knows he can’t tell you, at least not yet. He wouldn’t really know what to talk about outside of heroism, he doesn’t have the same opportunities that any other guy in his early twenties does and he knows it would be hard to relate to him. So, he lets you lead the conversation, hanging on to your every word, adding his own input every once in a while.

You know you’re talking a lot, but Hawks doesn’t seem to mind so you don’t mind either. You’re mostly content with doing most of the talking, but there’s a question burning a hole in your chest that you have to ask him. You pivot your body towards him, placing a gentle hand on top of his and he has to ignore the tingling sensation where your skin meets his.

A serious look takes over your features and anxiety steals the breath from Hawks’ lungs, worried that you’ve completely changed your mind about him, that you’re going to tell him to go away and leave you alone because you don’t need the drama in your life that will inevitably follow you if you were to ever pursue anything with him.

“Hawks...” You start, apprehensive as you struggle to find the right words to say. “You’re always so busy saving and taking care of other people, but who takes care of you?” The moment the words leave your lips you want to take them back, his happy expression quickly fading to a look of somber contemplation.

Hawks is stunned into uncharacteristic silence by the seriousness of your words and the vulnerable expression on your face. No one has asked him about his own wellbeing before, excluding people who ask whether he’s physically fit enough to keep doing his job, whether he’s still of use. His entire life he’s been worked to the bone with little regard for his health, let alone his happiness. He’s been trained to be the government’s human weapon against evil and he’s damn good at being a weapon, but it’s often forgotten what he really is.

A human.

“I… I don’t know,” Hawks’ voice is filled with a rare uncertainty that he’s not sure that he likes. He sighs tiredly, running a hand through his already unruly mess of blonde hair. “I haven’t really thought about it before.” He sounds defeated and it’s the most heartbreaking thing you’ve ever heard and you can feel a lump form in your throat. He has spent every moment of his short life helping people, preventing disasters, saving the world while carrying that heavy burden on his shoulders. He’s Winged Hero Hawks, number two pro hero and his persona is so grand, so great that he feels larger than life. But right now he looks so small sitting next to you on the park bench you’re afraid he might disappear right before your eyes.

You’re looking at him with those pretty eyes yours that are so full of warmth and love that he just wants to kiss you. He doesn’t give himself time to think about the consequences of what he’s about to do, moving faster than his brain can react.

He puts a rough, calloused palm on your cheek, eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. Your pulse quickens from his close proximity, his breath fanning over your cheeks and you can smell the sweetness of the coffee that he drank earlier.

With a slight nod of your head Hawks closes his eyes and leans in, his lips getting closer and you swear your heart is beating so loud he can surely hear it. Your stomach is in knots and you’re not sure you’re taking in enough oxygen. You let your eyes flutter shut and part your lips, your breath quickening as you feel his body press against your own. When your lips finally meet it feels as if the world and time itself have stopped. Your senses are overwhelmed by his musky cologne, his vanilla lip balm, his soft lips against yours.

Him.

You can’t see or feel anything but him and you’re so overwhelmed you think you might die, filled with Hawks in every sense of the word, but you can’t even think of anything but him.

Hawks, Hawks, Hawks.

You’re repeating his name in your head like a mantra, hoping it’ll keep you grounded. His fingers are tangled in your hair you think, but you’re not really sure, not with the way his lips are moving, needy and insistent against your own. You let out a squeak of surprise when you feel his hot, wet tongue probe between your lips and he swiftly loops one arm around your back and hooks the other around your thigh, half pulling you onto his lap.

The cute little sighs and hums you’re making fill Hawks with more satisfaction than they should. He opens one of his eyes to take a guilty peek at you and he can’t think of anything prettier than the sight of your blushing, squirming body in his lap. He experimentally licks at the inside of your mouth, gauging your reaction before sliding his tongue against your own.

A voice, albeit a very small one, in the back of your head tells you to stop, you’re still in a public park and the sun is halfway hidden behind the landscape. You try to pull away from Hawks but he just leans in further, his lips following yours, so you gently but firmly push against his chest to separate yourselves.

When your lips part there’s a string of saliva that still connects you and Hawks thinks it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever seen.

It takes a few seconds for his higher thinking to return, but when it does worry he begins to etch itself into his features when he realizes you’ve pushed him away, wings pressing against his back.

“Hey, did I do something wrong there? I thought it was pretty good, and I think you did too judging by those noises you were making.” He always falls back on old habits, trying to mask his insecurity with flippant arrogance. You shake your head, a look of apology on your face.

“As much as I’m enjoying myself, I’d rather not grope each other in the middle of a park like a couple of teenagers,” you muse, “But I would love to see you again and pick up where we left off.” Your tone is suggestive and Hawks can feel his jeans tighten from the implication of your words.

“Ah, of course. I should be treating you like the proper lady you are, and here I am disrespecting your honor in a park.” Hawks tries to lighten the mood, his nerve endings still singing from your little make out session. The air around you feels hot and sticky against his skin and he’s trying to calm the blood rushing in his ears.

“Don’t worry about it. I really, really liked it.” You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks once more, despite the fact that moments ago you were almost dry humping in Hawks’ lap. “But it’s getting late and we both should head home.” You sigh, not wanting to leave your little bubble away from the chaos of the world. You stand up, holding your hand out to him.

He takes your hand and rises from his seat on the bench. The way that your head just barely grazes his chin makes him realize how small you are. Have you always been that small?

“Hey Hawks?” Your eyes are shining again and you’re playing with a loose thread on Hawks’ jacket.

“Yeah?” There’s a sort of pleading in your eyes and Hawks wants so badly to give you whatever you want, whatever you’re about to ask him he knows he’ll say yes.

“About what I said earlier…” You start, reaching for his hand and lacing your small fingers with his and squeezing. “I’ll take care of you, if you’ll let me.”

#my hero academia #mha #hawks #takami keigo #hawks x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #mha fic #mha hawks #bnha hawks #bnha writing #reader insert #bnha reader insert #hawks x you #bunny scribbles

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noordledoordle · 4 years

Photo

“There are fundamental things about ourselves that we know to be true. It's important to remember those things when you find yourself in a tough situation, or you need to make a decision from the heart, but it's equally important to know that you can surprise yourself, too...”

Novel-sized post under the cut:

I don’t say much on my art posts or on Tumblr in general, but as we’re in the home stretch before SU leaves forever, I thought I’d leave a bit of commentary for the five people who may happen across this.

I started watching the original series a couple weeks after Friend Ship aired in 2015, mostly because I love MST3K’s Joel Hodgson and heard he was playing Mayor Dewey. I know it’s a common refrain that you have to sort of “endure” SU up to Mirror Gem, but that was not the case for me. The kookiness, the gentle nature of the characters, the overarching mystery of the setting - SU had me hooked right off the bat.

I loved all the characters (and I still love all the characters! Even if Ronaldo is best left as a background role and Resident Plot Oracle), but I was especially fascinated by Steven. Outwardly, he was as laid-back as his dad, and seemingly took a lot of stuff in stride, even his odd living situation. And every time a Big Reveal happened that re-contextualized the episodes prior, he would react a little bit in the moment, but never too much. Like clockwork, this pattern kept repeating itself. He would continually focus outward on the immediate problem or person in front of him, and get deeply emotional for their issues instead of his own. He’d also get emotional for surface-issue things, like Cookie Cats and snakes.

I found that odd. And intriguing. At first I figured it was just a narrative device since he was the MC and my window into the world of SU, but it happened so often that I finally got suspicious. What was it going to take for this kid to really express himself? He was so good at getting others to open up, why couldn’t he do it, too? Yes, he had times and even a couple episodes where he’d tip his hand for a bit and show something deeper, but they were oh-so-fleeting.

As I started watching the remaining S2 and S3 episodes as they came out, this pattern kept up. The layers of the world and its characters slowly unwrapped, but Steven stubbornly kept to himself and was mostly content to point the audience away from him. (Not a bad thing, narratively, as the stuff with Peridot and the latter half of S3 were wild rides!) Back then, I felt pretty alone in giving a shit about him as a character when it seemed a lot of others didn’t, but, dammit, he was my favorite little mystery regardless and I just hoped his reticence was going somewhere, especially as the show’s stakes got higher and higher.

Sweet, sweet vindication came when Mindful Education aired. The second he started giving terrible advice to Connie, I knew we were finally due to for a good look into his brain. And then came the butterfly on the sword, and well, everything else. Yeah, he’d dropped enough breadcrumbs prior to Mindful Education implying he was proper fucked up about his identity, but this was a whole loaf of fresh French bread. It was now clear beyond any shadow of a doubt that Steven was bottling up the majority of his issues and probably had been from the start.

I mean, damn, the Pink Diamond reveal? Amethyst couldn’t drag more than a couple grumpy lines out of him over pizza, and like most things Rose related, was more about his feelings towards her than what that meant for him. When he flipped out at a hologram of his mom or cried for his dad, his family wasn’t present to hear his inner thoughts. Regardless, after CYM happened and he’d resolved his identity crisis, I was content enough that they’d acknowledged his constant deflection and almost tyrannical need to help others as character flaws and would have been fine with what we got as an ending. Still, there was a lot about Steven that had been left unsaid, and I was excited to see was S6 was gonna be about...

And then the movie and SUF came along, and I swear to God I don’t even know what to do with all this vindication. Rebecca Sugar may as well have beamed into my living room and screamed “LOOK HERE ARE 20 EPISODES OF CONTENT TAILOR-MADE JUST FOR YOU.” Finally, they’re really unwrapping the mystery of our main character. They’re tearing him apart right down to the core of tragic nougat at the center of his being.

So, anyway, here we are at the lowest point of Steven’s long story. He’s burned King’s Landing. He’s crossed the Rubicon. My son, my boy, has shut out everyone he loves and has an honest-to-goodness kill count, and it can’t be justified by saying he was backed into a corner or that he was fighting to protect someone. He didn’t mean to shatter Jasper, but it’s clear he meant to hurt her.

I was always adamant that he’d never shatter anyone, but now that he has, I get why.

Steven is all about that duality. He’s human and Gem, burdened with Special Magical Destiny yet supposedly free to choose his own human path. The closer he gets to discovering his future, the deeper he has to dig into the past. He’s a cute little critter who can quietly drool on himself while napping on a road trip and also an angry teenager frustrated over a life he never had. He’s trapped between reality and facade - all those healing Rose-style powers he worked so hard to get in the original series were a cover for something older, more ancient, more destructive. And, most pertinent to Fragments - he adores soft things like romance and weddings, yet also values tough things like strength and power.

And he’s having trouble walking the tightrope between all these contradictions. When it comes to power, for example, he loves gaining new powers in order to feel useful to his family, but, in fights where he isn’t pink, he’ll always stop just short of using them to their fullest and stay on the defensive as long as he can possibly get away with it. He’ll even apologize or warn his opponent if he tries to do something big. He’ll nearly always fall on the side of softness over power, but the power is still very much there, if unused. And even up to this last episode, he’d always stop just short of going full feral even when he was pink. Part of this is because Steven is a good kiddo at heart, but also afraid of what he can do to someone unchecked.

And now, here at a bad point in Steven’s life when he’s loaded up with PTSD and cut off from his usual support, Jasper (who is also...going through some things) gives him permission to indulge in the sort of thing he’s avoided since that day he summoned a shield with an ice cream bar. She tells him to not hide a part of himself, so for just this fucking once, he lets go. The ecstasy of battle overtakes him. He doesn’t tap into the soft, rounded Rose-style powerset for even a second. No bubbles, no shield, just that raw diamond geometry. And when he gets to the moment of the KO, there’s no stopping, no break to talk things out, no “yo watch out!” He even pins her down to make damn sure she can’t get away. It’s a surprising facet of Steven we have never seen, but it’s still absolutely him, just another one of those parts he squirrels away out of view. He didn’t need that “training” at all... it was always there.

When he told Jasper he’d been holding back, he meant it. He’s been holding back for years, in so many ways.

#steven universe #steven universe future #my art #steven universe spoilers #steven quartz universe

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shitty-marvel-fan732 · 4 years

Text

Jealous of a Kitten

Author's Note:

Hey y'all! So I was b l o w n away by the response to my last Loki x Reader oneshot, so I thought I'd give writing for him another go! I've had this fic in my drafts since literally last year lmao. If you end up liking it, I'd love a like, reblog, or comment to let me know! And if anyone wants to request something for Loki or any other MCU characters, feel free to send me a message and let me know! As always big thanks to @twentytwohearts for their help reading and helping out with this fic!

Y/N POV:

“Good heavens mortal, haven’t you got anything else to occupy your time besides pestering me?” Loki grumbled affectionately from his place on the sofa. He was reclined comfortably on the couch, back pressed up to my front as he rested in between my bent legs. My hands were tangled within his inky black locks, fingers lazily scratching through his hair as I braided small sections. I grinned widely.

“Nope!” I replied cheekily, ensuring to overexaggeratedly pop the “p” at the end. “Cap gave me the rest of the day off from training, so you’re blessed with my presence all day, snowball."

The prince sighed melodramatically as he turned a page in the book currently resting on his lap.

“I wouldn’t exactly describe it as a blessing pet” he remarked dryly. His tone was nonchalant, but I could hear the small smile in his words despite his clear efforts to seem passive.

“Oh please, we both know you love when I ‘annoy’ you." I rolled my eyes with a giggle. Loki merely hummed in response as he continued to read whatever tome had caught his attention this afternoon. Deciding to mess with him a bit, I removed my hands from his now-wavy tresses.

“Or maybe not?” I pouted, feigning hurt and leaning my chest away from his body. He stilled slightly with his fingers paused mid page turn. His back tensed just a bit, and I could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to decipher whether or not I was serious. Though he only panicked a moment or two, it was enough to make me silently delight in having seemingly tricked the god of mischief. He huffed childishly, his hand grabbing mine quickly and placing it back on his head.

My smile widened so far at his reaction I was almost fearful it may actually split my face in two. He didn't say anything, but was certain Loki could feel the satisfaction coming off of me in waves. Even though I'd known from the beginning, it was nice to be reminded just how content he was to be entangled with me for the moment. He could pretend all he wanted, but I knew something about the lanky god that most people didn't.

He was a huge cuddle-bug.

As stiff and regal as he presented himself most of the time, he never failed to make it known just how much he adored physical contact with me. I'd even go so far as to consider him touch-starved when we'd first met. I mean, it made sense. He was a prince and the only meaningful contact he'd probably experienced came from those that used to help him dress or bathe. The thought of him going for so long -- literally thousands of years -- without the affectionate touch of another living being made me genuinely teary. Once we'd established ourselves as a couple, he instantly became a constant presence at my side. It didn't matter the situation nor the company surrounding us, if he was in the same room as I was he would gravitate towards me. Whether it was a hand resting across the small of my back or fingers linked firmly through mine, he always found some way to initiate some kind of physical touch. I was more than thrilled at his open displays of affection -- even after months of time spent together I still felt the delicious ripples of electricity run through me each time his skin met mine.

Moments like today's were rare. Days when neither of us had any obligations or work to be done, when we could just spend time with one another. Sweet, domestic slices of life when we could just cuddle close to one another and pretend for a moment that all the struggles of the world were gone. I sighed softly as we lapsed back into comfortable silence, both of us content to simply be in one another's presence.

But, as always, no peaceful moments around here could last that long.

Peter came bursting through the door, looking even more flustered than usual. Which, for him, was saying something. He was wearing his suit sans the mask, carrying a giant throw blanket, with his brown curls mussed wildly and eyes desperately searching the room. He spotted Loki and I fairly quickly. A brief look of relief passed over the young boy's features as he rushed over to where we laid.

"Hey guys, uhm I could use some help," he blurted breathlessly once he reached the couch. I chuckled, amused by the poor flustered teen.

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Loki grumbled from his place between my legs. I didn't need to see his face to know exactly his expression. Clearly he was annoyed to have our peaceful moment interrupted, and I would bet money that he was scowling at Peter as a result. Frowning slightly, I pinched the back of his arm in reprimand.

"OUCH," he exclaimed dramatically. His arm darted out of my reach, the other hand coming out to rub the sore spot childishly. "What on Earth was that for?"

"Leave him alone snowball, he clearly needs something," I scolded lightly. He huffed once more, settling back into my legs and turning his attention back to his book and grumbling inaudibly. I rolled my eyes.

Peter's eyes went slightly wider as they darted between Loki and I. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the raven-haired Asgardian when he was actually behaving, and given Loki's current grumpy demeanor he seemed especially on-edge. I smiled brightly, hoping to ease his discomfort.

"What's up Peter?"

His eyes darted back to mine suddenly, relief overtaking his face at the save.

"So I was just out, ya know like patrolling, and I was helping this old Italian lady. She was carrying all this stuff right -- and I obviously figured I would try to help -- but she didn't speak English. She was like kinda mad at first and she hit me a couple times, cause I think she thought I was trying to rob her, but eventually we got everything sorted and got all her stuff back to her super old car and --" Peter rambled, words slurring together with that inhuman speed that only teenagers could seem to muster. My brows furrowed in confusion and I lifted my hands up like a criminal surrendering.

"Whoa WHOA Spiderling, take a breath man." I chuckled good-naturedly. The teen's face flushed slightly at my interruption.

"Sorry. Right. Sorry." he mumbled. "Anyways, so I finally get all her stuff in her car, and she just leaned into me and patted my head. I was gonna swing away, but she handed me this and drove away."

He gestured to the large blanket in his gloved hands. My brows furrowed.

"Okayyyyy," I drawled, still confused as to the issue. "And you're mad she gave you an afghan because…?"

His eyes sparked with realization, mouth forming an 'O'.

"Oh no, no that's not it. I mean that is pretty weird, like why would I need a blanket in the first place. Maybe she thought I looked cold or something, but --"

"Norns, child!" Loki interrupted. He shut his book with a snap, abruptly shifting positions on the couch so he was sitting upright. "Could you perhaps get to the point sometime this century?"

I slapped his arm disapprovingly -- he scowled at me, stubbornly scooting further from me in silent protest. I turned my attention back to Peter with a soft smile. I nodded at the red-faced teen, waving a hand in indication that he should continue.

"Right. Sorry Mr. Loki. Uhm, so anyways, she gave me this and I don't exactly know what to do with it," he finished. He opened the chunky-knit blanket to reveal the smallest, fuzziest kitten I'd ever seen. The kitten was tiny, no bigger than my fist, fur matted and full of tufts of orange and white hair. As soon as Peter opened the blanket the small kitten blinked it's tiny eyes against the harsh light. Adorable high pitched squeaks came from the teeny cat, who was clearly displeased with the sudden disturbance to it's sleep.

I gasped, my heart practically melting at the sight. I stood suddenly, hands reaching out unconsciously and making grabby motions towards the adorable creature. Peter readily complied, gently transferring the mewling baby over to my awaiting grasp. I cradled the little cat delicately, blanket and all, against my chest and cooed soft, unintelligible words of affection. My hands instantly found a spot behind the kitten's ears and began scratching lightly. The kitten responded positively, nuzzling into my touch readily and purring loudly at the attention. My heart felt like it was positively melting at the sights, sounds, and feel of the small animal in my arms.

"It's so cute," I gushed, though whether it was to myself or the guys I wasn't even sure. I finally managed to tear my gaze from the cat when I heard a quiet growl come from Loki's direction.

He was in his same spot on the couch, but I could instantly tell he was annoyed, even without the little grumble. His posture was rigid, hands sitting atop his legs balled into fists, and eyes suddenly dark with anger. Only moments before his face had seemed soft, the sharp planes and angles relaxed as we'd sat together. Now his expression was stony -- the stern mask of irritation he so often wore back with a vengeance. I was momentarily distracted from the small creature in my arms. Twinges of worry and the impulse to comfort him planted low in my belly ran through me at the sight.

"He is cute," Peter's voice interrupted, clearly oblivious to Loki's abrupt mood shift. "At least I think it's a he? Anyways I can't bring him home, May is allergic to cats and anyways I don't think they're allowed in my building. I was kind of hoping you could watch him for a while?"

"Absolutely n--"

"Of course!"

Loki's head snapped up towards mine as we spoke at the same time, his scowl deepening at my response. I furrowed my brows in confusion, slightly surprised at his aggressive reaction. Peter's eyes bounced from my face to Loki's -- the awkwardness radiating from him as he shifted from foot to foot.

"Can you not just take it to a shelter or something of that nature?" Loki seethed, glaring at the poor teen. Peter was clearly flustered by the question -- red creeped up his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort.

"Well, see, I tried that! I did, but they told me he's too young for them to take -- cause he's just a baby -- and they can't take him," he stuttered. "Plus, they said they've got too many animals right now, and if he doesn't get adopted soon then they might have to...you know…"

I gasped, instinctively tugging the now-sleeping kitten closer to my chest. Loki shrugged, nonplussed.

"So?" he questioned. "That is what happens to unneeded animals on this realm, yes?"

My jaw dropped and I frowned disapprovingly at Loki. I knew he could still be, shall we say, difficult at times; though he was definitely on his way to being 'rehabilitated', old habits die hard and he often still struggled with concepts like compassion and kindness. Particularly when it came to anyone or anything that wasn't, well, me. Even still, how someone could look at the tiny creature in my arms without feeling the warm, protective emotions that I did baffled me.

"We are NOT sending this poor baby to be killed!" I stage whispered the last part, glaring at Loki and cradling the kitten protectively against my chest. "Good lord Loki, just look at him!"

I held the small orange cat down slightly, revealing it's angelic sleeping face to the scowling god. He glanced at the kitten briefly before turning his attention back to me and quirking a brow.

"I have." he stated plainly, voice laced with poorly concealed contempt. I scowled at him and stuck my tongue out childishly before turning back to Peter.

"Ignore him Pete, of course we'll take care of him." I reassured the flustered teen. Peter's young face instantly flooded with relief and he mumbled a muffled 'thanks!' as he rushed back out of the room.

Smiling and chuckling, I turned back towards the couch where Loki still sat. His facial expression remained annoyed and he'd crossed his arms tensely against his chest. I couldn't help but giggle outwardly at his pout; he looked like a child who's toy had been taken away. Though I found his pouty face adorable, I still found it slightly infuriating that it was over the innocent little bundle in my arms. My obvious amusement only caused his scowl to deepen and he scooched over further from me as I sat in my previous spot on the plush couch.

"Somebody's a bit crabby," I stage whispered to the still sleeping kitten. Loki scoffed.

"I am not 'crabby' pet," he grumbled. "I simply don't understand your fascination with this little creature.”

I chuckled, the noise hollow and closer to a scoff than anything. I rolled my eyes before turning my attention back to the small kitten in my arms. He began to stir lightly, stretching out his tiny limbs and squeaking out the most adorable yawn before turning his attention to Loki and I. His small eyes appraised the two of us with a kind of innocent curiosity. Eventually he deemed us safe enough, and he began to slowly venture out from the confines of his blanket. As he tentatively explored my lap and the small section of couch that separated Loki and I, I felt my face split into a wide smile. Warm, happy feelings blossomed in my chest at the sight of the curious creature.

"What's your name gonna be, huh?" I cooed to the small, exploring cat. "Are you a Tom or more of a Finn hmmm?"

Loki rolled his eyes, face never leaving his book.

"How about blot?" he suggested plainly. His tone was even, controlled, and even though his lips didn't quirk up even the slightest bit at his suggestion I was wholly suspicious instantly. Sending a frown his way, I replied quickly.

"Dare I even ask what that means?" I quipped warily. His eyes flashed momentarily to my face as he shrugged. Even with the briefest glance I could see the tell-tale spark of mischief in his eyes. Rolling my own eyes in exasperation, I turned my attention back towards the small tabby and ran my fingers across his back.

"Hmm, what else?" I pondered out loud. "How about Tigger? You look a lot like Tigger."

The tiny cat purred louder at my words, curling around my hand as I spoke. Encouraged, I scratched his fur a little harder.

"You like that huh? Alright, Tigger it is!"

A quiet scoff came from the other end of the couch. To my utter confusion, Loki was still radiating complete and total annoyance from his place across from me. He sat tensely in the opposite corner of the couch with his boots tucked petulantly beneath him and his body angled as far from mine as gravity would allow. His head was bowed down slightly, his attention seemingly directed back to his book. Despite his best efforts, I could tell that he was only idly paying any attention to the words on the page. Gone was the smooth look of contentment that had graced his beautiful features mere minutes before; his face was once more a cold veil of poorly concealed contempt as he feigned reading. The look, though common to the rest of the world, was troubling to me. It’d taken months, but I thought I’d broken through the raven-haired god’s stony exterior. The sudden return of the stern facial expression caused pangs of concern and sympathy to prod at me from within. I reached a hand out instinctively to grasp his hand in mine, determined to display my silent support.

Despite his ‘silvertongue’ reputation, Loki often struggled to verbalize feelings of anything other than contempt, rage, or disgust. I’d learned quickly that often he didn’t need me to attempt to discuss anything he wasn’t ready for -- rather it seemed the best way to comfort him in these times was a physical show of my presence and affection.

This time was no different, and though his head barely moved an inch I could instantly feel the way he calmed under my touch. The muscles in his hand immediately relaxed as he moved to twine his long fingers between mine. His tense expression softened, although only fractionally as he grasped my hand. He turned his attention from his book slowly, deep blue eyes turning to meet my worried gaze.

"Hey, talk to me snowflake," I demanded softly. "What's going on?"

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but a small mewl cut him off before he could speak. I glanced down and giggled lightly at the sight of the small orange tabby beneath us. The tiny kitten had wandered down the couch and was currently sitting mere inches away from our intertwined hands with a curious look overtaking his small face. Evidently he wasn't quite pleased to have the attention taken from him so quickly, and he reached a paw out tentatively to hover above our hands. Eventually deciding it was safe, the small cat placed a paw over the tops of our hands, eyes darting between Loki and I with a kind of content curiosity that made my heart practically melt.

Loki, quite obviously did not share these feelings, and withdrew his hand instantly. His face was once more overtaken by a deep scowl as he snapped his book shut and swiftly stood. He turned curtly and exited the room without another word. My eyes followed him as he left, brows furrowed with concern and confusion. Tigger, meanwhile, was clinging to my chest by his tiny claws, his heart beating with an insane speed. He was clearly scared by Loki's sudden moves and general demeanor, and I cooed soft words of comfort to the small creature. My eyes never left the door though, thoughts of interest and concern overtaking my mind as I wondered what exactly had gotten into my raven-haired companion today.

A few days later

Loki's POV

Sweet giggles filled the halls of the tower as I walked towards Y/N's room. A small smile overtook my features as the sound filtered through my ears. Typically I found midgardians irritating and their laughter grating, but as was almost always the case, Y/N was an exception. Y/N simply radiated happiness at every turn, and over the past weeks the sound of her infectious laugh had become one of my favorite sounds. Her mere presence had the uncanny ability to both calm and excite me at once, and I'd grown progressively more fond of my time spent with her in a way that baffled me and those around us.

In fact, the past few days had proven increasingly difficult for just that reason. Y/N and I had spent less time together as of late -- a fact that saddened and irritated me in near equal parts. For the past few days I’d found myself yearning for more time with my dear mortal, having been separated by the rather irritating presence of a certain small animal. Ever since the young Spiderchild had thrust a stray cat into Y/N's care she had been wholly and utterly enamored with the useless pet. She doted on the feline, which she'd dubbed 'Tigger', and spent nearly all of her time either caring for, amusing, or simply fawning over it.

It was becoming rather taxing.

At first, once I had begrudgingly accepted that the cat wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, I'd attempted to simply ignore it and go about our time as usual. It was only a day or two before that notion was entirely dismissed. Each time I made such an attempt Tigger had made his presence unmistakably clear. The loathsome, needy thing seemed to share my desire to be near Y/N, and was constantly sitting on or pawing at her. And even the precious few moments in which it wasn't physically touching Y/N it took to mewling and crying until she gave in and picked it up. I hadn’t had a single moment with Y/N in which we were truly alone for days, and I was reaching my breaking point.

As I finally reached Y/N’s room and entered, the smile that the sound of her laughter had put on my face immediately turned to a scowl. Inside the room was Y/N, beautiful as ever, sitting casually on her bed. The sight, which normally would have filled my stomach with a tiny stir of happiness, was marred with the unwelcomed addition of a certain small kitten. The wretched thing was sitting in between her legs, happily jumping and pawing at the toy she waved above him. She was looking over the stupid pet with such fondness in her eyes -- a look which I'd once thought was reserved only for me. Irritation overtook my senses at the sight, and I couldn’t help the scoff of annoyance that came from me.

Y/N looked up at the sound, initial confusion turning to excitement as she realized my presence. My own feelings of resentment faded marginally at the sight of her beautiful features lighting up with a smile of genuine happiness at the sight of me.

"Hiya Snowball!" she greeted me excitedly, rushing up from her place on her bed and striding up to where I stood. She tucked herself into the fold of my arms easily, her head resting comfortably against my chest and her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I sighed lightly, my own arms winding around her relatively smaller frame and my face coming to rest against the top of her head.

"Hello my love," I murmured lightly into the crown of her head, placing a sweet kiss in my wake before burying my nose in the soft hairs there. She hummed softly in contentment, and we stayed in this position for some time. It could've been moments, minutes, hours -- I was never quite aware of the passing of time when I was with Y/N like this. I was wholly encased in the safe little bubble that only her presence seemed to create. I was surrounded by her: the unique scent wafting from her hair, the feel of her body melding against mine, and the soft thumping of her heart against my chest that provided the ideal background music for our calm moment together. I was completely entranced by our embrace, all feelings of irritation gone for the moment.

But only for the moment.

The sound of tiny cries and the feeling of a small body thumping and winding its way across our ankles broke through the peace we'd established like a freight engine. Y/N's chuckle vibrated low against my chest before she pulled herself out of my arms to peer down at the kitten. Annoyance seared through my body as she detangled herself from me and squatted down to scoop the needy thing into her arms. She stood up once more, cradling the spoiled little creature in her arms and scratching its face with her long slender fingers.

"Someone wants a hug too, huh?" she cooed playfully to the cat. My frown deepened at her soft tone, the same tone she often spoke to me with -- the small, loving voice that had crooned to me during late nights or early morning moments spent wrapped in one another's embrace. The same tone that never ceased to comfort me or make me feel as if she was possibly the only person to truly love me. The sound that I treasured so dearly was now being directed to a lowly, disgusting animal. It sent a wave of rage through my entire being like a white hot flame.

"Norns Y/N!" I snapped. "Can we not have a single moment without the presence of this...this animal?"

Her eyes widened as she took in my words, brows practically flying upwards in surprise and hands stilling against Tigger's face. Her wide eyes blinked a few times in complete shock as she surveyed my face carefully.

"I'm sorry?" she questioned confusedly. I exhaled loudly in irritation, arms coming to rest across my chest in a display of my annoyance.

"Does it not bother you that we've not spent a moment together, alone, since the creature was forced upon you?" I questioned, tone acidic and face a stone mask of anger. Her brow furrowed deeper in confusion briefly before a wave of understanding flooded her eyes. Expression softening, she set the kitten down lightly onto the floor before crossing the few steps required to reach me once more. Though her eyes held nothing but concern and understanding within the deep Y/E/C irises, her face had the tiniest hint of a smirk.

"Well I'd ask if it bothered you snowflake, but it seems that may be redundant at this point," she replied to my earlier question with ease. Her soft hands reached up towards me and wrapped easily around the back of my neck. Almost of their own accord, my own hands found the curve of her waist and held her firmly. In lieu of a response I simply scowled in her direction. She chuckled lightly, and propped herself up on her toes briefly to place a gentle kiss on my cheek before she led me over to her bed and motioned for me to sit. I complied, albeit somewhat begrudgingly, and she ensured we were settled against the head of the mattress before she spoke again.

"Loki, are you...jealous of Tigger?" she questioned. Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but the ghost of a smirk still lingered on her face. I felt my face flood with heat, and though I'd like to blame the color on anger I was certain she could tell that I was embarrassed. Though she was largely correct, I was struck with the ridiculousness of the statement as I heard it tumble from her lips. Glancing away from her expectant gaze I mumbled out a response, though I wasn't entirely sure what it was.

Her gentle fingers moved slightly around my head, delicately stroking the skin of my neck and face until her soft palms rested against the sides of my face. She applied the gentlest pressure to my cheek, forcing me to look her in the eyes once more. I reluctantly complied.

"Because if you are," she continued. "I'm sure I'd have to tell you just how insane that is. Outside of the fact that Tigger is a cat and you are my not-so-human boyfriend, the idea that there's anyone or anything I'd want to spend time with more than you is just completely inaccurate. He's a baby, and he needs a lot of my attention that's all. Since you haven't been coming around much I just assumed you were busy with other things lately -- never once did it cross my mind that I was the reason I hadn't seen you much."

I felt my furrowed brows relax slightly. Stupid and petty as my feelings may be, I couldn't deny that hearing such reassurances straight from the one person I truly cared for had taken away a considerable amount of unease from my mind. I exhaled a long breath and shifted unconsciously deeper into Y/N's hold.

"Regardless I'm truly, very sorry that I made you think I was choosing something else over you. I would never want to hurt you like that, or make you feel like you aren't the most important person in my life."

Her worried gaze was still locked firmly on my face as she spoke. Though the majority of my chest was filled with a feeling of relief from her admission, there was a twinge of guilt lurking deep within my stomach. I often forgot just how caring and gentle Y/N could be and this may have been one such occasion. Of course she latched onto the feeble creature -- was that not what she did with me as well? It was simply a part of her nature to care for the weak or disadvantaged.

I frowned once more as my mind reeled with the realization of my own selfishness. Y/N clearly mistook my expression however, and I could see the guilt in her eyes as she spoke up once more.

"I can ask Peter if there anyway he can watch him for a bit, maybe just give us some time alone. Or maybe --"

"No." I cut her off abruptly once again. Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she opened her mouth to reply. My own finger came up to her face fast as lightning to silence what would undoubtedly be more apologies.

"Dearest, clearly the fault is not on your end in this case," I started, hoping to ease her mind. "We both know I often, shall we say, struggle with expressing my thoughts at times. Of course you wish to care for the kitten, just as you care for everything in your life. I was wrong to assume your affections were completely diverted and for not mentioning my feelings sooner. For both, I am truly sorry."

Her expression softened at my apologies, face relaxing under my hand as I spoke. She smiled a small grin of appreciation before thrusting herself forward and deeper into my arms. I let out a small 'oomf' at the force of her body attaching to mine, but regardless my arms wound their way around her frame and I cradled her to my chest. She sighed in contentment, and we stayed in this position for a few moments before I felt her chuckle against my body. I pulled my head back just enough to give her a questioning look.

"I'm sorry," she giggled, face alight with mischief and glee. "Did the big, fearsome Loki just say he was sorry?"

However unintentionally I felt my face heat up once more, although this time it wasn't from anger. I rolled my eyes lightly before smirking down at Y/N's smiling face.

"If I were you, I'd mark this day down in your memory, as it isn't likely to be said again anytime soon," came my dry response.

I heard Y/N's melodious giggle from where her face was pressed against my body, sending delicious sparks of happiness across my frame. Outside of that, her only response to my statement was nuzzling deeper into my body -- a welcome action that I easily reciprocated. My eyelids closed as we settled ourselves into a comfortable silence, content to simply be in one another's presence. I hummed, utterly at peace with my current position, when I heard a tiny mewl from nearby.

Opening just one eye, I saw a curious little face near mine. Tigger had evidently decided it was now safe enough to venture close to where Y/N and I laid. He was pawing hesitantly back and forth across my lap, eyes assessing me with tentative curiosity as he made tiny circles around my stomach. I chuckled at the feeling of his impossibly tiny paws kneading my lower belly as he settled into a lying position. Y/N opened her eyes at my amused chuckle and shot me a sheepish grin.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I can take him somewhere else. I think Peter's around, he'd probably watch him for a bit."

I shook my head, placing a small kiss to her forehead and placing a hand on Tigger's ears.

"It's alright love. I meant what I said when I was sorry -- he didn't do anything wrong, he simply wishes to be around you as much as possible. Obviously, that is a trait we both share, and I think I could expend a bit more energy in attempting to bond with Tigger." I answered genuinely. The kitten purred loudly in response, inching his body further up my chest until he was resting just beside Y/N's face. He closed his eyes sleepily, and curled into my body constantly as he slept.

Y/N grinned widely, her lovely face alight with such genuine love and glee that I was taken aback at her beauty. She placed a sweet kiss to my lips in thanks before returning to her place on my chest. I closed my eyes once more, smile firmly in place as I lied quietly and revelled in the peaceful moment.

Taglist: @grahoundart

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carnistcervine · 4 years

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My Take on VaatuAvatar!Katara

Haha, totes borrowed this awesome as hell idea from @paragonrobits :'D

So here's my take on VaatuAvatar!Katara!

-Vaatu doesn't generally consider himself interested in mortal issues.

-Or generally interested in anything outside of the dark, twisting branches of his own realm.

-He's a recluse, only occasionally sought out by mortals looking commit some kind of atrocity.

-He's turned them all down, though. He doesn't care. He genuinely doesn't care enough about the mortal realm either way to indulge them.

-That's not to say that it doesn't frustrate him to no end that the others always assumed the worst about him.

-No, he doesn't want to rip the universe into pieces so you can reform it in your own image, fuck off.

-He's quite content nestled in his own little corner of the spirit world, watching the twisting, living, dying, undying, thorns and branches fractal and spiral into the endless dark.

-No, he's not depressed and complacent after being bullied by Raava for eons, fuck off.

-And no, he does not have ANGER ISSUES RAAVA, FU- stop it.

-All that being said, he can't help but be a little curious. He's been wondering what the human has done after fusing with Raava.

-Did she finally implement the perfect order she had always tried to achieve by bullying Vaatu?

-Well no, there are eras and peace and eras of chaos, but maybe she's learned that it's less to do with him personally and more to do with just the world working how it works. Or something. He doesn't care.

-Okay maybe he cares a little when she suddenly drops out of the world.

-Her energy seemingly having vanished without a trace.

-He gets a thought, why not try the whole Avatar thing for himself?

-Maybe show Raava a thing or two about how balance is kept. After all, she let the world crash and burn when she decided to go poof.

-He mulls it over for a while, the state of the world growing exponentially worse.

-It's only been a 100 years by the time he attaches himself to a human infant.

-100 years is barely anything and these morons have already wrought so much destruction on the world.

-Vaatu bonds to the spirit of the infant Katara when she is born into the world.

-Nothing spectacular happens, and no one suspects a thing.

-When infant Katara is alone, he appears to her. She's curious about the world she is newly experiencing. He is curious about the new life he has anchored himself to.

-He rants at her, not expecting sympathy or any kind of reply or acknowledgement. But just to complain and air out his own grievances.

-The tiny baby and soon toddler would just wordlessly grab his tendrils in her tiny and chubby hands and flail about, yanking as hard as she can.

-Normally, he'd be enraged by such disrespect, but he cannot find it in himself to feel any hatred towards his vessel.

-He assumes it's their shared connection.

-Yes, that must be it.

-When she starts to speak words, she calls him a shadow blanket. But mostly just blanket.

-Vaatu finds himself, endeared, by the nickname.

-Katara calls Vaatu "Blanket", Vaatu ends up calling Katara "Larva"

-After all, she's just as chubby and squishy.

-He grows fond of her, finding himself wanting to care for and protect her above all else.

-When she fears her dreams, he coils around her. Shielding her with his darkness.

-But still, for the other meat suits that parade around her, he cares not.

-They mean nothing to him.

-Not even the humans he learns to be of the same familial group as her.

-Vaatu finds that he doesn't quite understand families. Sure, he understands more-or-less the function of human and other animal groupings. It ensures survival.

-But why so close? What's the point to all this? What's the difference between these humans and some other humans?

-Vaatu comes to a conclusion that mortals are strange.

-Vaatu and Katara grow only closer as she grows up.

-When Katara first shows her bending ability he feels the same swell of pride that she does.

-And when there is no one to teach her, no one to share such a profound gift with, he feels something he does not recognize at the time but comes to understand later. He feels pain.

-So when she is forced to practice alone, he helps her. He tries, in his own way to help her understand the nature of water.

-How it flows and moves, and settles, and rises. The chaotic nature of the ocean, and the constant shifting balance of the tides.

-When Sokka messes with, teases, and is generally an older brother to Katara, Vaatu puffs up a bit. But Katara just rolls with it, she doesn't get mad, she plays along with him.

-Even when she does genuinely get angry with him, it's much too shallow and quickly forgiven for Vaatu to grasp onto. He doesn't understand. Why doesn't she throttle him?

-Her answer "Because he's my brother" doesn't get Vaatu any closer to a real understanding.

-Then, the black snow falls. Vaatu is prepared for the human woman, Kya to simply give up his Avatar to protect her own life.

-He did not see her sacrifice coming.

-Frankly, he's baffled by it. Why would she give herself up to protect another's life?

-He finds that he wants to know, even if he's not sure how to go about figuring it out.

-Slowly the years go on, he learns to better appreciate the human that Katara insists is called Sokka.

-To Vaatu though, he will always be Idiot Larva.

-Sometimes Katara comes to Vaatu for wisdom, and he'll ramble about the universe. Very often going off on wild tangents that always somehow lead back to his main point.

-He can tell that she's pretty lost in what he's saying, but she keeps asking him, so she must be getting something out of it.

-Even though Vaatu would never admit it, he has come to see Katara and Sokka as his own.

-There is no mercy to save this world if ANYTHING were to happen to either of them.

-No one and nothing short of Raava herself would be able to stop his destructive rage.

-Of course, Vaatu can also sense such a rage simmering within Katara. But she holds back.

-Vaatu figures that she doesn't want to unleash it upon those who were also the victims of what fuels her rage. But when the time comes for it, for her to hurt the Fire Nation, he really doesn't understand why she refuses to let loose.

-Of course, Aang/Raava wakes up eventually and comes face to face with Katara.

-While Aang and Katara have a cute first meeting moment, Raava and Vaatu have a Spiderman meme moment.

-Aang and Katara are absolutely oblivious to the two cats staring each other down energy that Raava and Vaatu radiate at one another.

-When Sokka kicks Aang out of the village, Vaatu pushes Katara to leave her village. As he feels no attachment to anyone other than Sokka and sees her getting a grasp on waterbending as much more important.

-Vaatu does not understand though, why she and Aang especially come back when Zuko attacks them.

-He REALLY doesn't understand why Aang allows himself to be taken if the village is spared.

-Poor Vaatu, for quite a bit of book one, he's just floundered by humans acting selflessly.

-However, when Aang finds Monk Gyatso's remains, he finally starts to understand the importance and true meaning of family. He also understands and even empathizes with the rage that Aang feels. He empowers Katara to walk through the raging windstorm(planting the seeds of he developing airbending) so that she may connect with him and ease his pain.

-He can't deny though, that it's strange for him to be the one trying to soothe Raava.

-He never realized that she could feel that way about anything.

-I don't exactly have everything planned out in my head, but I do know that book 1 would be Katara learning air and Aang learning water.

-Why? Because reverse elemental order for the win, and because parallels.

-I also know that I want Katara to figure out somehow that's she's also an Avatar sometime between The Blue Spirit, and The Northern Air temple.

-And like, have her figure it out, because she straight up starts airbending.

-Like, I love you Katara but you can be 'blivious sometimes.

-And also the fun/drama of WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME I WAS ALSO AN AVATAR?

-With Vaatu just bein like. Well, ya never asked.

-And then, there's also the fact that he has no idea what he's doing, but shhhhhh.

-Also Aang seeing Katara and her spirit talking to each other and getting sad and jealous and wheedling Raava into talking to him.

-Though for Raava, this is Serious(TM) and she doesn't want to play games, there's balance to re-establish.

-Even if Raava would prefer for Vaatu to go back to the little corner she bullied him into, as long as her ends are established, she's fine with leaving him to his own devices.

-Even though she starts out rather detached, she does warm up a lot towards the Gaang once Aang finally gets through to her.

-But literally everyone else still gets the 0* kelvin shoulder.

-The Waterbending Master is the first time that Katara goes into the Avatar state.

-And boy, is it a sight to see, her eyes glow an ominous red, she gains a black, shadowy aura, and Vaatu's voice overtakes her own.

-And well, Vaatu basically comes out to yell at Pakku and bully him into teaching Katara.

-And it works! Kinda.

-The Dark Avatar isn't given the same gravitas as the classic Avatar.

-And uh, well, they there are multiple attempts throughout the story to purge Vaatu from Katara's body. Seeing as her case is more widely seen as something akin to demonic possession(Even though it's literally the same deal as Aang, just with Vaatu instead of Raava and no past lives to back her up)

-For the siege, I'm thinking that Katara is the one to destroy and drive out Zhao's fleet with the power of the ocean spirit.

-And it takes Aang, coming and calming Katara down to bring her to her senses.

-They end up seeking out the Guru together, although their journeys in unlocking their chakras are separate.

-Over all through the story, Vaatu comes to understand love, empathy, and compassion through Katara. Through the Gaang, he learns to understand family and familial bonds.

-He learns that true families are not arbitrary groupings of humans, but groups that hold together through love and shared experiences.

-He's also secretly lonely and gets friends that he'll never admit he wanted.

-Also Raava learns to chill a bit, and be a bit nicer to him.

-That being said, both Raava and Vaatu are still spirits, so their understanding of humans and how the world works will always be flawed and tinted through the lens of them being eternal beings.

-They will never fully understand, but they understand enough.

Whelp that's all I got for now.

This is what happens when you let me over think your ideas. xDD

#ATLA #avatar #Katara #Vaatu #ATLA AU #Chaos Avatar Katara #Thanks again for letting me use this idea #This was really fun xDD #Feel free to yoink any of my brain spillage if it inspires you xDD #My Take

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lorei-writes · 4 years

Text

Cubs

Not Alone

Masamune x MC Modern AU Family AU Fluff (?) Other stories happening within the same AU: Little Tiger , Mommy, we have a problem , Storm

Years passed since Masamune followed his beloved through time and space. Since then, their family grew in size – and being a parent comes with its own set of responsibilities.

Content Warnings: sexual harassment

Masamune tapped on the steering wheel, the slow traffic starting to get on his nerves. The counter next to the green light turned red yet again, another thirty second in the hell itself beginning, the line of cars before him attempting to reach the horizon. He never thought the tailbacks could become more annoying than they already were. Indeed, future knew more than one way to surprise him – as always, at the worst possible time, the call from Iroha's school worrying him.

She always was a lively and stubborn child, a one of sharp wit – and perhaps, a slightly overconfident one as well, all the traits transferring into her teenage years. However, Iroha wasn't impossible to reason with, she certainly never took it upon herself to cause a disturbance to the class just for the sake of it. What could have possibly happen for her form teacher to call Masamune and request his presence? He had no idea. He tried to phone her, yet to no avail, the cheerful voice always asking him to record a message. What was even the point of having a portable communication device if he couldn't reach her when something was definitely wrong? He hoped that Mai had at the very least seen the text from him and didn't rush through her project presentation.

Having passed through the purgatory of the road, Masamune had finally wheeled the vehicle into the parking lot. He exited the car, closing the door maybe a bit too forcefully – he didn't have time to care about that, the white walls of the building waiting for him. He could hear each and every of his steps, the sounds bouncing off the walls, echoing through the surprisingly empty hallways. The familiar feeling resurfaced, all voices nothing but hushed whispers. If he were a cat, he'd arch his back – although he probably wouldn't have to, the students averting their gazes the very moment he caught them staring. He strode towards the principal's office, just to knock on the door and open it seconds later. The old habits still in place, he took a brief note of his surroundings, the unexpected growing in details: a woman, the woman he had seen somewhere else. “ Mr Date, good morning. We had an emergency situation.” “ What happened to Iroha?” “ To? To?!” the woman chimed in, her brows knitting together. “ She almost broke my son's nose!” “ Well, yes,” the principal cleared his throat. “ I wanted to discuss Iroha's behavior and possibly come up with an appropriate punishment. I presume we should also...” “ What exactly happened?” Masamune cut him off. “ She punched my son,” the mother claimed, crossing arms in front of her chest. “ Why?” ” For no reason, of course!” ” Are those my daughter’s words?” he inquired, although he suspected what was the answer. “ That is what was reported by several students.” “ Where is Iroha?”

If anything, he didn't wait for the permission to see his daughter. His hand twitched, the situation slowly clarifying in his mind. Soon, he reached the classroom she was supposed to be in, curious eyes observing him, the gossiping whispers tickling at the back of his neck. He knocked on the door, giving her some time before entering the room.

Iroha looked up from the desk, her eyes red and puffy from crying. He could see a kaleidoscope of emotion sweep over her face – sadness mixed and replaced with relief, tension, guilt and so, so many more. He took a step towards her and she got up abruptly, the chair almost falling over – and so, a second passed and he was hugging her tight, as she cried into his shoulder, her entire body trembling. “ Dad, I'm so, so sorry, I ruined everything, I got in trouble, mom will...” Iroha sobbed, as she inhaled sharply, her voice breaking. “ Shh, kitty, it's all good now. Don't worry about Mai, I texted her that I'll handle this,” he hummed, stroking her hair soothingly. “ But...” “ No buts. Just focus on breathing, okay? I need you to calm down. It's all good now.”

He knew better than to rush her – how long was it since the last time she had wept like that? Could he even count that in months, or was it years? Whatever happened, she was genuinely hurt and he couldn't bring himself to care about anything else at that very moment. No human would cause themselves pain, had they seen another way – surely, she didn't do anything just out of spite. She wasn't so little as not to understand the consequences of her actions anymore.

Finally, she had calmed down enough to let go, stress still coursing through her body. She sat down heavily, the chair creaking from sudden impact, as her father took a seat next to her. „ So, can you tell me what happened?” „ Firstly, whatever they told you, it's not true! I didn't hit him without any reason and his nose didn't even get close to being broken!” Iroha rushed to explain. „ It's fine, kitty, I wanted to hear from you first.” She pressed her lips shut, her fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt, bunching it up in the process. „ Well. We were waiting for the class to begin, I was looking outside the window, minding my own business. I felt my skirt move and the next moment somebody grabbed my bottom,” she stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath. „ So, I turned around. I saw this guy from my class crouched down behind me. I asked him what the fuck he was even thinking, but...He got up and started laughing, said I shouldn't have been daydreaming so much. And I punched him in the face.” „ Were there any teachers around?” „ Yeah, but the moment I looked at her, she looked away,” Iroha uttered, her voice threatening to break again. Her knuckles turned white, as her grip tightened. „ But she rushed to us when I punched him! She didn't want to listen at all! I got sent to the principal, then I wanted to call you and my phone was taken away and, and...” Her hands were shaking, the sadness replaced with anger. She clenched her jaw. „ And they told me just that 'boys do such things',” she finished.

Masamune knew those words too well, the expression serving as an excuse even back in the days of his childhood – and he would have lied, if he said he had never benefited from it. However, he grew up, the realisation haunting him at times like that: they did know better, but didn't want to admit it. Why would they, after all? It was easier not to hold somebody accountable... Yet, it should have never been a dilemma. „ Iroha, if anything like that ever happens again, if anybody oversteps your boundaries... Do anything to make them stop, got it? Break their nose, we'll deal with the consequences later” he finally mustered, holding in his rage. „And now is the later. Do you want to wait here or in the car?” „ The car.” Masamune nodded, handing her the keys and his phone. „ Update Mai, the call I got was too vague.”

Iroha sprawled over the back seat, fidgeting with her father's phone. She rolled her eyes, her own self looking back at her from the lock-screen. Perhaps she should have told him to change it, as not to scare anybody – she didn't exactly look the kindest when holding her wooden sword. Yet, she wasn't quite able nor willing to, the picture itself reminding her of how excited he was when she decided to practise kendo. She smiled, unlocking the phone to text Mai: „ Hey, mom. Iroha here. I'm okay now, dad's taking care of everything.” She looked away for a moment, the reply coming in almost instantly. „ ill call you asap” Her mother must have still been discussing the project, the rushed message being so unlike her.

The minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, the silence buzzing in her ears. More than anything, Iroha was tired – no, exhausted, both emotionally from all the stress, and physically, after crying. She looked at her hand – was it still hurting after hitting the bones, or was it just her imagination? She reached for her backpack and opened the textbook, hoping she'd be able to occupy her mind, even if just for a moment. However, the sentences didn't connect, the facts mixing with each other, forming an incoherent cluster of text. She couldn't help it, her thoughts drifting back to this hideous laugh... She couldn't rid herself of the feeling that she should have expected it, that she should have been more wary. Did she ignore the early signs? She should have known better...

The door next to the driver's seat opened, Masamune turning around to see her and ask for the keys. „ Hey, it's fine now. The guy's mother turned into a human-tomato and may stay one,” he assured her, starting the car. „ Thanks,” she hummed in response, fastening her seat belt. She looked outside the window, the school building soon disappearing, not bothering to say anything else. „ Are you fine, though?” „ Yeah. It's just that... Dunno, it feels like I should have known it would happen. But I'm so angry.” „ You did well..” „ But isn't violence always bad?” she argued, chewing on the inside of her cheek. „ No, not when they'd rather turn a blind eye on somebody hurting you. You just protected yourself.”

Iroha lay on her bed, the blankets hugging her tightly. She closed her eyes, the weariness overtaking her. In the end, she was safe – and definitely not alone.

Tag list: @datenoriko , @nad-zeta , @tsubaki3192 , @choi-jiyu , @missjudge-me If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)!^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me.

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #my ff

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malkumtend · 4 years

Text

I Like Your Laugh. (A CrowSquirrel AU Fanfic) - Chapter 5.

“Ow! Are you almost done?”

“Oh hush.” Feathertail said, hiding her smile as she rubbed the last of the marigold petals into Crowpaw’s thorn wound. “Stop fussing, I just want to see if it’s gonna set.”

Squirrelpaw laid beside the two cats observing the scene with a smirk. Crowpaw had been complaining about how much it stung the whole time, whining to the point that Feathertail had to use a paw to hold Crowpaw to the ground as she finished applying the petals to his side. “For a cat on the verge of becoming a warrior, you sure do mewl like a newborn kit.”

Crowpaw glared at her, he lay on the ground on his belly while Feathertail practically held him down. “It hurts.” He hissed through clenched fangs. “You could see it, couldn’t you?”

Squirrelpaw shrugged, “I’ve seen worse.”

Crowpaw rose to retort, only for a pulse of agony to bring him back to the ground, wincing.

Feathertail swatted him gently on his backside with her tail. “I told you, keep still! You’ll just make it worse!” She gave a stern frown to Squirrelpaw, “Please don’t provoke him, Squirrelpaw. The marigolds won’t do any good if he keeps moving.”

The Thunderclan apprentice sagged a little guiltily; Feathertail had a way of making anyone feel awful when she was the one angry at them. “Sorry, Feathertail.”

The Riverclan cat nodded gently. “What about me?” Crowpaw yowled.

Squirrelpaw’s eyes narrowed, “You should stop moving.”

“That’s true.” Feathertail said, as she finished applying the medicine to the wound. Crowpaw gave another tight exhale of pain but it was soon replaced by a satisfied sigh as a warm, soothing feeling tingled over his fur. “That should do it. Now just try not to move so much and it should be better by morning.” Feathertail said tenderly, taking her paw off of the smaller cat.

Crowpaw looked at the wound, he was almost impressed when he saw how efficiently Feathertail had covered the wound. Whoever this Mothwing was, she had given Feathertail some good advice.

“How does it feel?” Feathertail asked, her eyes still glinting with worry.

Crowpaw looked up, an unfamiliar warmness shining in his eyes. “Better than before.”

Feathertail smiled, but a chirp of laughter cut in the air. Both cats looked towards Squirrelpaw, who grinned at the pair of them, mostly Crowpaw, with an accomplished gleam. “So he does have a sense of humour! I never thought I’d see the day!”

Crowpaw groaned, unknowingly flushing, while Feathertail chuckled along with Squirrelpaw. The group had decided to spend the night near a ruined pile of stone that was once a wall. The cats had already eaten from prey that Stormfur, Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt had caught together, leaving the other three alone as they had caught for the group previously, plus Feathertail had needed to apply the medicine to Crowpaw. Now, the sky was dark, only lit by the glittering blink of the stars and the pale stroke of the moon.

Squirrelpaw had assisted the Riverclan warrior, chewing up the dock leaves that Feathertail later applied to Crowpaw’s wound. It was kind of fun, almost worth the idea of becoming a medicine cat. Almost. Squirrelpaw loved Leafpaw with all her heart, but she could never have the patience that her sister had, memorising every single remedy for every wound possible. That was too much pressure for Squirrelpaw. Besides, becoming a warrior felt more fulfilling to the ginger cat.

“Squirrelpaw.” Feathertail scolded after looking at the narrowed eyes of Crowpaw.

“I know. I know.” Squirrelpaw said, looking to the side. “No teasing. Sorry, Crowpaw.” She said half-heartedly. The cat still needed to learn how to take a joke properly.

Crowpaw looked to the side, feeling more annoyed than angry. “Don’t mention it.” He said hotly.

Squirrelpaw sighed, it was frustrating how quickly Crowpaw could change to his typical moody self. Earlier, it had looked like he would actually be pleasant for once, the cat had thanked her for her help with the kittypets after all. That had seriously caught her off guard! The last thing she ever expected to come out of the cat was gratitude. He always looked too proud to think about thanking another cat.

Guess looks really could be deceiving…

Temporarily at least.

But when he had, Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but feel strangely happy. She would have helped him regardless, he was part of their journey after all, but he of all cats had protested her when she joined them in the beginning.

Him thanking her, it was like he’d accepted her as part of the group.

She had won over the hardest cat to please.

It felt good.

But here he was, back to his normal moody self. It was so annoying! She was trying her hardest to get on with him, but he still returned to his bitter words every time.

But still, if he was going to insist on being difficult, she would bite back with a little light teasing.

Even if she wanted to be his friend, she wouldn’t take any cat’s stupidity.

Crowpaw thankfully seemed to settle, curling into himself slightly as he tried to get comfortable. He wouldn’t be able to move properly until morning. He sighed contently once he was relaxed, his face nestled between his two front legs while his back slackened letting the wound lie still and heal. The rigid lines along his brow uncurled, allowing a consoling silence to overtake him and calm the two cats watching him.

“Feel better.” Squirrelpaw sang with a frisky grin.

Crowpaw was too relieved to argue and only let out another relaxed sigh.

Feathertail giggled, “Mothwing will be happy to know she taught a cat well.” The warrior looked over to Squirrelpaw, “Thanks for your help, Squirrelpaw.”

The Thunderclan apprentice’s whiskers rose happily, “Not at all! We’d all be suffering if he was crying the whole journey!” She couldn’t help but add on cheekily. She let out a hushed laugh when Crowpaw opened his eyes to glare at her. He didn’t say anything though, so Feathertail let her laugh.

“Hey Feathertail.” The Riverclan warrior looked to find Stormfur walking over. The tom smiled at the three then looked down at Crowpaw with mixture of concern and amusement.

“How is he?”

“Just fine.” Crowpaw answered with an ominous stare at the tom that made the two mollies raise a brow.

Stormfur chuckled slyly at something that Squirrelpaw didn’t understand. “That’s good.” Stormfur stepped closer to examine his sister’s work, ignoring when Crowpaw stiffened and rose his ears in a silent threat. Luckily, Stormfur kept back enough to prevent the cat from turning on him. “You two did a fantastic job! It’s almost as good as a trained medicine cat!” He meowed.

Feathertail smiled, nodding politely at her brother.

“Your sister really is amazing!” Squirrelpaw chirped, missing when Stormfur seemed to flinch at her voice, he turned to the cat with a thin, sheepish smile. The confidence seemed to drain from his usually strong gaze.

“Oh, yes she is.” He said, a little more nervous than usual; Crowpaw noticed.

“I couldn’t have done it so quickly if it wasn’t for you, Squirrelpaw.” Feathertail pressed gently, “The wound may have very well become infected if it wasn’t for you.”

Squirrelpaw shrugged humbly, but Stormfur jumped in again. “That’s right! Not to mention how we would have gotten in a terrible fight if you and Tawnypelt hadn’t helped with those kittypets! You’re amazing as well!” He broke out the words so quickly that Squirrelpaw couldn’t catch the change in his tone.

Crowpaw and Feathertail heard it though. They heard his desperation to compliment her. Feathertail shook her head with a smile, while Crowpaw rolled his eyes.

“Thank you!” Squirrelpaw mewled at the grey tom, flashing an innocent beam. It was always nice when the others complimented her, she felt more welcome into the group. Stormfur laughed anxiously, exhaling in quick tittering breaths. He looked to be fighting to saying something else to her, his mouth opening quickly then shutting instantly the sharp sound of breath left his throat. He coughed, nodding again towards the apprentice before looking at his sister.

“F-Feathertail.” Stormfur tried to sound smooth, but the bitter embarrassment was evident in his tone. “It’s getting late, we should probably get some sleep.”

The Riverclan molly chuckled, “I know. Don’t worry, I’m on my way.”

They were completely dependent on each other. Squirrelpaw had never seen two cats as close as Feathertail and Stormfur before, it was like they were tied at the tail, afraid that they may sink through the ground if they became separated for too long. That shouldn’t have surprising though, after everything that had happened with Greystripe and Tigerstar, from what she had heard, it must have terrified them to think that they would grow apart.

It was actually really sweet. Any cat would be lucky if they found someone they could trust as much as the two siblings trusted each other.

Feathertail gave Crowpaw another concerned glance. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need?”

Crowpaw loosened with a gentle nod. “I’m sure. Thank you.”

It was still remarkable to Squirrelpaw that he could utter those words.

“He’ll be fine!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed walking towards the apprentice and whipping him gently with her tail again. “I’ll look after him!” She gave Crowpaw a sickly-sweet grin in response to his growling.

“See. You’ve done enough, he’ll be okay.” Stormfur said, beckoning his sister to go with him.

Feathertail thought about it a moment more before making her way to her brother, she still faced the two apprentices. “Goodnight, you two. Try not to start arguing, please!” She meowed tenderly.

Squirrelpaw laughed, “Don’t worry, we won’t!”

Feathertail smiled and turned to walk away from the pair. Stormfur gave both of them a firm nod, albeit more stiffly at Squirrelpaw, his whiskers curling as he did so, before he followed his sister, tail tucked slightly between his legs.

Squirrelpaw craned her head to the side. That was…unusual. “What’s biting him?”

There was a stiff silence, Crowpaw stared at her bluntly. “And you say I’m obvious.” He muttered.

Squirrelpaw flicked her ear in confusion, “Hmm?”

Crowpaw laid his head back onto his paws. “Nevermind.” He monotoned. “Thanks for the help, you can go now if you want.” His fur smoothed and his eyes closed, prepared to sleep.

He sounded much less genuine this time, he looked ready to be rid of her. Squirrelpaw frowned, she placed a heavy paw on Crowpaw’s forehead making him splutter under the press of her leg. “What if I don’t want to go?” Squirrelpaw said pointedly. It wasn’t up to him to decide.

Crowpaw batted her paw off his face, he sucked in air through grit teeth. “You and Feathertail already covered the wound, I can heal perfectly on my own. Get some rest!” It may have been good advice if he hadn’t sounded so bitter when he said it.

“No.” Squirrelpaw sat down next to him and began to clean her face. “Some cat has got to make sure you don’t open up the wound again.” She didn’t really think he would do that; she just didn’t want to go on his orders. Besides, she was starting to enjoy talking to him, he was fun to pester with a little.

Crowpaw groaned, “I’m not some kit, I don’t need you watching over me.”

“Maybe not. But I’m going to, because Feathertail was clearly worried about you and I want to make sure she isn’t worrying about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Crowpaw meowed signalling his wound with his tail, “She covered it perfectly, it’s not going to open again, and I’m certainly not going to move.”

“Well then, you shouldn’t worry about me having to make sure you don’t. Just keep still and we’ll be fine.” Squirrelpaw said curtly, rubbing her ears with her washed paws.

The tom groaned again but didn’t argue further. There was no point. Squirrelpaw was as stubborn as they came, he was just wasting breath.

The Thunderclan apprentice noticed him relax again and smiled triumphantly. She looked over to Feathertail to see if she was still checking over them. The warrior was peacefully settling next to her brother, curled up and ready to sleep. Squirrelpaw could see them draw closer to each other, their coats comforting the other as they shared a tranquil silence.

“They sure are close, aren’t they?” Squirrelpaw found herself saying, her tail swayed gently from side to side.

Crowpaw followed her stare and sniffed. “They’re siblings.”

Squirrelpaw’s eyes narrowed boredly, “I know that, mouse-brain.” She crossed her forepaws, leaning forward to rest her chin. “But you know what I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen those two really apart since the three of us went hunting.”

“Jealous?” Even though he didn’t show it, Squirrelpaw heard the smirk in his voice.

“Jealous? Of what?” Squirrelpaw hissed, her ears flattening crossly.

“Think Stormfur’s going to take your best friend from you?” Crowpaw dared to look up at her. “That Feathertail’s not going to pay attention to your games anymore?”

Squirrelpaw clenched with anger, the fury she had for this cat was coming up again with a vengeance. Once again, he was speaking like she was something to look down on. “Of course not!”

“Good, because that’s being stupid.” Crowpaw closed his eyes again. “She already thinks good of you, she’s spent more time with us on the journey after all than him.”

Wah?

The anger in Squirrelpaw softened until it only gave way to confusion. What was he doing? He spoke so condescending one second and then the next it actually sounded like he was trying to be…nice? Even now when he had his eyes closed, initially it looked dismissive, but after seeing that look so many times before Squirrelpaw noticed he looked different this time. There was no animosity in his brow at all. He just looked peaceful.

It actually seemed like his words were meant to encourage her.

Squirrelpaw’s teeth clenched in frustration. Why is he so darn weird?!

She let out her frustration in a tight breath, “I wasn’t jealous. I’m happy that they spend time together, they deserve it after everything that happened with Tigerstar.”

Crowpaw made a murmur of agreement but kept his eyes closed.

Squirrelpaw looked at the siblings again, a wave of sympathy coming over her for the pair. “Can you imagine what it was like? I don’t know how I’d be able to cope if someone tried to separate me from my sister.” She looked over at Crowpaw curiously, “Do you have any siblings?”

“Yes. Two.” Crowpaw said curtly.

Squirrelpaw could already judge from his brief tone that he didn’t get along with them so well. Clearly not anywhere close to the extent of Feathertail and Stormfur. “I only have one. Leafpaw. She’s training to be a medicine cat.”

“I see. Could she not make it as a warrior?” Crowpaw needed to be careful how he phrased his questions or else somecat was going to claw his ears off one day. Mercifully, Squirrelpaw could see the stupid tom meant it as a legitimate question.

“She’s never wanted to be a warrior; it’s always been her dream to be a medicine cat.” Squirrelpaw snorted, a flood of colourful memories painting her mind. “It’s not that she isn’t capable, believe me she could fight if she wanted, but she just wants to help her clan. Healing and treating cats, it’s something that makes her happy.”

Squirrelpaw couldn’t count how many times her sister had been the one who had treated her small wounds, every day chattering about the new herbs and remedies she had learnt to administer. She always looked so happy every time; it was always the most energetic time that Squirrelpaw ever saw her sister. It always made Squirrelpaw smile. Her sister deserved to do what she loved, no cat had worked as hard and was as passionate about their duties than Leafpaw.

Crowpaw’s lips curled into what may have looked like his attempt of a smile. It didn’t look right. “A medicine cat version of you?” He scoffed, “That I would have to see to believe. If you were our medicine cat’s apprentice your pelt would be hanging over a branch by now.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Squirrelpaw grumbled. She didn’t feel too angry by what he said, she definitely didn’t have the spirit of a medicine cat. She was only irked by the way it sounded like Crowpaw was dismissing her sister. Or maybe…

A sting throbbed in her heart.

“For your information, Leafpaw is the most attentive cats I know! She’d complete all her duties before sunhigh and then ask for more just so she could learn extra!” She had to push past it. She couldn’t let it get to her.

“Really?” Crowpaw’s voice dripped with rhetoric. “Is she a chatter-mouth like you then? That won’t suit sick cats who want to get some sleep well.” Whatever underlying meaning he had clearly wanted to spell out was ignored by Squirrelpaw, making the tom groan and place his paws over his eyes.

“No actually!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, “She’s too busy healing idiot cats like you to strike up a conversation. But if she was the one who treated your wound, I promise you’d be walking again by now.”

Crowpaw’s lips came back with a sneer, “Oh, really now?”

Squirrelpaw held him in her stare, her chest fur puffing out indignantly. “Yes! So be careful what you say.”

Crowpaw opened one eye, it glimmered judgingly at the she-cat. “Well, at least it doesn’t sound like she’s like you. That’s a relief.” Crowpaw shut his eye again, waiting for her to strike back with another hiss. Unknowingly, he was beginning to enjoy this little game of sass. It took his mind off of his wound at least.

But there was only a harsh silence. Crowpaw flicked an ear impatiently, normally she was quicker on the tongue than this. He felt compelled to open his eye again and found Squirrelpaw looking away from him. “What’s up with-”

Crowpaw took a good look at Squirrelpaw’s expression and his voice trailed off. Her brilliant green eyes looked shadowed, like a storm had stopped to drench her and her alone. There were creases on the bridge of her nose, ugly and upset, and her lips were thin and stiff with discomfort.

Hurt.

Crowpaw blinked, had he said something wrong? He hadn’t meant to, this time at least. “Um…. are you okay?” He’s astounded that he even asks.

Since when has he cared.

Maybe that was what happened when a cat jumped in to save you from a clawing.

Squirrelpaw kept staring at the ground, something burned in her irises. “…No.” Squirrelpaw pronounced in an unfamiliar monotone. “She’s not like me.”

Crowpaw’s ears burst up, his head rose to meet her eye level. There was a twist of uneasiness in his gut that he tried to swallow down. He felt stupid when an irritated spark prickled the fur at the back of his neck.

He was an amateur when it came to emotions.

Sure, he could hide his own whenever he pleased, having built an invisible wall between himself and others for practically all his life.

But what made other cats quiver or cry, he knew nothing about identifying that.

“Yeah, she’s completely different from me.” Squirrelpaw let out a laugh that sounded as if she had been hollowed out with the bluntest claws. “Patient, hardworking, not difficult in the slightest!” Crowpaw noticed how rehearsed she was when she listed these qualities. Like it was something she had heard many times before. “My complete opposite!” She sniffed tightly, and when she spoke again it was high and vulnerable. “That’s what you mean is it?”

It was. But Crowpaw hadn’t thought it would bother her. It wasn’t like he even knew her sister. Squirrelpaw didn’t look like a cat who had cried once in her life.

“Well…I mean, I guess, but-”

“Oh, of course that’s what you think!” Squirrelpaw chuckled darkly, turning away with a bitter ruffle of her pelt. Her eyes burned. “You wouldn’t be the first after all.”

And there it was. The flash of their past conversation hit Crowpaw like a boulder. He remembered Squirrelpaw’s rant, how angry she had been, how she’d told him that Firestar expected so much of her. At the time all Crowpaw could think was how lucky she was to have a parent who stuck around enough to have an actual discussion with their kit.

Maybe he really could be mouse brained.

He hadn’t bothered to actually what it was cats like her father had said to her.

And by the way she made it out, there were a lot of cats who thought the same as Firestar did. The image of Brambleclaw’s back, rejecting Squirrelpaw’s company, suddenly seemed so much colder.

Crowpaw’s ears sank down against his skull, “Squirrelpaw…Look, I didn’t…”

His throat went dry. He had meant it.

Something crawled over him like a nest of cold, numbing spiders.

Was this guilt?

The Thunderclan apprentice glanced blankly at him. “Okay, okay. I get the hint.” She rose up proudly, not even looking at the tom anymore. “I’ll make myself scarce. I don’t need this. Hope you feel better tomorrow.” She said, polite but poisonous. Her tail rose as if to hold up whatever dignity she had left and began to walk away.

It was what Crowpaw had wanted initially.

Now the sight of her back caused his stone expression to crack.

A pit of dread unfolded inside Crowpaw. The step of her paw sent a panic through him. He didn’t understand but he felt that he was losing something. Was this all because she had saved him earlier? Did he feel he was indebted to her in some way?

No. Those were just excuses. He knew that.

And he knew that he really just didn’t want one of the few cats he felt he could trust. One of the few that, though he would never tell, he actually enjoyed talking to. He didn’t want to lose that when he knew it would be entirely his own fault.

Even if he was poor at returning the favour.

“Wait!” Crowpaw meowed, he cringed when he felt his side ache again.

“Are you mouse-brained?” Squirrelpaw gasped, her voice was at his side again. “Get back down!”

Crowpaw’s ear flicked oddly, he looked down and was surprised to find he was standing. Eyes widening, he dropped back down in painful relief. He felt Squirrelpaw at his side, looking over the wound.

“By Starclan, what part of keep still do you not understand?” Squirrelpaw hissed, filled by a different kind of anger. She cursed through her teeth as she looked over the wound again. It was quiet for a while, until Squirrelpaw drew back with a relieved puff of air. The wound was still healing nicely.

“I’m sorry.”

The words came so quick that Squirrelpaw almost missed it.

Nobody said anything for a moment. Squirrelpaw didn’t react strongly while Crowpaw blushed heavily under his fur. There were some words he’d never thought he’d have to say.

“Say that again.” Squirrelpaw said, she might have been teasing but her voice was solid and cold.

Crowpaw hid a frustrated groan. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? For what exactly?” Squirrelpaw looked back down at the tom, her gaze was unreadable, almost as icy as Crowpaw tried to look. “Because there’s a lot you should be sorry for.”

“You know what.” Crowpaw muttered, his ears were flat and submissive. He needed to show he meant it. “I was just joking; I didn’t mean to make you angry.” The latter was true at least.

Squirrelpaw smirked thinly, “You know what a joke is?”

“Oh, come on. I’m really trying here.”

The Thunderclan apprentice laughed slightly, making Crowpaw relax a little. For a few heartbeats, Squirrelpaw looked at the ground aimlessly, thinking hard, then rose up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t think you knew what an apology was either.”

The banter was back. She had forgiven him. Crowpaw allowed himself to smile a little. “Guess I learnt that from you as well.”

“Well, someone had to teach you some manners.” Squirrelpaw’s eyes lit up with that all too familiar fire. She sat back down next to the tom, sighing into the cold night air, making little whisps of steam. “I just wish I could teach you how to keep still.”

“Don’t get your fluffy tail in a twist over my safety, Squirrelbrain.”

“I thought you were apologising for being a mouse-brian.”

“I did.” He didn’t try to hide it this time when his voice went low. “Look, I didn’t think it got to you that much. You just seem like the type of cat that would laugh that kind of thing off.”

Squirrelpaw laughed in disbelief. “Are you serious? It’s my father, the leader of my clan! If he thinks like that about me just how do you think the rest of the clan feel.”

When she put it like that it sounded so stupidly obvious. “I wouldn’t have thought you cared.”

“That’s because you don’t think.” The way she said it didn’t sound like she was joking, but it also didn’t sound like she was being serious. A curious mix. “Sorry if it shocks you that cats other than yourself can have things they don’t want every clan knowing.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

Squirrelpaw paused for a second, then shrugged. “Guess I don’t really care what you think about it.”

He recognised the lie. It was something he told himself as well when he told her about his father the first time.

They were both too stubborn to admit they trusted each other.

Crowpaw nodded, “So, it’s different with your sister?”

“Are you joking? Everyone loves her. Don’t get me wrong, she deserves it!” She took a moment to breathe. “There is no cat in Thunderclan you’d want more than Leafpaw. She really will make a fantastic medicine cat for us.” She smiled as she said it, but her gaze was flat. “I’m happy that cats realise that; I just…”

Squirrelpaw looked down again at nothing. Crowpaw swallowed, he recognised that as well; Pride for someone you wanted to defend because you know, to your clan, they were the definition of perfect and rightly so, but that empty stupid angst when you’re the only one who thinks about another side to the story. It always finds a way to creep in.

It wasn’t fair that she found a way to make Crowpaw feel so sorry for her.

“I get it.” Crowpaw was there when Squirrelpaw looked into his eyes. “It’s a pain.”

“Yeah.” Squirrelpaw whispers, “It is. I’ll always be happy for her; I just wish that my clan would…” She trailed off again so Crowpaw snuck it in.

“Not compare you two?”

“Well yeah, but other things as well.”

Crowpaw wanted to follow on, but he felt another shadow lurk over him, making him look behind himself. Immediately he was greeted by a thick wall of brown fur and muscle. Crowpaw couldn’t help but frown at the sight of Brambleclaw’s judging grin.

“Heh, she really did do a brilliant job on that wound.” Brambleclaw said brazenly. “Do you feel okay?”

“Fine.” Crowpaw said, looking away to lick his paws. After how stupidly Brambleclaw had scolded Squirrelpaw after she had saved him and Stormfur, Crowpaw couldn’t find one shred of reason to still give the cat the time of day.

Brambleclaw must have sensed Crowpaw’s coldness, because his smile thinned, and his brow creased. “Okay, good.” He said icily. “I just wanted to see if we’d have any problems tomorrow, we’ve still got a long way to go.”

Crowpaw growled at that phrasing, and Squirrelpaw’s jaw hung a little. It wasn’t Crowpaw’s fault he’d gotten injured. Brambleclaw didn’t have to make it out like Crowpaw was any kind of issue for them.

“He isn’t-”

“Anyway.” Brambleclaw didn’t look like he was going to apologise for cutting her off. Adding to the list of things he needed to be sorry for. “It’s good to see it’s healing. So, I’m going to get some rest. You coming.” He said, looking at Squirrelpaw. It was clearly not meant to be a question.

Squirrelpaw unwillingly shrank from the authority in his tone. She coughed quickly and met his gaze, trying not to flinch. “I think it would be best if I kept an eye on him, just in case.” Squirrelpaw internally sighed in relief when Crowpaw didn’t object.

Brambleclaw cocked a brow, but his eyes also narrowed a little. “What? It looks fine. It’s not going to open up again in his sleep.”

“It definitely won’t if I’m here.” Squirrelpaw pressed, her tail curling around her body. Crowpaw looked at the molly anxiously, Crowpaw looked at the molly anxiously, she didn’t need to be by him really, but she still insisted on keeping near the tom.

“Oh, come on.” Brambleclaw scoffed, his words drawling over the tips of his fangs. “You don’t need to act like a medicine cat to him. Feathertail has looked after him enough, let’s leave him to rest.”

Squirrelpaw’s stare sank into a glare. Crowpaw felt a prick of irritation as well. It wasn’t just Feathertail alone that had seen to him. Was Brambleclaw so stupid that he didn’t notice that?

Crowpaw felt something twist in his mind. Or…was Brambleclaw saying this deliberately?

“You can rest. I’ll make sure he does.” Squirrelpaw looked away proudly, making Brambleclaw’s chest heave and his eye twitch.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll rest easier without another cat.” Brambleclaw coaxed, before muttering under his breath. “Especially a loud mouthed one.”

Both apprentices caught the last sentence, whether it was Brambleclaw’s intention or not. Squirrelpaw’s pelt prickled with rage and Crowpaw looked on shocked and angry at the warrior. What was wrong with this cat? Was this how he treated all his clanmates?

“What was that?!” Squirrelpaw demanded.

“Keep your voice down.” Brambleclaw ordered, his stare now burning. “Look, we’re all tired, so stop being difficult!”

Squirrelpaw flinched slightly. “I’m not being difficult. I’m only-”

Brambleclaw silenced her with another hiss. “If you say that you’re doing this for Feathertail, don’t bother! She clearly thinks he’ll be fine. You don’t need to pester him!”

Crowpaw’s eyes flashed furiously. What gave Brambleclaw the right to decide what bothered Crowpaw or not? Sure, Squirrelpaw was snappy and silver tongued, but it didn’t bother Crowpaw anymore. Crowpaw might have felt a hint of blame if he hadn’t seen Squirrelpaw shrink more under Brambleclaw’s words. It looked like every drop of confidence had been squeezed out of her. Did she really think she was doing harm just because Brambleclaw said so?

Or maybe…was this what Squirrelpaw had to deal with regularly? Cats who had scolded her so much she had started to, no matter how slightly, believe what they were saying.

Squirrelpaw swallowed, daring to look back at her clanmate. “I’m not pestering him. We’re just talking. Would you prefer it if we were fighting?” She snapped.

Brambleclaw’s lip curled, revealing a sharp fang. “I’d prefer that you stop fighting with him and me!” Brambleclaw yowled. “You’ve been avoiding me all day! How can we work as a team when I don’t even speak with my own clanmate?!”

‘You were the one avoiding her!’ Crowpaw’s mind screamed, ‘You’ve been the once who’s criticised her at every turn!’ He expected Squirrelpaw to echo his thoughts, but she returned to looking at the ground, sucking her lips close to her teeth.

Was it that word? Clan. The thing that had kept Crowpaw sealed away from her and Feathertail for so long. The word thing Squirrelpaw was desperate to please but exiled emotionally by those she called her friends. Crowpaw’s claws unsheathed as he saw Squirrelpaw sniff and Brambleclaw relax in his make-believe victory.

“Anyway, come on. Let’s just leave Crowpaw be.” Brambleclaw moved to the side, inviting her to walk by him. “I’m sure he’d appreciate being left in piece.”

“She can stay if she wants to.”

Both of them looked to him in surprise, like it wasn’t a conversation he was part of. Squirrelpaw’s eyes drifted over the apprentice, baffled at what it seemed he was doing. Brambleclaw’s jaw widened momentarily, then his eyes burned.

“But she doesn’t need to. You look fine.”

“I never said I wasn’t fine.” Crowpaw spat, staring up at the tall mass of muscle before him. He knew inwardly that Brambleclaw could tear his fur off with one claw if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t dare do it if it meant disbanding the group. His clan wouldn’t like that! “I said that if she wanted to stay and make sure I was okay, she could.”

“She isn’t a medicine cat apprentice.”

“And Feathertail isn’t a medicine cat, they still healed the wound well enough. What has that got to do with anything?”

Brambleclaw’s tone sharpened, “I don’t want her worrying about you the whole night! We all need our strength!”

“She doesn’t need to worry. I’ll be okay, but she can stay and…” Crowpaw groaned, “Look after me, if she wants.”

“What for though?” Brambleclaw demanded.

Crowpaw shrugged, “Because she can. Just like you can leave me in peace if you’re so worried about that.” Crowpaw had to stifle back a laugh when Brambleclaw drew back in astonishment. Squirrelpaw looked ready to drop down like Crowpaw, her face a picture of complete awe, but her eyes glittered with a rare appreciation.

“I’d be happy to.” Brambleclaw growled behind his jaws, “I just want her to come with me.”

“That isn’t your decision.” Crowpaw’s neck stiffened, his stare never breaking.

“You just said you wanted peace.”

“From you.” There was a glowing challenge in the blue shimmer of Crowpaw’s eyes. “I want you gone. I don’t mind if she stays.” Even without looking, Crowpaw could see Squirrelpaw soften in genuine gratitude. His tail thumped against the ground; he would make sure Brambleclaw know that he wouldn’t win this discussion without a fight.

The Thunderclan warrior accepted the challenge, a dark menace slithering over his expression. He licked his dry lips, before replying in a dry voice. “I don’t like how much time she seems to be spending with you.” Brambleclaw’s face sunk in, his mouth becoming thin as his eyes slid between the two cats uneasily. “She’s my clanmate. I worry about her.” Brambleclaw stated dispassionately, no sense of friendship in the bluntness of his tone.

There it was. That was what it was all about.

Crowpaw thought about that a second. He had thought the same for a while, how the difference of their clans was the end all of any rapport they could have. In a way Crowpaw could understand why Brambleclaw thought the way he did. He wanted his clanmates trust, he didn’t know if he could trust another cat like Crowpaw.

Crowpaw didn’t need to agree though. He had been wrong; he could admit that. He didn’t care if Brambleclaw eventually did.

“I don’t care about what you like or don’t like, Brambleclaw.” Crowpaw said stiffly. “But you don’t need to worry about her, we all saw that she could fend for herself. Besides, it’s not like I could do her any harm, even if I wanted to, like this.”

“I’m not arguing about that, Crowpaw, but I still don’t like your attitude.” Brambleclaw spat, “With all due respect,” The drawl made it clear how much respect he had for the apprentice, “I’m her clanmate, I think I’d know better about what’s best for her than you.”

‘My attitude! I’m not the one upsetting my clanmate!’ A snarl grew in Crowpaw’s throat and caused his fangs to gleam, his blood seemed to flow with venom, vicious and ready for the kill. The fur on the back of his neck spiked and he tensed, ready to spring. Whether he won or not, he just wanted to break every bone in this bee-brain’s body.

Then, his eye caught Squirrelpaw in the corner, shaking at the growing tension, the unsure look of who to support, and he paused.

How would it help her if he tried to tear the fur from her clanmate?

He looked down at his curved fangs, and sighed. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the brown warrior was wrong about one thing, he did need to change his attitude slightly. He was too quick to the fight, too ready with claws instead of judgement.

He may look like a coward if he did it, but maybe it was better to leave it be for now. It would do no good for anyone if he started a fight with this idiot. He needed to keep calm, for now. He needed to prove that he could change his attitude for the better. He needed to prove those who thought he was an untrustworthy, violent troublemaker wrong.

Crowpaw sheathed his claws, thought for a moment, inhaled, exhaled. When he opened his eyes again, he almost looked friendly.

Crowpaw flicked his tail pridefully, “Maybe, but she knows better than you.”

Brambleclaw tensed, staring down the cat who refused to back down. Seeming to realise Crowpaw would not give up, he gave Squirrelpaw another poisonous glare. “Are you coming?”

The ginger molly stared at her clanmates burning gaze and tried to hide how much she wanted to cry. When he looked at her like that, it reminded her of so many cats. So many voices who had told her how much of a nuisance she was. Involuntarily she looked away, straight into Crowpaw’s eyes. The black tom looked at her gently, and softly nodded at her.

No malice, no contempt, just welcoming.

The blue pools in his eyes became almost alluring, tranquil. But most importantly, he left it to her, no sense of judgement in what she decided to do. It was up to her, nobody else.

Squirrelpaw stared a moment longer, then smiled. Looking back to Brambleclaw, she inhaled and made herself look as calm as possible. She stared right into the blazing fire in Brambleclaw’s leer and blew the fire into smoke.

“Sorry Brambleclaw, I’m staying here tonight.” Squirrelpaw said. No explanation was given as none was deserved. It was her choice, no one else’s.

There was a moment of tense silence. Brambleclaw glared between the two cats, looked ready to say something else, then remembered whatever sense he had and kept quiet. His tail swung in agitation, “Fine.” He turned away from the two, his movements stiff and rigid with anger, “Be that way. Good night.”

“Goodnight.” Squirrelpaw called after him as he slunk away to the other end of the wall. Once he was gone, Squirrelpaw let out a hidden sigh of relief, sinking to the floor next to Crowpaw in exaggerated exhaustion. “Oh Starclan, that was hard.”

Crowpaw snickered but hid it well. “I thought you liked a challenge.” The ginger molly darted him with a playful scowl.

“Shut up. At least I didn’t get a mouthful of dirt.” She teased. Within an instant, she was back to her old self. Crowpaw felt a sympathetic rush in his chest; just how much had she heard from her clan to make her feel like that when they scolded her?

Crowpaw didn’t say anything else, retuning his head to his paws peacefully. Now that she was okay, he could let himself get a little rest.

“But,” Squirrelpaw’s voice was hushed and cautious, “Thank you, for that.”

When he opened his eyes, he could even see the blush underneath her glowing red fur. Her emerald gaze was away from him in embarrassment. “That’s the first time…someone other than Leafpaw has stuck up for me.”

“What about when we praised your bravery with those kittypets earlier?”

“Oh, don’t overthink this, mouse-brain!” Squirrelpaw chided, but the smile was clear on her face. “You know what I mean.”

Crowpaw had forgotten what it felt like to smile, but he was pretty sure he was doing it now. “It’s fine. You may be annoying, but I hate that mange-pelt a lot more.” He paused. “Is he always like that with you?”

Squirrelpaw sighed, curling into a comfortable position. “No. He’s really just stared since we began the journey.” She looked hesitant for a second and Crowpaw understood immediately/

“The rest of your clan?” Crowpaw’s voice dropped a little.

“Mostly my Dad and mentor.” Squirrelpaw admitted, her head tucking a little into her fluffy body. “I mean, I understand that they want what’s best for me, I do try to take their advice.”

“If that’s how they phrase it, I wouldn’t call it advice.” Crowpaw thought, but he knew she didn’t need to hear that. She needed to hear what would make her feel better.

“I guess.” Crowpaw said softly, “It doesn’t excuse them though.”

Squirrelpaw shrugged with a sad smile. “What does it matter? It’s my father and my leader, I can’t do anything, not really anyway.”

Crowpaw felt the discomfort from the first time he’d seen Brambleclaw scold Squirrelpaw return. She was so resigned that she just accepted it. But she was right. What could she do? Nobody could talk back to their clan leader and expect to come out well. How much worse could it be if that leader was her father? Crowpaw tried to think of what he did when he personally disagreed with something Tallstar had said; what had he done to get over it?

The black tom racked his brain and could only think of one thing. “They’re still wrong, you know.” Squirrelpaw met his gaze curiously, “About you being a problem. You’re not.”

The ginger molly didn’t say anything, she looked too bewildered by what the cat was saying to believe him. So Crowpaw carried on, “I mean, yeah, you’re a little…impulsive.” Crowpaw laughed a little when Squirrelpaw frowned at him. “But from what I’ve seen, the advice you gave me, the way you went for those kittypets throats?” He stared at her with honest recognition, “Any clan would be lucky to have that kind of apprentice in their ranks.”

Crowpaw had meant to say it to comfort her, but the more he went on, the more he realised he meant it. This cat was a catch for any clan. Her bravery, her wit, her (mostly) friendly nature. She was a cat even he could admire. Admiring a cat from another clan? Crowpaw could have laughed out loud, this journey was really changing him.

Squirrelpaw had become more still as he spoke, her face unravelling out of her fur to greet the light of the moon where the shimmering surprise in her face became more and more clear. He had meant every word. This cat from another clan, the one she had hated, was now telling her what she had always wanted to hear from her own clan for so long.

Every voice that had called her a problem before seemed to fade like bones in the dirt as Crowpaw’s honesty sank into the night.

Something twisted inside her, something warm and inviting.

Crowpaw actually looked like he was smiling. Crowpaw never smiled. Squirrelpaw liked his smile.

Squirrelpaw blinked away the appreciated tears before they could spill. She would not cry, she had that much pride left. “I guess I am pretty great!” Squirrelpaw coughed, composed herself, before turning back to the tom with a star bright beam.

She had a smile that pulled you in, one that Crowpaw couldn’t help but smile back at. When she rolls onto her back, her upside-down grin makes him chuckle. “You’re a mouse-brain, but one that I’d have in Windclan if it was up to me.”

Considering how arrogantly high Crowpaw held Windclan, Squirrelpaw realised this was probably the greatest compliment she could ever hope to receive.

“Aww, well sorry, Crowfood, but I don’t plan on leaving Thunderclan anytime soon.” She pouts mockingly, “No matter how slug-minded my clanmates are, they’re still my clan.”

Crowpaw shrugged, “Fair enough.” He could add loyal to the qualities he respected about her. He thought of something else he could say, cautious but hopeful it would make her feel a little better. “Besides, I’m sure your father does care about you. No leader would spend so much time if they didn’t.”

Squirrelpaw rolled back onto her belly, facing the tom, her face twisted in thought. “I suppose.”

“Still doesn’t mean he isn’t being a fox-heart about it though.” Crowpaw added quickly.

Squirrelpaw frowned but batted him with a playful giggle. “Hey, that’s my father you’re talking about.” She stopped laughing suddenly and looked down in the ground, her tail swaying carefully, contemplating, across the ground.

Crowpaw craned his head, “What?”

Squirrelpaw glanced up at him, biting her bottom lip attentively. “Can I ask you something?”

The tom’s ear twitched, “I guess.”

“What was your father like?”

The pit came back to Crowpaw’s stomach. He looked down from her. “I thought I already told you. I didn’t see much of him when I was young.”

Squirrelpaw edged a little closer to Crowpaw, “But what was he like when you did see him?”

Crowpaw felt a stupid irritation crawl down his fur again. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m just asking.”

“Why though?”

“I told you about my father.” Squirrelpaw meowed, “I’m curious about what he was like, I’ll never get the chance to meet him after all.”

Crowpaw snorted contemptuously. Curiosity? That was a stupid reason to bring up those memories he wanted to forget. The very thought of Deadfoot made him angry, the picture of him was a poison that corrupted every dream Crowpaw dared to imagine.

But…Squirrelpaw had shared those kinds of thoughts with him, when she never had to. That meant that he was indebted to her in some way. Crowpaw groaned, he hated owing any cat anything. He sighed and pushed the sickness away from his stomach. Better to get this over with.

“I don’t know, he was always busy, I guess; always rushing to do whatever he could with the clan.”

Squirrelpaw scooted closer in interest. “All the time?”

“All the time.” Crowpaw cursed, “There wasn’t a day where he wouldn’t spend half of it carrying out whatever he could, even when he wasn’t asked. He might have wanted to prove himself.”

“Prove himself?”

Crowpaw’s tail rattled against the grass as it swung, “He’d been born with a twisted paw.”

“Oh, was that why he was called…” Squirrelpaw realised the meaning and her expression twisted with a mixture of humour and horror. “That’s horrible!”

Crowpaw shrugged, “He loved it. He felt it was something he could overcome, and he did. He spent every single day proving just how much of a credit he was to the clan.” Crowpaw didn’t add in what he really thought. How Deadfoot had been so stuck on his pride that he hadn’t remembered to care for his second duty as a cat. His family. Crowpaw felt his lip curl.

“He sounds like he was a hard worker.” Squirrelpaw said innocently.

“He was.” Crowpaw didn’t mean to hiss, but the thought of a near crying kit screaming at his dispassionate father pounded against his skull. He grit his teeth and tried to blur the image. Instantly, he regretted his tone when he saw Squirrelpaw’s ears fold back in fright.

“I’m sorry.” Squirrelpaw said quickly, “I didn’t mean-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I just… It’s complicated.” Crowpaw looked away in humiliation. He never left himself open like this, he swore to never let these emotions get the best of him, he always told himself that Deadfoot was not worth any tears.

He was failing his own advice.

Then a warmth came over his paw, he looked down and saw a small ginger paw rest gently on his own. Squirrelpaw smiled at him, inviting, comforting. “I’m here if you want to tell me.” She encouraged, her ginger fur glowing like a star in the night air. She spoke to him with a kindness that he hadn’t sensed in a long time from anyone, not since his own mother.

Crowpaw felt something surge. The desire to share, the push he needed. A wave of images of his father came to his mind and made his tongue spasm.

“I hated him.”

“Why?”

“He always put the clan before us. He never had any time for anything but himself and the clan. Never his family. We always came last as far as he was concerned.” It came out like the venom of an adder, hidden away, ready to strike. Crowpaw spoke it simple and plain, his voice hollow with the unspoken truth.

Squirrelpaw listened, ears up, looking him straight in the eye.

“The most time me or any of my family ever spent with him was at his vigil. There was never any time for us before that.” He remembered it clearly, listening while cats shared stories of the cat they all admired, stories Crowpaw never had, never would have. “Your father may be a pain, but at least you can say you have memories of him. All we ever did was fight; I was a kit for Starclan’s sake!”

Squirrelpaw took that on board and nodded slowly, “I’m sorry, that does sound awful.” No matter how much her father had begun to push her recently, she still had memories of him. Happy memories. Memories of him telling her and Leafpaw stories of the past while they rested at his or her mother’s side.

She cherished those times.

They were times Crowpaw never had.

“I didn’t like to think about him after that.” Crowpaw meowed, his steely gaze never leaving Squirrelpaw, “I didn’t want to. He never thought about us, so I didn’t want to waste time on him. And then-” The tom cringed. The newest memory, the one he hated the most was next. He spluttered for a moment, breaking his gaze to the floor with a sound that may have been a sob to those who listened carefully.

He felt a gentle squeeze on his paw, a rush of warmth. He looked up again, and her warm smile compelled him to finish.

He took a tight breath, “When I saw him in that dream, I felt so much angrier. He spoke of the prophecy, of how important this duty was, of how Windclan relied on me. But nothing else. Nothing. No apology, no explanation. He just faded away and left! Again! I deserve better than that don’t I? I-”

Crowpaw hadn’t meant for his voice to raise, he hadn’t meant to sound like he was ready to break down. He had to muster all his strength to keep himself together. The tears that pricked the corners of his eyes were blinked away and hidden once again. He shakily finished, “I’m his son.”

He waited for Squirrelpaw to say something else but nothing came, she looked at him, sadness clear in her expression, but also confused thought. Crowpaw sighed, what could she possibly say to take away the fact that his father hated him? It was nothing anyone could change.

And then, Crowpaw felt a warm feeling stroke his ear. He looked up, stunned. Squirrelpaw looked slightly embarrassed by what she had just done, hiding it behind a sheepish smile. She moved a little closer to him, thinking for a moment then spoke again to the wide-eyed apprentice.

“But he chose you didn’t he.” Squirrelpaw said softly. Her kind eyes burned into Crowpaw’s.

The Windclan cat shook himself out of the initial shock that she had licked him and craned his head with a puzzled look. “I- What?” He stammered.

“Out of every cat in Windclan, every warrior, he chose you to represent your clan.” Squirrelpaw giggled, “Mouse-brain, doesn’t that tell you anything?” She asked tenderly.

Thinking about her words, they did tell Crowpaw something, but he had been to angry before to realise it. His mouth hung as his brain swallowed her words. Squirrelpaw continued for him, her paw patting his chipperly.

“He trusts you, Crowpaw. It shows just how much he thought of you! And how much he still thinks of you in Starclan.”

Crowpaw sat in quiet contemplation. His father had chosen him. It was something he’d never considered, he’d only thought of Windclan, never his father. So, in Starclan, did Deadfoot really… Squirrelpaw’s smile urged on these positive thoughts that Crowpaw never dared to dream. They became more and more convincing because of her.

His father had chosen an apprentice to save Windclan.

His father had chosen him.

A shaky breath escaped Crowpaw, he tried to find words, but none came out.He couldn’t remember the last time he was geniuinely speechless. Squirrelpaw grinned, patted his paw again and laid down with a yawn. “You were chosen because your clan, your father, believes in you Crowpaw. If you forget that, you really do have bees in your brain.”

He may have retorted her banter, but Crowpaw heard a shift in her voice, something sad. He looked down at her and noticed a strain in her smile. Hie froze. Even now, she still thought of how her clan thought of her. This wonderful cat was still plagued by all those stupid words that meant nothing in reality.

He would not allow that.

“Yeah.” The black tom said smoothly, laying down next to her and realising what he needed to say. “Well if you ask me, Thunderclan chose the wrong cat.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t move for a second, then her eyes widened, and she looked again at Crowpaw. At his clear, genuine smile.

Once again, the ginger molly felt the warm twist in her heart.

She smiled back at him as he laid down to sleep again, his last movement being a gentle nod. Squirrelpaw followed suit, curling up next to his form. Despite the chilly air, they were both warm. She made sure he didn’t stir again throughout the night, and when he seemed to shiver a little, she let herself sleep by him. The warmth she gave her friend gave her all the peace Squirrelpaw all the peace she needed to sleep well.

#crowfeather #crowpaw #crowsquirrel #squirrelcrow #Warriors #warriors au #brambleclaw #Feathertail #stormfur #New Prophecy #fanfic #Warrior Cats

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yeontanismypresident · 5 years

Text

Our One and Only | 05

Word Count: 2,827

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Talk of past abuse, blood, (past) suicidal thoughts, alcohol, bullying, swearing, violence, I apologize if I’m missing anything

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The members didn’t think they could be any more content than they were at the moment. They were getting to become known worldwide and have inspired a significant amount of other hybrids to follow their aspirations. However, when Y/n strolled into the room, they realized they could turn out to be quite a lot more satisfied.

If you’d like to be tagged, comment below <3

Chapter Five

You led the way to your apartment, the boys following you close behind. You could tell they were excited to see your place just by their excited chatter. It was a short walk back to your apartment and it was filled with jokes and laughter. Taking out your key, you hesitated before opening your front door. The seven hybrids stood behind you and anxiously shifted as their noses picked up multiple scents. The three strongest being you, Yuna, and Hyuk. When your boyfriend's scent hit their noses, they growled low in their chests. You looked at them confusedly, not being able to pick up on what was aggravating them.

"Is everything okay?" you quietly asked them as you walked inside, they followed you in, Yoongi closing the door gently behind him. Hoseok gave you a bright smile, talking loudly to try and cover up the continuing growls, "Yeah, we're all fine. You have a lovely place!" You returned his smile and chuckled, "I haven't even given you a tour yet, but thank you." It seemed as though the idea of a tour made them calm down and forget their anger. Swaying from side to side, you awkwardly looked at each of them, "So, uh, would you guys like that tour..?" The three youngest all nodded, their tails wagging, grins overtaking their faces.

“Obviously this is the living room, then if you go through this door we’ll be in the kitchen,” you moved your arms around awkwardly, allowing them to look around. Walking out of the kitchen, you led them down the hallway, “The door on the left is the bathroom, and this here, is my bedroom.”

They trailed behind you, eagerly looking around the small bedroom. On the walls, there were pictures of you and your friends. The bed was in the middle, with a side table on each side. There was a tidy desk against the wall, lots of nick knacks on it. Unbeknownst to you, they were all scenting the room, trying to get rid of his scent. Even though you wouldn’t be able to tell, it still made them feel more comfortable knowing there wouldn’t be a trace of him anymore.

“Why don’t we go into the living room and watch some TV?” you asked them, already on your way out of the bedroom door. Settling on the couches, you turned on the TV to a random channel, knowing no one was really going to be paying attention. As you suspected, they all started up different conversations. They all looked like they were at home, and the thought made you feel peaceful.

You took this time to actually look at them, to study them. Looking at Jungkook as he messed around with Taehyung and Jimin, you watch as a smile, kind of resembling a bunny, graced his face, his nose twitching. Jimin stole your attention with his giggles, his eyes scrunching up. If it weren't for the cat ears and tail, you'd say he was a dog hybrid by how energetic he was. Switching your gaze to Taehyung, you watched as his tail starts wagging fast, bouncing up and down on the couch. "What kind of music do you like to listen to Y/n-ah?" Jin's voice shook you out of your silent thoughts. You fixed your gaze on the four men sat on the couch across from you, “Uhh, I like all types really. My favorite is pop and hip hop though. It's really fun to dance to." They all nodded, but Hoseok looked to be the happiest. "You like to dance?!" he questioned, a heart shape smile on his face. You gave out a genuine laugh and shook your head, "More so for fun, nothing serious," you tilted your head and add on, "actually, I'm really bad at dancing." "I'm sure you're better than Namjoon Hyung," Hoseok reassured you, teasing Namjoon as well, earning him an offended 'Yah!' Hoseok just laughed, getting up and going over to where the three Maknaes were now looking at your gaming system. "Y/n-ah, can we play some games?" Taehyung asked you as all three of them pouted at you, and you couldn't say no to them, "Sure! Just be careful with it." They all whooped and hollered, turning it on and picking out a game.

Turning away from them, you saw Jin and Namjoon whispering to each other. Not wanting to intrude on their privacy, you looked around the room. Your eyes met with Yoongi's, his eyes holding some sadness and guilt, so you motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen. Standing up from his seat, he grabbed your outstretched hand, holding it tightly and allowing you to tug him along. Sitting down at the table, you kept your hold on his hand. "Yoongi, are you okay?" you asked him, voice gentle and calming. He stared at you, not wanting to seem weak and vulnerable in front of you, but you could see right through him, "You can tell me, I won't judge you Yoongi-ah." He took a deep breath and put his head down, hiding his face from you, "I...I feel like it's my fault that you didn't want to be friends with us," he paused for a minute, trying not to cry. Once he was sure he wouldn't start sobbing, he looked up, tears in his eyes, "I didn't mean to scare you when we met. I just, I just don't like when people touch my ears bec-" "Hey, hey, hey. you don't need to tell me why Yoongi. I understand," you softly stated, not wanting him to feel like he had to tell you.

He sniffled and shook his head, "No, I want to tell you. Growing up, I was never in a good place. My parents died when I was six. From then until I was seventeen I kept going from one home to another. Not all of them were kind to the hybrids though..." Yoongi's eyes glazed over, thinking of all the terrible things he had to go through, one in particular....

Flashback

He was only twelve at the time and staying a run down foster home. He should have been outside, playing with all the other kids, but he wasn't normal like them. No, he was a hybrid, a black panther more specifically. Everyone thought he was dangerous, didn't want to get too close to him in case he tried to hurt them. Even all the other hybrids were terrified of him. So it was a shock when he was approached by four hybrids. A monkey hybrid named Jung-woo, a bear hybrid named Chul, a German shepherd hybrid named Dae-hyun, and lastly a pit-bull hybrid named Hee-joon. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the sad and pathetic, excuse of a hybrid," Chul spat at him, causing Yoongi to flinch, shrinking in on himself. Seeing him ignore them angered Dae-hyun, "Yah! Look at us when we're talking to you!" Not wanting to create any trouble, Yoongi continued to ignore them, keeping his eyes downcast. It was when Jung-woo pushed him off of the bed that he finally looked up at the bullies. He kept his face blank, getting up off the floor, going to sit back down in his original seat. Before he could do so, Hee-joon pushed him towards Chul. Yoongi stumbled into him and before he could find his balance, Chul pushed him towards Dae-hyun. This continued on for a few minutes, all the while the bullies were laughing at Yoongi. They finally let Yoongi fall to the floor, not once stopping their laughter. Only when Yoongi jumped up, with tears cascading down his cheeks and a sneer transfixed on his face, that they quieted down. They'd never seen the panther hybrid look so enraged. He was always on the quieter side, never making a sound, hiding himself away in his room, away from everyone else, but it seemed as though he had finally met his breaking point. It was silent, the only noises in the room being Yoongi’s heavy panting. His tail swayed angrily in the air, his hackles raised. He slowly stalked towards three cowering hybrids, threatening growls leaving his lips. "Awh you think you're so big and bad don't you..kitty?" Jung-woo, who seemed to be the only one not scared, taunted Yoongi. Although, that all changed when Yoongi lunged at him, pinning him down to the floor. Yoongi started throwing punches, wanting to hurt Jung-woo as much as he had him. The other hybrids in the room started to scream. Dae-hyun ran to get one of the foster parents, while Chul and Hee-joon tried to pull him off of Jung-woo. Despite all their attempts, they couldn't get him off, only getting bruises and scratches of their own. It was as if Yoongi was being possessed. Yoongi didn't even notice he was being pulled off of the battered Jung-woo, just kept swinging and kicking the air. "Enough!!" their foster mom, Nari, shouted while carrying Yoongi down the stairs and to the basement. He finally calmed down, and once he realized where she was taking him, he started to shake and cry. When they got down there, she put him in the middle of the room before undressing him down to his boxers. He kept repeating 'no, no, no' and tried to run back up to the main floor, but had no luck as it was locked. Their "father" figure, if you could even call him that, walked towards the young hybrid slowly, a belt in one hand and a bottle of soju in the other. Yoongi whimpered and curled in on himself, wishing he could just disappear. He knew what was coming. Every hybrid and human who misbehaved in any way was brought down here to be taught their lesson. He's been brought down here countless times, even has the scars to prove it. He was quiet and only flinched for the first few hits of the belt, biting his bottom lip, used to the pain. It was after he had been hit for five minutes straight that he finally made a sound. He whined and cried, trying to back away from the harsh belt. The man abusing him got tired of just using the belt, so he downed the rest of his soju, breaking the bottle over Yoongi's head and then proceeded to cut his legs. Yoongi screamed, giving up on trying to be strong. Blood gushing from the cut on his forehead, and he started to feel lightheaded. "Shut the fuck up!!" the man yelled when Yoongi started screaming for his mom. He left the hybrid on the floor to walk over to the table holding all of his "toys." Grabbing the duct tape and rope, he returned to Yoongi, duct taping his mouth and tying his hands behind his back. The room was sound proofed, but his screams were starting to annoy him. He leaned down and menacingly said, "Hope you're ready for a long night cat." And all Yoongi could do was endure the hits. Two hours into his punishment, Yoongi's eyes slipped closed as he lost consciousness, wishing he wouldn't wake up he next day.

End flashback

"And that's why I don't like when people touch me without asking," Yoongi sobbed uncontrollably, and you pulled him into your arms, tears of your own falling down your cheeks. "Oh Yoongi, I'm so sorry! I didn't know. You didn't deserve to go through that," your voice wavered, pulling him tighter into your chest. The guys had all walked in halfway through Yoongi's explanation, their noses picking up on the change in your hormones and smelling the salty tears. Glancing at them, you saw them crying, looking like they wanted to comfort their brother. Once you gave them the go ahead, they all rushed over and brought the two of you into a big group hug. Eventually everyone pulled away, and you cradled Yoongi's face in between your tiny hands, "Yoongs, I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'd do anything to go back in time and to make sure you didn't have to go through that." He gave you a gummy grin, wrapping his tail around your wrist. You decided right then and there, that you like seeing him with a smile, and you'd do anything for it to stay.

"Jimmie stop!" you giggled, trying to escape the calico hybrid who was torturing you with his tickles. Hearing the front door unlock and open caused you to freeze in your spot. You tried to push Jimin off of you, but he wouldn't budge, too busy trying to hear more of your laughter. The others, who had also heard what you heard, tried to help you get Jimin off, "Jimin-ah! Get off her!" Before you guys could fully get him off of you, a throat clearing was heard. Everyone froze in their spots and slowly turned their heads. Letting out a breath of relief, you relaxed your tense muscles. It was only Jisoo, your best friend and coworker. "Well, well, well. what do we have here? Am I interrupting something? I can go..." Jisoo trailed off and smirked as she saw Jimin was still sitting on you. You quickly sat up, shoving Jimin off in the process, "No! Nothings happening! He was just trying to tickle me and you know how much I hate being tickled!" "Y/n, calm down. I was just joking, but didn't Hyuk tell you to get rid of any contact with them?" Jisoo asked you curiously. You could hear the confusion in Jisoo's voice and before you could answer her, Jungkook beat you to it, "Wait. So you do want to be friends with us! It was just your asshole of a boyfriend who made you text us that!" He was growling by the time he finished his sentence. You opened your mouth, about ready to defend your boyfriend, but Jungkook continued on, "See this is why you shouldn't be with him. He's already controlling who you're friends with. Next thing you know he's controlling everything you do!" It seemed as though his growls would never cease and it would be a lie if you said you weren't slightly scared. It was Yoongi who calmed him down, seeing you flinch away from the younger hybrid, "Jungkook-ah that's enough. You're scaring her." The thought of causing you any pain or fear broke Jungkook’s heart.

"I-I didn't mean to scare you Y/n-ah!" Jungkook tried to get closer to you but whimpered when you, once again, flinched away from him. Not wanting him to feel guilty, you frantically tried to make things right, "No! it's fine Kookie. I'm just not a big fan on the growling is all.." you trailed off, not knowing what else to say. There was an awkward silence before Jisoo broke it, "So, uh, I stopped by to see if you were still coming with Minho and I to dinner on Wednesday night?" "Yeah, Hyuk and I will be there!" you answered her, shifting from one foot to the other. Seokjin looked towards your friend, and politely said, "There's this really nice restaurant over by the movie theater. It's brand new too." Namjoon, having picked up on what his fellow band mate was planning, also spoke up, "You guys should check it out, I heard it's really nice." "Actually that's not a bad idea!" Jisoo exclaimed. She then turned towards you and gave you a smile before continuing, "I'll make reservations and meet you guys there. Bye Y/n! Tell Hyuk I said hello when he gets back!" Before you could utter a response, she left your apartment, leaving you with the bts members. You opened and closed your mouth, before stuttering out a sentence, "Um, uh, I think you guys should leave. It's getting pretty late and I have to work early tomorrow." Nodding and humming their agreements, they each gave you a kiss on the cheek, no doubt making you turn a bright red, and made their way to your front door. After waving them a goodbye, you shut and locked your door. You leaned your back on it and took a few deep breaths, trying to clear your mind and calm your racing heart down. So much has happened in the last few days. First, Hyuk gets in a fight with Jungkook. Second, you get in a fight with your boyfriend, resulting in you trying to push away the seven hybrids. Third, you become friends with said hybrids again. Standing up straight, you gave a deep sigh and made your way to your bathroom. A nice, long, relaxing bubble bath should help you rid yourself of all this stress. You had no clue what you were gonna do when Hyuk came back though. You knew he would be furious if he found out you had not only invited, but also made up with the bts guys. What to do... what to do…

@child-ofthe-moon-and-leaves, @chari-a, @cjisluckycharm, @huhuehuey, @childfmoonn, @goldenkookss, @jiminsreina, @i-am-canada-13, @eilowyneleyne, @2seokkyo, @lokathefemale, @raja-in-demigodishness, @shelley-hennig14, @theshiningmoonsblog, @agoddesswithablade, @the-argus-eyed, @btsstan4life, @jinniepeachxo, @purpleheartsfortae, @nari2220, @k00kjals, @yasbts705, @moxxie84, @breadcaaat, @kpopgirlbtssvt, @kamibyul, @minyoongi-infiresme, @shaelin444, @acadevintage, @theashofwkm, @row-row-row-your-fandoms, @peachesandcreamsthings, @dinorahrodriguez, @morgsstudies-blog, @feed-my-geek-soul, @elazarofir, @lsuzi, @xsmilebitesx, @miraisnotavailable, @vannilacake, @omgsuperstarg, @danithearmy, @galaxy-gamer-girl, @vincent-stargogh, @im-emo-motherfuckers, @aijoukook, @stargazingmoonchild, @tzuyyyuuu, @heart-of-shadows-and-starlight, @starrliter, @livelifewondering, @valiantcollectorofsandwiches, @yoongisdumplingcheeks, @ahslde, @king-of-the-rain-and-wolves, @drarialynn, @marvelobsession2point0, @i-am-bisexual-and-a-girl, @mermaidchick22, @sweetkpopfan

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moveslikebucky · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: lockdown - Freeform, Fluff, Pining, also a mouse is there, First Kiss, Love Confessions, the love language of wax seals, two months shouldn't be a long time for immortal celestial beings, but when you're pining, with art!

Everyone and their mother is writing a Lockdown fic and here is my contribution! Featuring them actually staying apart for the full 2 months, Aziraphale having a lot of introspection and befriending a mouse, and little clips of Crowley sleeping away 2 months of time xD.

My magical airplane friend @akinmytua2 did beautiful and amazing art for this fic and I cried about it a lot; so if you read this for nothing else go read it for her beautiful art and show her some love! <3 <3

---

“You know,” Crowley drawls through the phone, “I could hunker down at your place. Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle, a case, of something drinkable.”

And wouldn’t that be something, Aziraphale thinks to himself. Some company right now would be lovely. The burglars had been unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. The thought of Crowley here with him drinking wine and watching him eat sends an all too familiar thrill through him.

Things had been nice lately. More relaxed. Clandestine meetings were now just days spent at the park. Lunch was no longer a means to an end, but something to be enjoyed together. None of the rendezvous points had names anymore (except when Crowley was feeling particularly ridiculous) - they were just places that they visited together. Gazes lingered, hands brushed over glasses of wine. Crowley spent more time sleeping in Aziraphale’s backroom than he ever had in the past. But, inevitably, he’d still wake up and go back to his flat - murmuring something about the plants on his way out.

“Hunkering down” seemed like a lot. There was no way to know how long this would last at the outset. Crowley could be stuck here for months. Lots of time to get sick of one fussy angel; lots of time to remember just how much Aziraphale had done wrong by him.

Besides that…they’re living by the rules of humanity now. Their own side - them and humanity. That’s what they had agreed to during their long lunch at the Ritz all those months ago. This is the important thing, to take care of them, even if it means being apart for a while longer. They’d risked everything for humanity, to save them from the forces of Heaven and Hell (actual level of usefulness notwithstanding). It wouldn’t make sense, none at all, to throw it to the wind now.

“No, I… I… I… I’m afraid that would be breaking all the rules,” Aziraphale stammers out before he can stop himself, falling back on that comfortable old pattern. “Out of the question! I’ll see you… when… this is over?”

He hopes Crowley can’t hear the sadness in his voice. That he doesn’t do what he always does and circles back. Tempt, deny, tempt, give in - their well-worn dance of centuries and millennia. Aziraphale knows if Crowley insisted he wouldn’t be able to say no.

“Right.” Crowley says with resignation in his voice. “Um... I’m setting the alarm clock for July.”

July is so far away, Aziraphale nearly tells him to stop, to not go to sleep. They can chat on the phone again, be with each other that way. Spend time together over this distance with the sound of their voices at least. He says none of this. His coward’s tongue remains silent even as his sadness builds.

“Goodnight, angel.” Crowley says in a voice soft as anything before hanging up the phone. Aziraphale sits in the silence of the darkening bookshop and tries desperately not to imagine hearing that every night.

Across town at his flat in Mayfair, Crowley taps ‘end call’ on his phone. He heaves a heavy sigh, setting a reminder for 10am on July the 1st and rolls over onto his side. It’s not all bad, he’ll see Aziraphale when this is over. Maybe he’ll tell him when all of this is over, the extent of these emotions that eat him up inside. His eyes start to fall shut as sleep begins to overtake him, and he wraps his arms around a pillow pretending that it’s an angel.

Two weeks in and he’s getting sick of it already. Aziraphale has a sweet tooth, of course, but there’s only so far that can go. He’d really love to sit down to a nice plate of gravlax and dill sauce, or maybe a coq au vin. Something luscious with a nice bit of umami. Savory, earthy, perhaps a bit spicy.

For the good of humanity he is stuck here in the shop, so he peruses his cookbook section for something a bit more savory 1. He misses restaurants. He misses the waitstaff; someone else pouring the wine for you is always a bit of a treat. He misses the clean linen tablecloths and opening a menu, starting a new journey of his own with every new establishment. He misses getting to know the chefs, blessing them and their businesses. He misses softly playing music and the chatter of humanity in a background hum around him. He misses yellow eyes behind sunglasses across the table from him. He misses clinking wine glasses together in a toast to whatever the thing of the moment is. He misses a Cheshire Cat smile, mischievous but fond, flashed at him in these moments. He misses…well, he misses a lot of things. Best not to go down that road at the moment. Nothing to be done.

He stops on an old volume called A New Booke of Cookerie , taking a second to smile to himself at how languages change and evolve. He opens it and flips through for a bit, landing on a recipe for, of all things, pickled oysters. “Halfe a pinte of white Wine, and halfe a pinte of white Wine vinegar.” Oysters sound delectable. Though maybe not pickled. But maybe…on the half shell. With some lemon juice and a bit of honey. Mixed with just a bit of wine. Briny and salty, that would be the ticket, just like-

Oh.

Just like Rome. Petronius and those oysters; good wine and good company. That had been the first of he and Crowley’s, well, he didn’t want to say ‘dates’. Actually, he did want to say dates, he ought to say ‘casual friendly lunches’. Right now though, in the still and silence of the bookshop, he can’t quite bring himself to care one way or the other.

He holds the cookbook in his hands and thinks. Thinks about the way Crowley’s long fingers curl around the stem of a wineglass. About how open and unguarded Crowley is while he drinks his espresso, content to let Aziraphale eat his fill, wanting nothing for himself. About how right now Crowley could be here, watching him eat cake.

And Crowley had said that, hadn’t he? Aziraphale hadn’t imagined it, he’s sure. An odd thing to want to do with a friend, outside of an eating establishment at least.

He puts the cookbook back on the shelf and sighs, not feeling much like cooking anything now. He has an old Milton that needs re-binding, he’ll distract himself with that for now.

Seven weeks left to go.

Snrrtt

In a flat in Mayfair, under artificial pitch black darkness (bit of a demonic miracle), a demon snores away. He snuggles up to his pillow, arms still wrapped around it. A faint mumble that could possibly sound like “Aziraphale” escapes from his lips as he continues to sleep.

Skitter skitter skitter

The scratching and skittering is driving Aziraphale up the proverbial wall. Soon enough, possibly the actual wall, if that’s where he has to go to get away from them.

Currently, he’s on his hands and knees with a broom handle, arguing with a very stubborn little mouse. It’s taken up residence under one of the larger bookshelves and refuses to see reason2. All the mouse does is stare at him with his beady little eyes while he rubs his tiny hands together.

Aziraphale does not trust the tiny little hands. Too much mischief.

He has his face pressed to the floorboards, one eye closed. He can see the mouse there, sniffing at the broom handle. He’s trying to be gentle, moving the handle slowly, trying to coax the little thing out of hiding. “Come on then, little one, not gonna hurt you,” Azirpahale coos at it through gritted teeth. “Just going to catch you and drop you outside, everything will be tip top then.”

The mouse stares at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale stares at the mouse.

The next events happen in such quick succession that they must be broken down accordingly: The mouse, sensing impending danger, shoots forward directly towards Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale, sensing an impending mouse, jumps back and screeches in a high pitched tone that only occurs when one hits the high notes in some of the harder celestial harmonies. The shelf behind him, sensing an impending angel, braces for impact as he knocks into it. Twelve of the books on the shelf, sensing impending floorboards and being able to do nothing about it, fall with various thunks and thuds, most of them landing directly on Aziraphale’s head.

[Continue reading on AO3]

#link #fic #my fic #good omens #good omens lockdown #ineffable husbands #crowley #Aziraphale #and there's mouse there #his name is Theodore #my good friend Tarek drew amazing art for this fic and you can see it on AO3 or in the post I'm about to reblog from her XD

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alphacrone · 4 years

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for it's better to burn out than to fade out of sight (1/?)

rating: T pairings: Yuki & Tohru (platonic), Tohru/Kyo, Yuki/Machi, other canon pairings & friendships summary: In the end, it wasn’t sadness Yuki felt, when Tohru Honda had her memories erased. No, it was anger. And anger he could work with. notes: manga spoilers, canon divergence

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i. i thought i found you, just to see you fading out into the night

***

Will you still be my friend?

***

In the end, it wasn’t sadness Yuki felt, nor grief, nor disbelief as Hatori slid his shoes off in their entryway with a muttered, excuse me . He did not feel dread as the doctor bowed to Tohru as she came out of the kitchen, still wearing her apron. Yuki didn’t even feel the cold trickle of fear when Hatori said, in his callous monotone, I’m here on Akito’s orders.

Numbness burned the tips of Yuki’s fingers as Kyo hurled insults at Hatori, at Shigure, at anyone and everyone. An unpleasant warmth bubbled against the skin of Yuki’s neck as Shigure impassively asked if Hatori was mistaken.

I’m sorry , Hatori said in lieu of an answer. He did not meet Shigure’s gaze, nor Yuki’s. He looked instead at Tohru.

I understand , she had replied, smiling bright as the sun, even as she cried. I understand .

She didn’t understand, in Yuki’s opinion. This wasn’t about keeping a secret; it was about punishing him .

Kyo was gone before Tohru even sat down across from Hatori. Yuki wished for that sort of freedom when his legs felt shackled to the floor. To run from this latest tragedy would be bliss.

Does it hurt? Tohru asked, hands clasped tightly together on her lap.

No , Hatori said.

Not you , Yuki thought. This won’t hurt you. Not in a way you’ll know.

She nodded, wiping at her damp cheeks as she met Yuki’s gaze. Thank you , she whispered. For everything.

Yuki didn’t cry as Hatori touched the side of Tohru’s head. He didn’t scream as she slumped over, eyes rolling back. He didn’t say anything at all as she looked up at Hatori, unseeing.

Were he that stupid cat, he might’ve raged, might’ve broken down doors or throttled Hatori for daring to take away his friend again . But Yuki bit his tongue as the good doctor left and stood still when Shigure led Tohru back to that damned tent, all alone in the woods. She would wake up in the morning and remember nothing of her time in this house. To her, Yuki would be a distant classmate, another face in the sea of students who made up the background noise of her life.

No, it wasn’t sadness Yuki felt.

It was anger.

Yuki knew grief well, knew how it frosted over his heart and froze his limbs. But anger was something new to him in this world outside the walls of the Sohma compound. He’d watched as it burned Kyo from the inside out, had felt its flaming tendrils lapping within his chest when Shigure was cruel or the cat needled him into a fight. But now, as he stood alone in the first place he’d ever considered home, rage sparked like stoked coals in the pit of his stomach.

Sadness was debilitating, but anger? Anger he could work with.

The night outside grew dark, but Yuki’s path forward seemed clearer than ever.

***

There is one thing...please...

***

Yuki didn’t mean to be in the classroom when Tohru’s friends confronted her, but in his defense, he hadn’t thought they’d have this conversation at school .

He was doodling aimlessly in the margins of his notebook, letting the morning chatter of his classmates down out the messy thoughts in his head. The two girls—Uotani and Hanajima—jumped up the moment Tohru walked into class, Uotani brandishing a crumpled piece of paper at her as she waved in greeting.

“Is this true?!” Uotani shouted. Behind her, Hanajima stood expressionless. “Did your gramps kick you out? I’ll kill him !”

“W-what?” Tohru paled and read the paper Uotani shoved in her face. “I-Yes! I mean, no! I- I didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you, I just didn’t want to worry you-”

“Of course we’d worry-”

“-a-a-and Grandpa didn’t kick me out, his house is being renovated! And he asked if I could stay somewhere else-”

“-a tent in the woods, do you know how dangerous -”

“-and Hana’s family is so big and you always say your place is too small for you and your dad-”

“-friends help each other, Tohru!” Uotani slammed her hand against an empty desk, causing Tohru to jump in surprise. “You aren’t a burden!”

Tears filled Tohru’s eyes, and she looked down at her feet. Hanajima stepped forward, having remained silent this whole time, and placed a hand on Tohru’s shoulder. “You’re going to come stay with me, okay? Mother and Father were very worried when I told them you didn’t have a place to live.”

Tohru was crying in full now, face buried in her hands. Uotani was sobbing, too, and she pulled Tohru into a tight hug, Hanajima wrapped her arms around both of them and stood patiently, eyes closed, and the other two apologized to each other in shaky hysterics. Yuki averted his eyes, wondering if he should have chosen a better time to slip that anonymous note into Uotani’s locker.

Perhaps this was for the best. Tohru would live with Hanajima’s family, then return to her family, and she’d live a normal life away from the Sohma curse and all that came with it. She would be safe; Akito would never be able to touch her on the outside.

But…

But Yuki was selfish, selfish and angry and greedy for more than watching Tohru smile from across a classroom. For once, he’d let someone near his heart, and she hadn’t run away. She’d fixed his crooked tie and protected his secret base and asked a dirty, unnatural rat to be her friend. Tohru deserved better than someone like him, but Yuki would be damned if he let her go without a fight.

He glanced at Kyo’s empty seat; the idiot had skipped class every day since Tohru had left. Yuki didn’t care what the stupid cat did with his time, but he felt a twinge of something akin to sympathy anyway. If anyone’s anger could match Yuki’s own, it was Kyo’s. The cat was born into injustice and fed nothing but pain and fear.

Yuki would rather cut his own tongue out than ever admit it out loud, but perhaps this was something they could ally against. Perhaps…

Mayu-sensei’s arrival broke Yuki from his thoughts, and he quickly shook them away. The cat was no use to him, now or ever. It was foolish to dream.

***

If my memories are erased...

***

“ You can stay at Kaibara, ” Hatori had told him over the phone, the night Tohru left. “But you cannot talk to Tohru Honda. If you or Kyo talk to her, you’ll both be transferred. My method is powerful, but not foolproof, and talking to her could spark something.” There was a pause, then, “This is what is best for everyone, no matter Shigure thinks.”

None of this was surprising, but Hatori’s cold tone was gasoline tossed on the fire of Yuki’s rage. Yuki had clenched his jaw, but did not shout when he asked, “Do you remember, when you erased the memories of my friends, when I was young? Do you remember how much I cried?”

There was a pause, then a sigh, and a soft, “Yes.”

“And Akito laughed,” Yuki had continued. “Akito laughed until he cried.”

“I’m sorry.” And Yuki believed Hatori felt remorse. He knew not a soul among them could defy Akito’s direct orders. But it wasn’t enough.

“I’m not crying now,” Yuki told him, voice cold and clear. “And when this is over, Akito won’t be laughing.”

He’d hung up before his nerves could overtake him and sank to the floor, burying his face against his knees. Threatening Hatori wasn’t as dangerous, as forbidden as threatening Akito but…

Yuki scrambled to the bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He retched, again and again until nothing was left. His body shook uncontrollably, adrenaline and fear and newfound power coursing through his veins. Yuki stood, shaky as a fawn, and felt a lightness in his limbs he’d never known before.

He couldn’t help but laugh; Yuki was toeing a dangerous line and it felt like freedom.

***

... will you still be my friend?

***

Opportunity had a funny way of sneaking up on a person.

It was raining the day Yuki noticed Tohru eating alone at her desk, for once not surrounded by Uotani and Hanajima. She didn’t seem sad or lonely, smiling softly to herself and glancing over her class notes, but Yuki could only see that tired girl emerging from her tent in the woods, feverish and small.

Don’t speak to Tohru Honda. He could hear Hatori say. This is for the best .

Who would want to be friends with someone as useless as you? Mother hissed in his head.

If normal people knew your secret, Akito had once said. It would sicken them.

They were right, he was being stupid, he was broken and cursed and disgusting. Yuki was an abomination, a shell of a person hiding an ugly truth, and Tohru was-

Will you still be my friend?

Torhu was someone he’d made a promise to, someone who’d seen the truth and smiled. Yuki took a deep breath and slowly approached her desk, lunch clutched in his hand as the classroom around him blurred into nothingness.

“Honda?” His voice came out softer than he intended, shakier. But Tohru looked up, eyes bright and kind as always, and his nerves settled. “You’re eating alone today?”

Tohru looked around, as if just realizing her friends were gone. “Oh, Sohma, hello! Um, yes, Hana needed to return some books to the library and Uo’s home sick, so it’s just me.” She smiled awkwardly.

Those ugly voices still screamed in his head, but the newly-burning rage roared louder. Yuki took another deep breath and focused on the warmth that always seemed to radiate from Tohru. She looked at him curiously, sweet and open and kind. He could do this. He would do this.

“Do you...do you mind if I join you?”

***

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#fruits basket fanfiction #fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #furuba manga spoilers #yuki & tohru #anna writes things #x-posting from ao3

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princess-of-luxure · 4 years

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Masquerade [2]

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You moved to the capital city, Altadellys, in search of job opportunities. You had anticipated several significant changes in your life, but nothing could have prepared you for almost getting robbed in an alley, only to be saved by a mysterious masked vigilante. Their mysterious appearance throws your life into chaos, and you soon find yourself swept up in the high-stakes underground operations of a group of… supervillains?!

You didn’t ask for any of this, but there’s just as much excitement amongst the potentially lethal drama. As secrets hundreds of years olds begin to unfold before you, can you be the missing link in solving a dangerous mystery, or will you bring everything to ruin?

Fandom: Reigning Passions (Visual Novel) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Gen (so far) Characters: Lyris (Reigning Passions), Main Character (Reigning Passions), Sevastian (Reigning Passions), Piama (Reigning Passions), Hazel (Reigning Passions) Content Warnings: None

Thank you everyone for voting on the last chapter! I got more votes than expected and even now I'm still getting new fans. I'm pleased to announce that choice b (Stay to try and diffuse the situation with Lyris and Piama, and hopefully get some answers) has won the vote! Hoping you enjoy this chapter.

As per usual, you can cast your vote on the end-of-chapter choice in a comment on AO3 here, or by sending me a DM or ask here on tumblr! You can also cast your vote by replying to the appropriate chapter, or by putting it in the tags of a reblog.

Chapter below the read more.

Guilt ached in your gut as you nibbled on your lower lip. It didn’t exactly feel good to blow Hazel off, but she was your best friend. It couldn’t be that difficult to reschedule, and besides, you couldn’t imagine the anxiety that would weigh on your shoulders if you didn’t discuss the hey-I’m-pretty-sure-you’re-a-masked-vigilante thing with Lyris while you had the chance. Decision made, you tried to steady your shaking hands as you typed out a reply.

You: I’m so so sorry

You: Something came up

You: Can we reschedule?

You didn’t wait for Hazel’s reply before tucking your phone back into your pocket, taking a deep breath as you assessed the situation. Lyris had mostly managed to mask his shock by now, though the intensity of his gaze on you still sent shivers down your spine. Not that you minded having a gorgeous guy’s attention, this just wasn’t exactly what you had pictured. Add the fact that Piama was still looking between the two of you with raised eyebrows, evidently waiting for an explanation, and this was starting to look like a social nightmare.

Okay, focus. You can’t spill his secret—even if you don’t have confirmation of it yet. Mustering up all your courage, you gave Lyris your friendliest smile. “Wow, fancy meeting you here!” Please go with it, please go with it, please go with it.

You could see the exact moment he snapped into the role, his charming smile overtaking his features. If you weren’t so busy trying to play off the whole situation as nothing to Piama, you would’ve probably had a bi panic. “A lovely coincidence indeed, my lady. It seems as though fate wished for us to meet.”

You stole a glance at Piama out of the corner of your eye. She still seemed surprised, but for different reasons now. “You know her, Lyris?” she asked skeptically.

“I had the pleasure of running into her earlier,” he replied smoothly, and okay, that part was technically the truth. Still, his mismatched eyes didn’t leave yours, and you had to remind yourself that the way he looked at you, like you were a jewel more precious than any known to man, was just part of his act. “I’m afraid I never got to introduce myself, however. If the lady would allow, I shall now rectify this error.”

He stepped closer to you, and you desperately fought back the blush that threatened to crawl up your cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, he bowed to you, just as he had under the guise of Peacock. “I am Lyris Rosi.” He gently caught your hand in his, raising it to his lips and brushing a feather-light kiss there.

You were pretty sure that the kiss had completely killed your last few brain cells because you found yourself stammering out your name despite the fact he already knew it. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind, releasing your hand and rising, still with that brilliant smile on his face. Plus, I guess it’s believability points for Piama. “A beautiful name for a beautiful maiden,” he complimented, and despite having heard it from him before, it still sent a jolt of lightheadedness through you. “If you would permit, I would much like to resume our earlier conversation in the privacy of my apartment?”

You heard Piama scoff, shattering the moment. “Inviting a pretty girl to your apartment already, Lyris?” She fixed him with a critical stare. “You better not make this awkward for me.”

Lyris gasped, his expression twisting into a mockery of hurt as he placed a hand to his chest. At least, you were pretty sure he was just acting. Damn, this guy was good. “You wound me, dear Piama. I assure you, my intentions are nothing but pure.”

“And yet you knew exactly what I was referring to with my comment.” Piama huffed, shaking her head before turning her gaze to you. “Do yourself a favour and avoid getting swept up in his charm. Underneath the bravado, he’s a giant nuisance.”

“You must be fond of ‘giant nuisances’ then, to hang around me so much,” Lyris noted, and you could see the familiar glint of a best friend’s teasing in his eyes.

“Hardly. Don’t get a swelled head over it.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to make some more tea. You two better behave yourselves.”

She swept from the room, and as soon as you were sure she was out of earshot, you breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping as you released tension you didn’t even know you were holding. “Sorry for putting you on the spot there,” you apologized, forcing yourself to look back at Lyris. “I had no idea you’d be here.” Obviously! You mentally chided yourself for the stupid comment.

Lyris chuckled, and you couldn’t help but notice his smile seemed a touch more genuine. “You handled that very well,” he offered, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “And pay Piama’s words no mind. She seems to have gotten quite the wrong impression about you and I.”

You tilted your head, trying to figure out how he felt about that, but he was completely unreadable. Right, well. If all else fails, resort to humour. “Well, have you given her a reason to believe that before?” you teased.

There it was—the real smile you’d gotten to glimpse earlier in the day. “I suppose there may have been an incident or two in the past,” he admitted lightly, and you found yourself drawn to the playful glimmer in his eyes. “But I believe my intentions with you should be transparent.”

“Yeaaaah.” You rubbed the back of your neck, a sudden sheepishness crawling up your spine. “Look, I’m really sorry about this. I know this must be far from an ideal situation, but—”

Lyris gently raised a hand. Startled, you froze mid sentence. “It isn’t your fault,” he reassured, the melodic tones of his voice compelling you to believe him. “If anything, I should have been more careful.”

The fact that he didn’t seem angry or upset with you washed away most of your lingering anxiety. You offered him a tentative smile, idly brushing your fingers through your hair. “You know, we probably should head to your apartment before Piama comes back.”

“She’d be quite surprised to see us still here after our previous conversation,” Lyris agreed, offering his arm out to you. Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled at this opportunity, rushing to link arms with him without tripping over your own two feet.

“So, do you do this with every girl, or am I special?” you attempted to joke as he led you up the stairs. In hindsight, you figured this may have been a mistake, but seeing the slight curve of his lips and almost fond look he gave you, maybe it wasn’t too bad.

“I am a gentleman to all the women I have the pleasure of meeting, but you are special in more ways than one.” You hoped he didn’t notice how you clung to him tighter so as to not fall over at his words. Your brain struggled to come up with a response, but thankfully you were saved by Lyris pausing in front of a door. “Here we are. I’m afraid it isn’t much, but I hope it will be satisfactory.”

He led you inside and your jaw dropped. ‘Not much’ was indisputably an understatement—you knew Spring Apartments was on the higher end of quality housing, but Lyris’s apartment was borderline a penthouse. “How do you afford this place?” you burst out, unable to help yourself, immediately clapping a hand to your mouth as embarrassment colored your cheeks.

Lyris regarded you with an amused look. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” he quipped, before gesturing to a couch that may as well have been a piece of cloud for how heavenly it looked. “Take a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

You shook your head, trying to push down your nerves as you sank into the cushions. You were right, it did feel like you were resting upon clouds. “No thanks. I already drank two cups of coffee recently, I wouldn’t want to be bouncing off your walls.” You chuckled at yourself, trying to appear more confident than you felt.

“Of course, I understand,” Lyris hummed, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed as he settled onto the couch opposite you. “Now as to what brought you here—”

“Mrrrow?” Both you and Lyris turned to look at what was the fluffiest Persian cat you’d ever seen in your life. Their long white fur was immaculately groomed, and their collar was bedazzled with… pink rhinestones. Okay, at this point you were certain Lyris either came from money, or his profession paid extremely well.

“Madame Whiskers, so nice of you to join us,” Lyris greeted, and the cat turned her judgmental stare on him. “That’s right, it’s time for your dinner, isn’t it? How silly of me to forget.”

“Mrrrow!” You didn’t speak cat, but you were pretty sure Madame Whiskers was agreeing, her gaze seeming to pierce right into your host. You noticed she had heterochromia just like her owner, though hers was of the blue and green variety.

Lyris reached down to scratch Madame Whiskers behind the ears as he addressed you. “Forgive me, Madame Whiskers gets quite huffy if she isn’t fed on time.” He bent down, placing a kiss on top of her forehead, and she blinked back at him lazily. “Now play nice with our guest, my precious princess. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Lyris vanished into one of the neighbouring rooms, leaving you alone with Madame Whiskers. You stared at her—she stared back.

You cleared your throat. Why the hell do I feel so judged by a cat? “Madame Whiskers, was it?”

She just kept on staring. Yeah, okay, that’s my fault for expecting a cat to talk back. “You seem to be a cat of high class,” you commented, awkwardly bowing to her as best you could while sitting down. “Lyris must treat you very well. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Madame Whiskers tilted her head to the side, studying you, before trotting over to jump up next to you on the couch. She then laid down in your lap, staring up at you with a look that could not have more obviously screamed pet me.

Hesitant but not wanting to risk offending her, you slowly began to rub your thumb in circles behind her ears. Soon enough, you began to notice a deep purring coming from Madame Whiskers, and more confident that you were doing the right thing, you began to rub a bit more firmly. Within moments, she was stretched out to her full length, looking completely blissed out.

“Apologies for the wait, I hope Madame Whiskers behaved—” Lyris paused mid sentence as he entered the room. He held a fancy dish of what was most likely expensive cat food in one hand, and a smirk curled across his lips as he took in the situation. “Well, would you look at that. She likes you.”

He placed the dish down. At its gentle clink, Madame Whiskers hopped off your lap and trotted over, daintily nibbling at her food. You, meanwhile, were left trying to process this new information. “She does? Does she not usually like people?”

Lyris chuckled, an amused gleam in his mismatched eyes as he sat back down. “That would be the understatement of the century. She nearly clawed poor Piama half to death when they met.”

You shuddered as you imagined what Madame Whiskers must be like when she’s upset. No wonder Piama had called her the most annoying creature on the planet. “Yeah, I think I can say I’m glad she likes me.”

“I suppose that’s just another way in which you are special.” Your name rolled smoothly off his tongue, and judging by the way he smirked at you when you went rigid with shock, he knew what he was doing to you. Has he known this entire time?!

You cleared your throat, trying desperately to save face. “As much as I’m sure we could chat about your cat for hours, we did come here for a reason.”

“Of course.” Just like that, Lyris’s flirty demeanour evaporated, a far more serious expression falling over him as he leaned forward slightly. It was a jarring change, and you fought not to squirm in place. “If I may ask, what is your understanding of the situation?”

You took a deep breath. Moment of truth. “You’re Peacock. You look exactly like him.” Not to mention acting exactly like him.

Lyris smiled. It wasn’t unkind, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It only took a second to decide you didn’t like it. “You have a good eye. Though as much as I intended to be recognized, you were not the one I was expecting.”

Your head snapped up. “You wanted to be recognized?”

“By a certain someone, yes.” Lyris crossed his arms, regarding you carefully. “Have you heard of Fox?”

One of Hazel’s statements from earlier in the day rung in your mind. After Fox disappeared, he took over as Altadellys’s protector of the night. “Just in passing,” you admitted. “My friend Hazel mentioned them. Were they like you?”

“Somewhat.” You were shocked to see his smile turn fond, real and bright. “He had his own way of going about things, but yes, we had the same ultimate goal.”

Your mind was reeling under the weight of what you’d just learned. Lyris was familiar enough with Fox to speak of him like an old and dear friend? He was hoping to be recognized by Fox? “But my friend said he disappeared,” you said eventually, your thoughts still spinning.

“That’s right. And that’s why I’m Peacock.” The explanation seemed to make perfect sense to Lyris, and yet it clarified absolutely nothing for you.

“I don’t follow,” you admitted, brows furrowing as you tried to put the pieces together. “How did Fox’s disappearance lead to you becoming Peacock?”

Lyris hummed, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “For the sake of his privacy, let’s just say he’s someone important to me. We fell out of contact years ago, but I still think about him pretty often.” He chuckled. “Nothing could prepare me for seeing him debut in the news as a masked thief, but I was hardly surprised. He’d deny it to his dying breath, but he always had a flair for the dramatic.”

And you don’t? You bit back the comment, preferring to focus on the matter at hand. “I still don’t understand. I get you guys have history, but…”

Lyris raised an amused eyebrow. “Well, of course you’re confused. There’s more to the story.”

You sank back into the couch cushions, feeling your cheeks burn. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

Lyris chuckled, which only served to increase your embarrassment. At least he didn’t seem to think any less of you for it. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. In any case, Fox goes to much further lengths to conceal his identity than I do, but there’s no disguising his powers. I recognized them immediately, but I wasn’t concerned at first. He could take care of himself, and if he needed me, he’d find me. Or at least I hoped so.” There was a flash of sadness in his eyes, gone in an instant. “Then a few months later after his shine into the spotlight, he disappeared. No news about an arrest. Nothing.”

You tilted your head. “If there was no news of an arrest, then isn’t that a good thing?”

Lyris shook his head, giving you an almost pitying look. “You have a lot to learn about Altadellys. Someone disappearing without a trace like that is never a good thing.”

You got the idea he wasn’t trying to be condescending, so you tucked that nugget of information away for later and tried to focus on the matter before you. “So you became Peacock to… look for him?”

“Close.” His mismatched eyes glittered with mischief. “It’s hard to look for someone with no leads. So I thought…” He trailed off, standing and carefully removing his vest. Unobstructed, you were able to see that the clothing he wore had a slit in the back, the function of which immediately became obvious as there was a flash of brilliant green light, revealing his beautiful wings when it faded.

You giggled even as you found yourself taking him in in all his glory. Even without the suit and mask, he was so openly and unashamedly Peacock. “You planned to lure him out with drama?”

“Precisely.” He bowed deeply before perching on the arm of the couch, careful not to disturb anything with his wings. “I’ve had no luck yet, but assuming he isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere, he can’t avoid me forever.”

You chewed on your lip, fingers fussing in your hair as you tried to decide on a course of action. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Genuine surprise flitted across Lyris’s expression for a second before he smiled. “That’s sweet of you, but it’s best if you don’t get involved. Just knowing this much is dangerous. I have just as many enemies as admirers.”

You sighed. A part of you wanted to protest, but he had a point. Besides, how were you supposed to help? You didn’t have any powers. “Alright, but if there’s anything I can do for you, anything at all…”

To your surprise, Lyris stood and closed the distance between the two of you in a few strides, close enough that you were struck by the memory of meeting him earlier in the day. “I sincerely hope that you don’t have to get dragged into my mess,” he said quietly, “but thank you. I’ll let you know.”

He pulled back, the moment over far too soon. “It’s getting late,” he murmured, eyes only briefly flickering to the window before falling back on you. “And trust me, your room is something of a mess right now.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you began to say, but Lyris was already shaking his head.

“You’d be surprised,” he replied, and you could see a mischievous glint in his eyes that was beginning to grow familiar to you. “But you know, since it’s my fault your room looks like an apocalypse hit it, the gracious thing to do would be to offer up my own.”

“What?!” Your eyes flew wide open. “I couldn’t accept that! It’s your room! Where would you sleep?”

Lyris raised his eyebrows, looking for all the world as if you’d just told a hilarious joke. “In my bed, of course. Where else?”

You choked on air, and you saw concern flicker over his face. “But— you— I—”

Lyris eased up immediately, his eyes bright as he chuckled. “I was only joking. I’ll take the couch. It’s only fair,” he explained lightly, before he paused, leaning in. “Unless, of course, you would prefer to share.”

Your brain screeched to a halt. Did he just say—?! You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to calm your racing thoughts. Yeah, okay, he did offer to share the bed with you. He seems serious about it, too. You’d never had an attractive guy offer to share his bed with you before. It would be madness to pass this opportunity up. Summoning all your courage, you looked Lyris in the eyes, your voice firm. “You know what? I think I would prefer that.”

If your response shocked him, he didn’t show it at all. In fact, he actually looked pleased. “Come with me, then.” He extended a hand to you. As you took it, he laced your fingers together, bringing your joined hands to his lips to place another kiss there. Once again, the action caused a stirring of butterflies in your stomach, but you did your best to conceal it. Two can play at his game. Don’t let him win.

Lyris’s bedroom was incredibly lavish, but your eyes landed on his bed and never left. The queen-sized bed had a mattress that looked heavenly to you right now, fancy pillows perfectly fluffed, pale green silk sheets neatly folded over the bed. Your exhaustion from the day’s events hit you all at once, and it was all you could do not to collapse on the bed then and there.

Lyris’s hand left yours, and you glanced over at him only to nearly choke again as he began to strip down without a care. He hummed a small tune under his breath as he removed his various pieces of jewellery, his shirt coming off next with practiced expertise. In a matter of moments, he stood almost completely naked before you, his underwear the only thing remaining. Jesus, is every person in Altadellys this ripped or have I just been getting lucky?

Lyris looked over at you, a smirk curling across his lips as he caught you staring. “Do you see something you like, my lady?”

“Uh—no! I mean, yes! I mean—gah!” You turned away from him, trying to ignore his satisfied laugh as you stripped down to your bra and underwear. Once you finished, you turned back to the bed, finding Lyris already relaxed on one side of it, though to your surprise (and gratitude) he had his eyes politely averted.

He evidently felt your weight settle into the mattress as you laid down, and he reached out to turn off the lights. “Rest well,” he offered up to the darkness, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“You as well.” There was no more talking. As you curled up beneath the blankets, you began to wonder if you could fall asleep, hyper aware of Lyris’s weight and warmth right beside you, but soon the events of the day began to wear at your consciousness and you drifted away. Your dreams were filled with hazy images of peacocks and foxes and masks.

You awoke the next morning to find Lyris’s side of the bed empty. You fought back the disappointment that tried to settle in your stomach, reaching for your pants (that had been neatly folded and placed next to the bed, you noted curiously) to fish your phone out of their pocket.

You swiped over to your messenger out of instinct, noting a couple texts from Hazel and… one from an unknown number. Blinking in surprise, you checked the timestamp, finding it was sent at 3:42AM—in other words, while you were fast asleep. Who in the world would be messaging me at quarter to four in the morning? Curiosity compelled you to open the message.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Are you Amara’s friend?

You stared at the message, hands trembling slightly. Normally you would’ve blocked the number and paid it no mind, but this stranger had mentioned Amara. You were pretty sure that wasn’t the world’s most common name, which meant that whoever this was, you had a common acquaintance. Unless they were stalking you. Gods, you really hoped they weren’t stalking you.

You: Yes? Who are you?

Given their apparently abnormal sleeping schedule, you really weren’t expecting them to reply for a while, but immediately, the typing dots showed up, as though they had been waiting for your response.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You may call me Owl.

Another animal themed alias? You couldn’t deny your suspicions were raised, narrowing your eyes at your phone. Just like Fox and Peacock… but I haven’t heard of an Owl. And what connection would they have to someone like Amara, anyway?

You: Okay, Owl. What do you want from me?

In the time it took them to reply, you quickly added them to your contacts, figuring ‘Owl’ would be a lot less unnerving than a string of numbers. When you looked back at your messages, they had already responded. Damn, they type quick.

Owl: Nothing. I simply needed to verify your identity. When are you planning on applying to Optimus?

A jolt of shock and even mild fear ran down your spine before you remembered that Amara had mentioned a friend yesterday who could help you with applying for an internship. It must be Owl. You were going to pray it was Owl, or you were probably fucked.

You: Uh, later today, I think.

Once again, Owl’s response was immediate.

Owl: Thank you. I will keep watch for your application.

Owl: I’ll erase any traces of this conversation now.

You nearly choked, fingers fumbling with the phone in your haste to type.

You: What why?!

Owl: It’s for your safety. Have a good day.

Before you had a chance to further protest, the messages disappeared from your screen, leaving you with a blank DM with the mysterious Owl. You were about to try sending them a new message, bewildered, when you remembered the texts from Hazel. Shoot, how did I forget that?!

You quickly opened them, finding that they were both from yesterday afternoon, before you’d headed to Lyris’s apartment.

Hazel: Np

Hazel: Amara and I were looking to hang out somewhere this weekend so we’ll let u know abt that if u want

You: That’d be great, Hazey

You: Sorry for the way late reply, I got distracted

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.~” You almost dropped your phone as Lyris walked into the room, looking up at him with wide eyes. He was thankfully(?) clothed, though still sans vest, that unbearably attractive smirk curled across his lips. “Did you have nice dreams?”

“Uh… weird dreams, more like,” you replied, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to look presentable. “What about you?”

“With you here, my lady? Best I’ve ever had,” Lyris replied with a playful wink, before taking on a slightly more serious demeanor. “I went out to grab breakfast, and a certain flowery devil roommate of yours accosted me on the way back. Seems like she’s pretty insistent on taking you out shopping for some new clothes today.” Despite his seemingly uninterested words, you couldn’t help but notice an excited glint in his eyes. “Though if you ask me, she’s scoping out the competition.”

“Competition?” You raised your eyebrows, and Lyris chuckled, leaning forward as if to share some scandalous conspiracy.

“Piama’s a fashion designer,” he explained with a hum. “Her talents are almost unparalleled, but don’t tell her I said that.” His attitude shifted again, lips curving into a frown as his eyes darkened. “Unfortunately, talent doesn’t matter as much as influence in Altadellys.”

“But that’s not fair.” The words were spilling out before you could stop them. Lyris gave you another pitying look.

“It isn’t,” he agreed, “but that’s the way things are in Altadellys. If you’ve got money, you’ll succeed.” He sighed softly.

Your insides still burned red hot at the injustice of it, but you were also smart enough to realize that not only were you just one person, you were also a nobody in Altadellys. As much as you wanted to help Piama, you couldn’t think of a viable way to do so. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Once you opened them again, you moved on. “Well, I’d definitely love to have a fashion designer’s help in picking a new outfit.”

“Hey, I know my way around high fashion too.” Lyris gave you a mock hurt look that was so convincing you almost felt bad. Almost. “Haven’t you seen me?”

You laughed, and were rewarded by seeing the fake frown immediately turn to his genuine, gentle smile. “Don’t worry, you silly peacock,” you chided, relishing in the way his eyes lit up at the subtle nod to his alter ego. “I couldn’t forget about seeing you even if I wanted to.”

The smile was replaced by a smirk. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he said smoothly, sending an electric jolt down your spine. Before you had a chance to react, he turned away from you, grabbing a hairbrush off the dresser. “I’ll give you some privacy. When you’re ready, I grabbed a blueberry muffin for you, it’s on the kitchen counter. Hope you’re not allergic.”

You giggled despite the heat still staining your cheeks red. You figured it would be a while until you got used to how Lyris could change between personas in a snap, flirty to serious to friendly in the blink of an eye. “No allergies here. And thanks.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He swept from the room, and you wasted no time in getting ready for the day. You were in the middle of trying to tame your hair with a few hair ties when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Hazel: Distracted huh? :p

You nearly choked, suddenly grateful you were alone as you fumbled to not drop your phone.

You: Hazel!!!

You: It is SO not like that!!!

Hazel: LOL

Hazel: Sorry Freckles I had to tease ya

You rolled your eyes at your phone. You loved Hazel, really, you did, but she was going to be the death of you.

You: You definitely didn’t.

Hazel: Definitely did

Hazel: Best friend duties and all that

You: So should I start teasing you about Amara?

Hazel: If u wanna

Hazel: I mean shes cute

Hazel: And have u SEEN her

You: Hazey! Do you mean to tell me that my best friend has a crush and I didn’t know about it?

Hazel: LOOOOL

Hazel: Nah just aesthetic attraction tbh

Hazel: We’ll see tho

There was a knock on the door. “You alright in there?” Lyris called. “Not to rush you if you have a very detailed morning routine because I get that, but Madame Whiskers can only hold off Piama for so long.”

“I’ll be right there!” you called back, quickly typing a goodbye to Hazel.

You: Okay you useless lesbian, I’ve gotta run though.

You: My roommate and a friend are taking me clothes shopping.

Hazel: uwu have fun I’ll lyk abt any plans w/ Amara

You slipped your phone into your pocket and finished getting ready, heading out to the living room, pausing to grab the muffin from the kitchen. You found Lyris relaxed on the couch, more or less the same as he was earlier except he had now donned his vest and his hair was done up in its usual braids. Madame Whiskers was curled up by the entrance to the apartment, eyeing the door with the intensity of a hawk watching its prey.

You cleared your throat, unsure of what to say, and Lyris looked up. He offered you a small smirk before softly clicking his tongue twice. Immediately, Madame Whiskers got up, trotting over to her owner’s side and laying back down.

“Piama, you can come in now,” Lyris called, and immediately the door opened, revealing a very huffy Piama.

“Why do you let the cat have more authority in your own home than you do?” Piama complained, before her eyes landed on you. A bright smile immediately lit up her face. “Oh, good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“Uh.” Your brain decided this was an excellent time to remind you that you had shared the bed with Lyris. “Yeah, I slept fine.”

You realized your embarrassment must’ve been showing on your face as Piama grinned. “You’re blushing,” she noted, her tone filled to bursting with thinly veiled excitement. “Did something happen that I should know about?~”

“Now now Piama, don’t you think it’s rather impolite to ask another lady to kiss and tell?” Lyris reprimanded, arching one eyebrow. You breathed a sigh of relief as Piama turned to him, mouthing ‘thank you.’ He gave you a short nod.

You could see that Piama was pouting, but she quickly relented under Lyris’s unimpressed stare. “Fiiiine,” she sighed. She looked back to you. “I’m sorry.”

You offered her your best reassuring smile. “It’s alright. But just for the record, nothing happened between Lyris and I last night.”

That gave Piama pause, blinking in shock. “Wait, seriously? I thought for sure that…”

“Assumptions are a dangerous thing, Piama,” Lyris noted, coming to stand by you. “But I am rather curious as to why you’re so invested in this. Are you perhaps jealous?”

“What? No!” Piama puffed out her cheeks. “Sure, she’s cute, but I—” She stopped, groaning as she realized what he’d just got her to admit. “Lyris, I hate you.”

Lyris hummed, smirking in satisfaction. “Love you too, Piama.” You, meanwhile, were currently trying to process the fact a pretty woman had called you cute.

If looks could kill, you were pretty sure the glare Piama gave Lyris would’ve made him keel over on the spot. “You think she’s cute too,” she accused.

Lyris shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it. “Perhaps. But she’d look cuter in some more updated fashions, don’t you think?”

That was apparently an acceptable distraction for Piama, and soon enough, you found yourself in the largest clothing store you’d ever seen. Your companions navigated it with practiced ease, playfully bantering and bickering back and forth the entire time.

They were debating what shade of green you’d look best in when your thoughts began to drift. You couldn’t really keep up with what the pair were discussing, so you decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look around on your own for a bit. “Hey, guys? Is it okay if I wander off for a sec?”

Lyris’s gaze slid over to you for a second as he gave you a brief nod, before returning to animatedly arguing with Piama. Permission granted, you picked a random direction and started walking, not really minding where you ended up.

Your path eventually found you in the store’s jewellery section, and you surveyed the large array of glittering trinkets with awe. Wow. It was pretty much all you could think. All of this is at least ten times fancier than anything I ever saw back home. You frowned as you took note of their price tags. And at least ten times more expensive.

Even so, your eye was still drawn to a sparkling silver necklace. Pale green crystals decorated it with leaves and flowers, and despite the fact you had never been one for luxurious accessories such as this, you found yourself checking the price tag anyway. A hundred and fifty dollars. You sighed, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in your stomach. Oh well, not like I was expecting any different.

You turned to leave only to squawk as you nearly collided with someone, a slight chill shocking you at the point of contact. “Oh shoot, I’m so sor—!”

The sentence died on your tongue as you took a step back, flicking your eyes up to fully take in this dizzyingly handsome stranger. Long black hair streaked with a gorgeous dark blue fell neatly past his shoulders, his head cocked to one side as he surveyed you. You had to repress a shudder under the intensity of his gaze, light purple eyes seeming to pierce right through to your soul and pinning you in place. His deep, deep neckline (if it could even be called that!) did nothing to conceal most of his torso, allowing you a good look at just how powerfully built he was. Fuck. Why do I keep embarrassing myself in front of hot guys?!

You realized he was still staring down at you, expression expectant, and you quickly cleared your throat. “Oh, um. I’m sorry.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow, the absolute picture of arrogance. “You should be more careful where you step,” he reprimanded, catapulting you from bi mode into indignation. Well, mostly.

You put one hand on your hip, giving him an extremely cross look. “Hey, you were the one who snuck up on me without making a damn sound.”

The stranger huffed in amusement, which only made your irritation flare higher. “And yet you still felt it necessary to apologize to me.”

You refused to tell him that it was because you were too flustered to think straight. “That was before you started acting like a haughty princeling.”

A smirk twitched across his lips, and god damn it all, it was just as stupidly attractive as Lyris’s. “You aren’t from here, are you?”

“No, I’ve lived here all my life and I’m just really obsessed with out-of-town fashions, can’t you see?” you snarked back, already not in the mood for bullshit. You tried to be a nice person, you really did, but sometimes…

“My mistake.” His tone didn’t change at all, smirk unfaltering. “I wasn’t aware that any self-respecting Altadellian would take interest in such things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Did you need something or are you just going to stand around insulting me?”

“Perhaps, if it proves entertaining.” Holy shit was this guy a smug bastard. You kind of wanted to punch him in the jaw right now, but as you were in a public space, you refrained.

“Right, well.” You weren’t going to stand here and be some arrogant jerk’s plaything. “If you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.” You stepped around the stranger, though you had barely managed to take a few strides when you heard him call after you.

“Leaving so soon? And here I was considering helping you.”

You gritted your teeth, slowly turning to face him. At least he didn’t look as condescending as before, which was lucky—for him or for you, you didn’t know. “And what could you possibly help me with?”

He tilted his head towards the necklace you’d been admiring, smirk returning. It took all your willpower not to leave then and there. “I couldn’t help but notice you were ogling that necklace there.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. Patience. “What about it?”

He didn’t say anything, just giving you an amused, smug look. Before you had a chance to further press, the stranger reached into his pocket, withdrawing several crisp hundred dollar bills. He held them out to you, and in your shock, you took them without thinking.

After a moment, the action fully processed, and you narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Why are you giving me this?” you asked, tone laced with infinite skepticism.

The stranger shrugged one shoulder, looking for all the world as if he didn’t care about the large sum of money he’d just given away. “I have no use for it.”

A voice calling your name stole your attention. Turning to look for the source, you found Lyris nearby, evidently searching for you. You waved to him. “Over here!”

Lyris made his way over to you, a small smile on his face. His expression immediately became filled with curiosity as he noticed the bills in your hand, folding his arms as he nodded to them. “Well now, that’s quite the sum of money you’ve got there. Where’d you get it?”

“Oh! It was given to me by—” You turned to point out the stranger, only to find he was gone. Scanning the aisles, he appeared to have disappeared without a trace. “—this man here. Huh, that’s strange. He was just behind me.”

You looked back at Lyris, who was frowning. “What did he look like?”

Well, at least it wasn’t hard to remember that. You had been having a bi panic over him before he’d opened his mouth. “Long black hair, dark blue streaks. Light purple eyes. His neckline could barely even be considered that—” You stopped as you noticed something strange flit over Lyris’s expression. “Are you alright?”

Lyris shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but feel as though his smile was fake as he surveyed the nearby area as well. “Whoever he was, he’s gone now.” He didn’t seem willing to dwell on the topic.

You sighed dejectedly. “That’s so weird. I have no idea how he could’ve slipped away in the second I turned my back.” You glanced down at the bills in your hand. “Well, I shouldn’t waste this. He gave me these for a reason, so…”

Your gaze slipped back to the necklace. Lyris followed your line of sight and grinned. “Are you sure you don’t have powers?” he asked teasingly, voice hushed. “You must be psychic to pick an accessory that will go so perfectly with the dress Piama wants you to try.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. After dealing with such an enigma of a man, Lyris’s teasing was a familiar comfort. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I spontaneously develop powers,” you quipped. “Lead the way?”

The dress Piama had picked was a simple off-the-shoulder one, green and white with swirling silver trim. It fit you perfectly, and as you stared into the dressing room mirror, you couldn’t help but think, wow, Lyris was right. It’s like the necklace and this dress were made to be a set.

You stepped out and Piama gave a little squeal. “You look like a princess!” she complimented enthusiastically, beaming.

“She’s right,” Lyris confirmed, which might have been the first time you’d heard them agree this entire trip. “You look like an Altadellian, born and bred.”

You went to thank them both before remembering what Lyris had said last night to you about Altadellys. You hesitated. Do I really want to look like I belong in a city that’s apparently much darker than its glittery surface? The thought made your gut twist with unease, but you were pretty sure his statement was meant as a compliment. “Thank you?” Even so, you couldn’t keep the slight questioning tone out of your voice.

Piama turned to Lyris, eyes bright. “This has got to be the one. It’s like it was made for her!”

“You certainly aren’t wrong,” Lyris agreed. “Not to mention I doubt we could find something else we agree on. However…” His gaze flickered over to you. “I believe it should be her final decision.”

You weren’t exactly eager to spend another few hours waiting while your friends bickered about something you really didn’t understand, and the dress was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked. “I like it too,” you decided. “I’ll take it.”

Piama clapped her hands together with glee. “I knew you would! No one will be able to take their eyes off you.”

Looking between Lyris and Piama’s resplendent outfits, you were pretty sure you still looked plain by comparison, but you decided not to comment. “Well, I don’t know about that…”

“Don’t undersell yourself,” Lyris gently reprimanded, and you glanced up at him, surprised. “You were already prettier than half the girls in Altadellys. The outfit just makes it more obvious.”

“Lyris!” Piama pouted, placing her hands on her hips.

Lyris chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Did I not say half the girls in Altadellys? You are as beautiful as ever, Piama, do not worry.”

You didn’t really catch the rest of their banter as Lyris’s words finally sunk in. What?! Heat blossomed in your cheeks as you shook your head, trying desperately to retain your composure. This isn’t the first time he’s said something like this… is he… flirting with me?

“Hey, are you listening?” You jumped as Piama’s voice cut into your reverie.

“She seems a little flushed,” Lyris noted, smirking like the cat who got both the canary and the cream. “Are you feeling well?”

Damn you. Damn you damn you damn you. Well, two could play at that game. “Maybe I do feel a little sick,” you countered, looking him in the eyes. “I feel weak, and my heart rate is through the roof. Do you know what’s wrong with me, Doctor Rosi?”

Lyris’s eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered delight as he leaned forward, tapping his chin in mock thought. “Those are quite the serious symptoms. I diagnose you with a case of… feelings.”

You let out a dramatic gasp, placing one hand to your forehead as if in terrible agony. “Feelings! Oh, woe is me. Doctor, tell me—will I survive this affliction?”

Lyris gave you a look of such forlorn pity you almost broke character to laugh. “Unfortunately, neither time nor medicine can heal this malady. There are ways to ease the symptoms though…” Mischief curled the corners of his lips.

“I beg of you, tell me what I can do to ease my pain—” You made to mock stumble, only to misjudge your footing and actually trip over your own two feet. You saw Lyris’s act drop as he immediately reached out to catch you, pulling you close to keep you steady. There was a fierce determination in his eyes as he glanced down at you, and you could practically see Peacock’s mask on him.

“Get a room, you two!” The moment was shattered by Piama’s exclamation, and you flushed an even deeper red, looking over to see her grinning widely and slightly conspiratorially. “I mean, tell me everything, but still, get a room.”

You disentangled yourself from Lyris’s arms, hiding your face in your hair as you determinedly looked anywhere but at the two of them. Lyris, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed, as you heard him chuckle. “As wonderful as your suggestion sounds, Piama, I believe I’m booked for the rest of the day.”

That caught you by surprise, enough for you to temporarily break free of your embarrassment to glance over at him. He gave you a subtle wink, and you immediately understood that oh, he’s going to go do vigilante stuff as Peacock.

Piama, who was evidently not in on the secret, gave an incredulous huff. “Seriously? This has been happening way too often recently. I’m crossing out the partner theory because you’ve been soooo blatantly flirting with her, so what the heck have you been up to?”

Lyris gave her a mysterious smile. “It seems I’m more and more in demand these days. You know how it is—you can never get a moment of peace when you’re someone like me.” He gave an exaggerated sigh, before turning to you. “I’ll leave you in Piama’s hands, but if something does happen… call me.”

“I don’t have your number,” you pointed out, but this only caused him to smirk.

“My mistake. We’ll have to fix that then, won’t we?”

Oh. OH. Holy shit, he was asking for your number. A hot guy… was asking for your number. A hot guy you’d seen almost naked and shared a bed with was asking for your number. You nearly dropped your phone in your haste to pull it out. “Oh, right! Of course, just let me…” You opened up a blank contact, naming it ‘Lyris’ before handing it over to him.

He inputted his number with a smirk, and you quickly sent him a text so that he’d have yours. “I’ll be on my way then. Don’t be a stranger, darling.” He offered you one last wink before turning and striding away. You could only watch him disappear into the crowd, your mind still trying to process what had just happened.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you not to fall for his charms?” Piama’s playful reprimand brought you back to reality. “Though I guess I can’t blame you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, one, it’s not what you think, and two… do you mean to imply you might’ve caught feelings for him too?”

“If I had, it would’ve made me no different to half the girls in Altadellys,” Piama replied, and you couldn’t help but note the deflection. She didn’t seem to want to linger on it either, giving you a smug smile. “But he’s definitely never flirted with me like that.”

“Piama…” You sighed, shaking your head, though you found yourself unable to be truly upset with her. “Let’s just go home. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Piama pouted, evidently not quite ready to give up this piece of juicy gossip, but she did relent easily enough. It was almost a relief to sprawl across your apartment’s couch with a cup of coffee and a packet of oreos, laptop balanced precariously on your knees as you idly clacked at the keys to fill out your application to Optimus.

You had half an oreo caught between your teeth as you finished, hitting the send button with a sigh as you shut your laptop and leaned back on the couch. Piama was holed up in her room working on a new design so you really weren’t sure what you could—

A loud chiming interrupted your thoughts and you jumped, barely managing to avoid spilling your drink everywhere. You quickly opened your messenger, expecting the text to be from Hazel or maybe even Lyris, only to stop and stare as you recognized the sender.

Owl: I’ve processed your application for you. They should be expecting you to start working tomorrow morning.

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you hastened to reply.

You: Already??? How did you do that so fast? I sent it in like, a second ago.

Wait.

You: TOMORROW MORNING???

Owl: I had assumed you’d want to start working as soon as possible. Altadellys is a treacherous city, after all. Hardly a place for someone with no money.

Lyris said the same thing, more or less… You sighed, chewing on your lip. Well, I guess I probably shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?

You: Right, sorry. Well, thank you.

Owl: Don’t mention it.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, and you waited for Owl to wipe your DMs like they had done earlier in the day. To your surprise, the messages remained. You were about to ask them about it when a thought occurred to you. Wait, this is my chance to get to know more about them! Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to—

A text from Hazel flashed onto your screen and you clicked on it out of instinct.

Hazel: Ok so I know I said this weekend 4 plans with Amara but we got 3 last minute tickets 4 a musical and it’s happening, like, now

...crap.

CHAPTER CHOICE

You've faced with a crossroads! You have the opportunity to gather some information on the mysterious friend of Amara's, Owl, but if you do, you won't be able to go see a last-minute musical with Amara and Hazel. Do you: A) Continue texting with Owl B) Go see the musical with Amara and Hazel

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