Hi! Ya'll can call me Wyrm! | 21 | Let's see what we can make of this, shall we?
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Well, I mean... it is Halloween 🎃/hj
mutuals in law are the scariest people in the world. like. your friends think im cool. kicks rocks like a stupid fucking idiot
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Have I accidentally started a boop war with you?/lh
Perhaps, question is... are you prepared to face such a monumental conflict?/j/lh
#Of course...#You could always just... wave the white flag#Kidding! Kidding... unless/j#Also#just realized that this is the first ask I've received on this blog...#Seriously need to get around to making that introduction post sometime soon 😅
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Yippee!
I'd like to be tagged for the preening fic as well, if you'd be cool with that? 👀
yes of course <3 i will tag you too!!!
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sonic the hefgehof
Hey! That's pretty good!
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Æck, fuck!
Yes, indeed.... I did mean the fourth
Not... not the thirth XD
Um, anyways, yeah I'd 100% recommend digging into Star Wars lore, it's fucking awesome dude. Disney Star Wars tends to be very hit or miss, but the old EU (now referred to as "Legends") is where it's really at. Like, seriously, it just feels so... complete. Characters with like, one scene in the movies get whole ass character arcs, it's fucking insane!
Happy Star Wars day, may the 3th be with you, Aphe!
something tells me you might have meant the 4th......... /LH
#Gods I must have been not quite fully awake the morning I sent that ask#Seriously how do you make an error like that?#Fucking *Thirth*#Edit: hell there's a character with like. Five seconds of screen time. Got a WHOLE FUCKING CHARACTER ARC in the old EU
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'Clint' by Clint Langley for the Battletech Card Game
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BLEED. — in which the Knave attends to her wounded little sibling.
— trigger & content warnings. depictions of injuries & blood, descriptions of violence, implied murder. 1.4k words.
— pairings & notes. hurt/comfort. arlecchino & younger sibling!reader. reader is a member of the fatui. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). arlecchino is referred to using her real name.
— author's notes. arle <3
"Oh, you— you came."
Their surprise was evident, written all over their features as they stared up at the Harbinger. The eerie, echoing click of her heels cut through the silence that, upon her entry, had befallen the Fatui's medics. The microexpressions on her face—brows furrowed inwards, gaze focused on nothing else but them, and lips pointed vaguely downwards—promised a fate far worse than death for anyone who dared to interrupt her.
Arlecchino was a calm, even-tempered woman...
...That is, she was a calm and even-tempered woman when her beloved little sibling was both safe and well. However, the blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around the lower half of their torso made it clear that they were not well. Safe, yes, but well? That, they most certainly were not.
Her tall stance cast a shadow over their body. Perhaps if they were anyone else, they would currently be fearing for their life... but as they gazed up at her with a meek smile, it occured to them that they were definitely concerned (though undoubtedly in a far more lighthearted way than any other person would be).
"You look so scary like this," they giggled timidly, snapping their gaze away and looking anywhere but at her. Subconsciously, their fingers fidgeted with the blanket draped over their legs. "Don't be mad... I messed up a bit. You know. Things— things happen..."
Arlecchino sighed, cutting them off: "Are you wounded anywhere else, [Name]?"
"No. Just there."
"I see," she muttered thoughtfully, rolling up her sleeves. The inky darkness of her curse pulsed and spread, crawling further up her arms than it usually did—they couldn't help but frown slightly. Nonetheless, they said nothing of it. She would surely brush them off and tell them to worry more about themselves if they did.
Arlecchino turned to the nervous agents in the room; the second they did, everyone immediately tried to appear busy, whipping their bodies away from the direction of the Knave and her baby sibling with such speed that it surely gave a few of them whiplash. "You all are dismissed."
'Get out. Now.'
With polite acknowledgments to her unspoken command, heads bowing to the Fourth, the Fatui's medics were quick to leave, urgency evident in their speedy steps. Anything they had been working on was long forgotten and left behind; certainly, the soldiers were unconcerned with their work. If anything, the only thing they were concerned with was getting away from Arlecchino. It wasn't very difficult to understand why.
No agent wanted to so much as imagine what might happen if they were to somehow invoke her fury, especially now of all times.
Once the final agent had left, and the heavy double doors shut—shockingly without any echo; perhaps the medics were afraid that even closing the door forcibly enough would agitate the Harbinger—their eyes shifted upwards.
"Peruere..." they murmured softly, straightening their spine somewhat and removing the blanket from their legs so that they could gingerly swing them over the side of the bed. They wished not to agitate their wound further—it still throbbed and ached, so they knew that one incorrect move would render them doubled over in pain. Their elder sister took notice of their enhanced caution.
"Did they give you any medication yet?" Arlecchino—Peruere, rather, inquired. She turned away from them briefly, speedily shuffling through the medical supplies on a nearby table. Scissors, gauze, antibacterial ointment...
"They tried, but nothing worked... well enough, that is. My fever has gone down since I arrived and it hurts slightly less, but it just hurts far too much for any of their weaker painkillers to be effective. This base isn't well-equipped to handle wounds like this."
Even breathing was a chore, really; each time their chest rose and fell, painful sparks clawed through their skin, originating at the gash in their side.
"Hm." Her face twisted and soured somewhat. "...I suppose I have no choice but to speak to the Doctor once we return to the Motherland, then."
Peruere then began thoroughly scrubbing her hands with special attention to the underside of her nails in one of the medical sinks, as to ensure that she did not cause any kind of infection to fester in their wound.
Their breath hitched, and they immediately went on to frantically ask, "Aren't you busy? You don't have to come with me. I can return by myself, it really isn't a big deal... even if that means talking to him—"
"No." Her eyes shifted to their direction (and for a moment, she couldn't help but think that they looked a little bit like a kicked puppy—dejected and pouty, as if they had somehow upset her). The Knave's tone softened slightly. "No. I do not trust the Doctor around you, nor do I trust these agents to ensure your safety. You are injured. I am the only one who can ensure no harm will befall you."
"I can defend myself," they asserted. "I'm your sibling, you know."
"I have no doubt that you can," she softly assured, drying her hands with a clean towel. "However, at the moment, you are in no condition to fight."
With that, she collected the necessary items and walked back towards their bed. Setting all but the scissors aside, she kneeled down, and began cutting away at the gauze.
"Did they clean your wound?"
"Yes."
She hummed in ackowledgement.
Peruere's gaze softened somewhat at the sight of their wound—still wet with blood, the perimeter of the wound lined in matte crimson. She observed the way their stomach heaved with each breath.
Scorching flames burned in her veins. Had she not known any better, she would resolve to deliver a fate far worse than death to whoever did this, to personally escort them straight to the lowest circle of hell and splatter their guts across the floor.
(She awaited and anticipated the day that the Doctor somehow, in some way, brought harm to her sibling. Should that day ever arrive, she would finally have a reason, an excuse, to reunite him and the previous Knave.
Peruere was patient. She could wait.)
...She did know better, however, and her sibling was just about as much of a force as she was.
Whoever did this was certainly already well-acquainted with the devil.
After squeezing some of the antibacterial ointment onto her fingertips, she gingerly spread it across the area of their wound.
They grimaced somewhat, body instinctively snapping away from her hands. Peruere's freehand shot out to grab their hip with enough pressure to keep them in place but not enough to hurt them any further.
"Shh. Be still."
"But it stings," they whined, shooting her an accusatory glance; there was a glimmer of mischief in their glazed eyes, however, and she immediately understood that whatever they were going to accuse her of was unserious in its nature. "You're making it hurt on purpose."
At that, the Harbinger rolled her eyes. It was clear that there was no true agitation behind the gesture.
"No, it doesn't, and no, I assure you that I am not," she replied calmly, continuing to spread the ointment to ensure that every part of the injury was adequately lathered. "I put nothing on it that would make it hurt. Don't be dramatic."
"Ahh... you're so mean, Per..." they sighed dramatically. "So terribly mean to your beloved, wounded baby sibling~"
She chose not to feed into their mischief. Instead, she began winding the gauze around their body. Once she felt that it was properly wrapped—covered with enough layers to keep dirt and debris out of their flesh and blood—she pulled. "Is this too tight?"
A soft hum rose from their throat as they inhaled as to ensure that it really wasn't too tight, even when they breathed deeply. "No. The pressure helps with the pain, actually."
The Harbinger nodded, securing the end of the gauze. She then rose—though not fully, and rather bent at the waist somewhat to meet them at eye-level. The hand that was void of any residue from the cream softly carressed their face.
Her pupils bore into theirs, thumb rubbing back and forth across their cheekbone. She was mindful as to avoid scratching them with her nail. Though she often told others not to gaze into her eyes for too long—'What you see may not be very pleasant,' she would say—they seemed to be an exception.
In her eyes, as most do, they saw destruction, death, and madness. In them, it did not induce fear. It made them feel safe.
And perhaps that made them no less mad then their elder sister was.
That fate, however, was one that they were content with.
The Knave withdrew, though not before placing a tender kiss on the crown of their head.
"Rest now. We will depart for Snezhnaya when you awaken again."
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nice to see miyazaki has the same writing process as me
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Dire Balemoon
(I will color this later)
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Mama birb 🥹
little colt.
summary. xianyun cannot help but take in another child. perhaps, in the future, they may become a disciple of hers.
trigger & content warnings. none applicable.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, found family-ish. xianyun & child!reader. 2k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next.
author's thoughts. bird mom propaganda RAHHHHHH btw if you find a typo no you didn't i'm sleepy but i wanted to post this........
Cloud Retainer has taken on many disciples in her time, and she has loved each and every one as if they were her own.
It was, therefore, quite unlikely that she woukd cease to take on disciples anytime within the forseeable future. Her love was extensive, far beyond what most mortals would be able to comprehend, and her capacity for intimate and tight bonds was even moreso. She has taken on many disciples over the years, and she has loved them all like her own children.
Perhaps it could be attributed to her adeptal instincts; she can recall many a time during which her fellow adepti, upon bonding closely with another being, became exceedingly protective of them. It was only natural—adepti lived for so long and were often affected by their more nonhuman instincts. It wouldn't be improbable to imagine that the need to bond with other beings would grow strong over so many years.
...Then again, it could always simply be attributed to her. In her mind, there was little need for any such justification like 'instincts.' She could scoff at the idea—she was no mere animal. 'Instincts' could not begin to fully explain the depth of her love and care; it was surely infinitely more complicated than the mere maternal urges that a simple crane, a wild animal, might have. She was infinitely more intricate and convoluted than an uncomplicated bird.
(That, however, did not change the fact that she did tend to have bird-like habits. Preening, nesting in her own way... She preferred not to bring attention to that fact, however.)
Regardless of the reason, the truth was that she was lonely, even if she vehemently denied it whenever someone brought up the idea. Mt. Aocang was... quiet, dreadfully so without the constant presence of Ganyu or Shenhe or any of her other disciples. She enjoyed the silence to an extent, but she could only entertain herself for so long without another being to share her knowledge with. Liyue Harbor was far more lively. Loud and chaotic at times, perhaps, but far less lonely than the empty nest that her adeptal abode had become.
Maybe that was why she was so immediately invested in the little one who had accidentially bumped into her and was now apologizing profusely.
"I'm— I'm so sorry, miss! I wasn't watching where I was going! I really didn't mean it, I..."
'What a swift little thing,' she couldn't help but muse. She'd hardly even spotted them rushing her way before they tumbled into her legs. Their body weight wasn't even enough to make her stumble—if anything, they were the one that ended up getting thrown off balance. It was cute how small they were compared to her, really; it reminded her of Shenhe when she was a child, or even her current disciple, Shuyu.
Ah... but she shouldn't be so quick to think fondly of them. No, surely this little one had parents of their own—a life of their own—to return to. She did not even know their name. No. Bonds should not be so quick to form.
With elegant, poised grace akin to a gentle breeze rustling a tree's leaves, she knelt down, the motion putting an end to their sheepish yet hurried apologies. Glossy, innocent eyes stared up at her—even kneeling, Xianyun was still a bit taller than they were—with an amount of awe that would've made her feathers puff out in pride had she been in her illuminated beast form. She was not one to grow embarrassed at admiration, after all.
"Where are your caregivers, child?"
"Oh. Um." Their brows furrowed slightly. "...I don't know, actually."
"Ah, are you lost? Come, then. One— Ahem. I shall reuinte you with them. I am certain they must be quite frantic in your absence."
Before she could rise and offer her clawed hand to them, they urgently shook their head.
"Oh, no! It's not like that, miss. Even if it was, I wouldn't want to trouble you at all! I would find my way back!" they insisted politely, waving their hands in front of their body as if to dismiss her concerns (though, Xianyun hardly thought it would be "troubling"; she was a bit surprised that they felt it so, or perhaps they were really just trying to be polite). It was then that she noticed the little wooden chick held carefully in one of their hands, but she did not yet have the opportunity to inquire about it. "I've been on my own for as long as I can remember, that's all."
Oh?
Oh.
"Hm. Is that so?"
"Uh-huh."
"In that case, child, I—"
A man rounding the corner and immediately prevented her from finishing her sentence. He was very clearly furious, approaching the child with such fervent determination that Xianyun could not help but wonder what nature of a troublemaker she must have encountered. Though... she really did not see them that way, which only made her infintely more curious about rhe situation at hand.
Their expression seemed to fall.
"You, kid!" he shouted, stopping just a foot or two away from them. "You can't just go around stealing whatever you please! Who raised you?!"
"No, I..." They could not meet his gaze. "I was gonna bring back more mora to make up for it when I could, I just—!"
"Don't give me excuses. I want the toy you've stolen returned, you understand? Hand it over!"
Xianyun sighed, adjusting her glasses.
"Enough," she said, rising to her feet. "How much mora will suffice? For reparations, of course."
"Rep— reparations?" the man stuttered, then sighed. "No, no... look. You're the mom? Just teach your kid not to go around stealing. The toy's not worth much, but a kid who starts stealing this young will take far more important things in the future. So, teach 'em not to do it."
Hiding behind Xianyun's legs, they couldn't help but stare upwards in wonderment. His attitude flipped completely when faced with a woman so much taller than he was, and with an air surrounding her that demanded such an impossible amount of respect. They honestly could not blame him for such an attitude change; they would too, they thought, if they were faced with someone like her.
"Very well. You have my apologies on their behalf." She turned on her heel, holding out her hand to them. "Let us go, little colt."
Colt?
Bewildered but nonetheless beyond awestruck with this strange yet kind woman, they nodded, wordlessly placing their freehand in hers. Her sharp, hooked nails dug slightly into their skin; somehow, though, they couldn't be bothered to care. It didn't hurt much. On the contrary, it was oddly comforting.
The walk was silent for a few moments, but then, Xianyun's voice demanded their attention:
"You should pay quite the mind to your behavior in the future. Theivery is a significant offense in a land such as this—a land that regards contracts with the highest of respect. Had I withheld my intervention, it may very well have ended far worse."
"I really didn't mean to," they whispered, little tears building up in the corners of their eyes. Even though she was someone they had only just met a few moments ago, disappointing her seemed... unbearable. Angering her would have been more tolerable. "Um... steal, that is. I didn't mean it. I just thought it looked really cool. I left whatever mora I had on me to pay for it, and I was going to try and get more so I could pay him the right amount... I swear I wasn't going to just run away with it..."
She hummed. "Regardless of your intent, I will see to it that you do not do such a thing again."
"Hu— huh? You will?"
She scoffed. "Of course. Surely you did not expect me to abandon you on the side of the street again? As an elder, it is only right that I watch over little ones such as yourself, and little ones should not be cruelly left to fend for themselves."
The tears on their lashes had dried by now. They even offered her a smile, giggling as they said, "Elder? I don't think you're old."
"Oh? And what, pray tell, has led you to such a bold conclusion, hm?"
"Well... you! You look very young, miss! I think elder women are very pretty too, but you look... young pretty? Um... what's the word again..?"
"Youthful, perhaps?"
"Yeah! Youthful!"
As they rambled on animatedly, clutching the wooden bird to their chest, Xianyun's lips quirked upwards into an amused smile.
It, of course, went unnoticed by them.
— flower of the universe !! 🌸
In the few days that had passed since Xianyun welcomed little [Name]—they had bashfully introduced themselves to her in the middle of their rambling once they recalled that she didn't even know their name, and she returned the sentiment with greater confidence—into her home, she had put together a few simple toys for them to amuse themselves with.
She was an inventor at heart. Even though these designs were not entirely her own, she made them hers with unique additions and more efficient features... of course, all while doing her best to keep the toys simple. They were for a child, after all. Mechanics, Xianyun's mechanics, were complicated enough for adults to understand as it was—a child would surely have even less of a capacity to grasp something too complicated, and her efforts would therefore have been wasted.
...But oh, how terribly wrong she now understood herself to be.
Quietly and motionlessly, as to avoid drawing their attention, she watched with the growing warmth of fondness and excitement in her chest as the young one she took in meticulously pried open the toys she handcrafted.
They were humming to themselves, gingerly laying out the parts in an organized manner so that nothing got lost or mixed. She was beyond impressed with the careful thought they had blatantly put into keeping track of everything; Xianyun was certain that most children would lose a small part or two, but as she surveyed their layout, she noted that every single piece—big or small, hard to overlook or easy to lose—was accounted for.
Childish forgetfulness wasn't an inherently bad thing. In fact, it was quite amusing and endearing to those such as herself who had lived for so many millennia.
However, she was infinitely more endeared by their sheer mindfulness.
Their sharp gasp snapped her from her internal musings.
"Oh— Miss... Miss Xianyun! I'm sorry, I—" They stumbled over their words, and they froze up somewhat. It was as if they wanted to hide what they had done but ultimately decided against it; she had clearly already spotted them, and they did not want to risk mixing up all the parts. "Miss Xianyun, I'm so sorry, I— I wasn't trying to destroy them, I just—"
"—wanted to understand their internal workings, yes?"
Their eyes went wide with that same wonderment they had displayed towards her a few days prior. "How... how did you know?"
She almost laughed at their cluelessness. "You have taken them apart with the care and delicacy quite unusual for one of your age. This, one surmises, is only because you sought to sate your curiosity regarding these simple mechanisms and their internal functions."
The grace with which she carried herself never failed to leave them in astonished silence. Xianyun hummed, sweeping them up into her arms as if they weighed no more than a feather (her utter, raw strength was another astounding feat in their young mind; she was so unimaginably admirable in a multiplicity of ways to them). Then, with steady caution, she kneeled to the floor and situated them comfortably in her lap.
"Allow one to introduce you, little colt, to the basics of mechanics."
Xianyun, they concluded, was an odd but genuinely kind woman.
Though her manner of speech was sometimes strange and formal, and her grace seemed otherworldly in its nature, and her strength was assuredly not a feat that just anyone could achieve...
She was tender. She was kind. She cared.
Perhaps the world was not always so kind, but despite that knowledge, they had never felt safer than where they were now.
please consder reblogging with a kind tag or comment, it helps me out quite a lot! mama xianyun series taglist: @zeldadou, @starryshinyskies, @soleillunne, @lillonvia, @nervocat, @dragon-type-nuggetz, @starlit-dianthus. contact me non-anonymously to be added.
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the phoenix's pain.
word count: 797
content warnings: mentions of death and injury, the character not being particularly kind to themself about their feelings
summary: stelle should give herself time to think about certain things, but she doesn't do it.
author's note: erm stelle again :3 i love the mc they're so silly but at the same time perfect angst material
contains major spoilers for jarilo-vi quests
At first, Stelle doesn't necessarily have time to process what happens to her.
She knows what's happening, yes - obviously; her eyes widen when she sees the icicle she cannot avoid - she feels the pain as it stabs right through her - she dies, is granted a new power, she wakes up. She registers all of that, of course, but she doesn't think about it - she's pulled out of the battlefield only to be thrown right back in, and when she later remembers it - she's glad that she had her mind set on that fight, and only that fight, the entire time.
March says it was one heck of a first trailblazing expedition, and Stelle simply smiles - despite Bronya’s grief, and the sympathy she has for the new Supreme Guardian of Belobog, she’s still mostly under the influence of emotions the battle and the victory have left.
After they return to the city, she doesn't want to process anything.
There are some intrusive thoughts in the back of her mind, vague feelings filling up her heart with anxiety, but she pushes them away as well as she can - she will have time to think about it later, some time, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a week; right now, she’d much rather focus on celebrating with her friends, and not on… That. So, when March asks her if everything is fine, because she looks a bit pale, Stelle nods - yes, everything is alright, perfect even, she’s just a little tired, if anything. March nods with an understanding expression. Stelle feels Dan Heng’s gaze linger on her for a little bit longer - he doesn’t seem to be convinced by what she said - but thankfully, he doesn’t ask. Perhaps neither one of them wants to talk about it, not yet, at least, and Stelle can't say she isn't happy about that. She wants to rest, relax, and hopefully get enough sleep for the first time in a week.
Once they’re back in the Astral Express, though, the thoughts are getting more difficult to ignore.
It’s… confusing, too, honestly; she should be happy, after all, should she not? She’s alive and well, she seems to have new power, she has a new weapon, and there's only a scar on her chest instead of a gaping hole in her dead body - if there would even be a body, because she doesn't know what the Stellaron would do if she actually died and didn’t come back and— Ah, she should stop thinking about this, really, because she should feel glad and relieved, and yet there’s anxiety building up inside her, and these “what-if” thoughts only make it worse.
Thankfully, though, she manages to keep it under control until she's back in her passenger cabin. Perhaps she leaves the parlor car a bit too early, perhaps her smile is a tiny bit forced, but that's just because she's tired, surely, as she tells the others, and they seem to understand - they agree that she should go get some rest, and they don't stop her. This must've been quite a strain for her body, after all, it's still getting used to the Stellaron inside - yes, she deserves a good rest.
Her hands are shaking slightly when she closes the door; her heart is racing, and it feels as if something was gripping her chest, her throat, and her vision is slowly starting to get blurry, but she forces herself to take in deep, slow breaths. She slides down to the floor, back against the door, trying to direct all of her attention to maintaining that steady rhythm. It's fine. She's fine. It's alright. Nothing is happening. She's safe. It's alright. She just needs to breathe now, and calm herself down, and everything will be okay, because nothing can happen to her here.
Seconds after entering her room she thought that maybe running away from the others wasn't the best idea, but right now she sees that it was. It's much easier to soothe rising anxiety when she's alone, and doesn't need to worry if her pretended calm demeanor is convincing enough to not make anyone worry about her - because honestly, there's nothing to worry about and nothing to cry over, even though the tears on her cheeks that haven't completely dried yet seem to say otherwise.
It won't be an issue for much longer, though. That odd panic is much weaker now, and all she needs to do is lie down on her bed with her phone in hand and scroll until - hopefully - she falls asleep, because now, she can actually . Maybe tomorrow, or in a few days, she'll feel like talking to someone about it, but - for now, if she can take care of the problem by herself, there's no need to trouble anyone else with it.
divider by @/cafekitsune
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FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶
kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
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