#And Tabbys result is very fitting too

[noodlecupcakes]

OC Familiar Quiz

I was tagged in this quiz by @cassietrn, @g0dspeeed and @la-grosse-patate, thank you all so much for thinking of me, I do appreciate it.

Deer

The Deer familiar is mostly known for its shy, gentle personality and closeness to nature. They are very graceful and gentle creatures, representing harmony and a soft-heart. However, that does not mean being defenseless, as the antlers of a stag show determination good (but not prideful) self-esteem. These familiars are very sensitive to changes in the environment, and use their knowledge never to harm, but to warn you of danger or an action you could regret. A Deer familiar inspires their master and friends with ideas, raise their confidence, and warn them of danger or their actions. This familiar represents - Gentleness - Grace - Innocence - Confidence - Nature - Sensitiveness

Weasel

The Weasel is a strikingly intelligent familiar, known for its sneakiness and cunning through any situation. They are actually, being a predator, very strong and determined fighters. However, one with a Weasel familiar may be easily subject to temptation or an impulsive, do-now-ask-questions-later mindset. They tend to speak their mind, and have a knack for sarcasm or pulling pranks. Though your cleverness may help you find a quick way out of conflicts, don't trust your luck too much. A Weasel familiar helps their master find clever routes, keep them precise with their wording, and makes sure that they have a few tricks up their sleeve. This familiar represents - Cunning - Cleverness- Mischievousness - Confidence - Quick thinking - Intellect

I tag: @simplegenius042, @josephseedismyfather and @3llisarts

[nitromethane]

ONE MILLION SLUGCATS..!! notes under the read more

- artificer: largely wanted some sort of tabby cat pattern that follows along their ribs and spine and darkens at their extremities, like they've been singed. i think their fur is also in very bad condition and coated in a mixture of fire powder and blood. yuck! by the end of artificer's campaign (if it's the ending where they kill the king scavenger), i'd imagine they'd be even darker in colour and sporting a bunch more poorly-healed scars - spearmaster: not furry, just covered in a fine layer of.. various quills and spines and whiskers? very weaselly - hunter: pulled from the luzon bleeding-heart dove for the big patch of red fur on their chest.. i feel like it's kind of a nice nod towards how the "core" of hunter long legs is darker than the rest of it, too. otherwise they're coloured kind of like a fox, and their fur is patchy because they keep overgrooming it due to stress and the rot cysts - gourmand: their flower is from outer expanse!! they were patterned different in my first draft but i ended up redoing it to make them look more like survivor and monk (since they're from the same colony) - survivor: the scars are largely from their rough fall into outskirts and it results in some struggles with mobility.. they didn't heal particularly well. otherwise is the most standard slugcat in the whole wide world - monk: little guy. always has a karma flower with them, i think. also super standard but in a smaller way (runt of the litter?) - rivulet: kind of patterned like a river otter.. catfish whiskers as well ::] - saint: has reverse point colouration, making their extremities and snout fade to white.. i think it's a nice fit with the fact that everything is miserable and cold in their campaign, haha. the scar(?) on their chest is sort of like their physical form splitting at the seams, and the diamonds are meant to be like the paneling on echoes? - enot: The Grinner - nightcat: wanted them to feature very little hard angles or edges in contrast to enot, who i tried to make more angular.. their spines(?) also swoop under, instead of over

[closetdbisexual]

the way warriors name their kits is so funny because .... naming a cat immediately over their appearance is like the dumbest thing you can do . cats look way different when theyre born. i mean, everyone knows cats have blue eyes that eventually change, but even just pattern wise they change a lot too. but what im discussing in this psot specifically is just certain mutations or temporary effects . and a good deal of these are relevant to black/dark-furred cats so thats what im using as examples . s orry .

fever coats

[id: two kittens, a tabby and a black kitten, with fever coats. their bodies are silver and mottled, while their faces show their real patterns. end id.]

first off, fever coat kittens ... ! a result of the kittens experiencing higher temperatures than usual in the womb (from their mother having a fever), this pattern lasts usually four months to a year . their fur presents as silvery across their back, but similarly to pointed cats, their extremities (face, legs, usually tail) show their real pattern almost normal. think itd be interesting to have a kitten like this born, hailed for their unusual pattern and given a name to fit it, (i can imagine names based off fog or mist prefixes especially), only for it to curiously fade away when the cat gets older, and the prefix no longer describes them. what a fun thing to explain at gatherings ! :) youcan tell i just wanted to make a post about fever coat kittens but thought itd be boring to discuss them alone.

2. vitiligo

[id: a before-and-after photo of a tuxedo cat with vitiligo. the first photo shows the cat as black with a white muzzle and blaze, while in the second, the cat is almost entirely white with a black mottled pattern. end id.]

more well-known, but still an interesting idea. blackpaw ...is suddenly far more white than black ! again, just cool. fun idea. i dont have much to say about this one because everyone knows about this .

3. sun-bleached

[id: a black cat with a sun-bleached coat. its back is varying shades of red-and-brown, unlike a tortoiseshell pattern. end id.]

caused by radiation from the sun, the eumelanin in black cats fur can break down, causing it to actually lighten - and cause concern for sunburn, also. not good. but i imagine this happening to riverclan or windclan cats the most, considering how often theyre out in the sun. considering how this can also return to normal if they just shed naturally and spend less time outside , itd be another interesting anomaly for cats to figure out .... also a very pretty pattern . and also acknowledges that, yknow, letting your cats outside is not very safe for them actually so 👎 crowfeather looking a bit more like cardinalfeather lately ....lol ...

4. pointed cats

[id: several pointed cats. all are primarily cream, with darker markings around their face, legs, and tail. one is a seal-point cat, with almost black markings. the next is a lilac-point, with blue-gray markings. the third is a pair of flame-point cats, with light ginger markings. end id.]

i also wanted to post about this one the most <- guy who LOVES pointed cats . oh this one has so much potential both ways. pointed cats are the result of certain temperatures impacting their bodies - the warmer parts of their bodies produce less pigment, while the colder parts around their face and legs will darken. and, as that might suggest, this process can be prevented by keeping them at other temperatures. pointed cats raised in warm environments, for example, will usually not darken as much. however, this is still coded into their genes, and can even be affected by the seasons and temperature changes then, which again, very fun ! very cool idea . a solid-white kit you found in twoleg-place, slowly changing as they age until suddenly that name snowkit doesnt quite fit them anymore, does it? a pair of visibly pointed cats that traveled to a sunnier territory, confused when their kits stay light and solid-colored. warriors having to get used to their clanmate changing colors with the seasons, making jokes about them seeming more like some kind of seasonal plant or prey than any other cat they know . cool .....

okay i dont have anymore examples you can tell i just really wanted to tell people about fever coats and also pointed cats ^ i like them a lot

[gingerisledaydreams]

I'd like poly headcanons for Emily, Harvey, and Elliott, and a shy af farmer who bi panics every couple days when they remember who they're with lol

If that's too many people, then I'm sorry!

Thank you so much again for your patience with me on this! This was truly a treat to write and I would have had it done much sooner if it weren't for general health (physical/mental) chaos - but I'm back! I hope you enjoy :)

Content/trigger warning for themes of bullying, emotional trauma/pain, and general fluff!

This HC is about Levy, a farmer in Stardew Valley who is in a poly relationship with Emily (her main), Harvey, and Elliott. I decided to focus this HC around the following idea: Levy grew up experiencing awful bullying during her time at school, and as a result, she bears many emotional and physical scars. While being in Pelican Town and the Valley has been healing in so many ways, sometimes the trauma just becomes too much to handle and Levy needs some time to recharge. During a chilly, rainy weekend in the Fall, after reading a book from the Museum's library which had some unexpected bullying themes, Levy found herself struggling with the memories and residual trauma of the bullying that she experienced, and began to have a lot of difficulty in not only completing the daily tasks on her farm, but also in taking care of herself and taking part in the things that make her really happy. Emily, Harvey, and Elliott all notice the impacts of the triggering reading experience on Levy, and decide to dedicate the final days of the Fall season to providing Levy some memorable, sweet experiences that can help heal her heart and renew her spirit. This HC is split into three major sections - first, a special day with Emily, second, a special day with Harvey, and finally, a special day with Elliott. Together, they represent the beautiful ecosystem around Levy and her poly relationships in the Valley that bring her joy and comfort as she navigates building up her grandfather James' farm. Note: the POV switches from Levy to Emily/Harvey/Elliott from time to time, and I'll be as descriptive as I can to make it clear when the POV is switching!

A Day with Emily

- As Emily walked through Cindersap Forest in the early afternoon on her way to Levy's farm, she slowly found herself getting more and more excited about this special weekend she planned for her. She had originally planned this weekend to happen during Levy's birthday in mid-winter, but given the really triggering effect that the book had on Levy's mental health, Emily decided to push it forward a few weeks. She couldn't stand to see her in such emotional pain.

- Emily knocked on Levy's farmhouse door, having kept the weekend plans a surprise as much as she could. Levy answered, and her gray tabby cat Thia quickly ran to the door and rubbed against Emily's leg, meowing and purring. Out of all her partners, Thia definitely liked Emily the best and always gave her extra attention.

- Despite the immediate rush of cool air into the doorway as she opened the door, Levy immediately flushed bright red upon seeing Emily's freshly washed blue hair with face-framing layers and her beautiful, form-fitting red dress. Levy felt that flush wash over her entire body and she was suddenly grateful for the cool Fall air that was rapidly entering her home.

- Emily pulled Levy into a sweet, soft kiss and held her face in her hands, gently kissing her forehead. Without even saying anything to each other, they knew this was exactly where they both needed to be.

- Emily stepped to the side and revealed a small basket behind her, much to the curiosity of Levy. "I'd like to try something special today," Emily said.

- As Levy welcomed Emily into the farmhouse, as Thia ran closely behind, still meowing and purring as she ran back and forth between Emily's feet.

- Emily was very accustomed to being in Levy's farmhouse, having stayed there many days and nights since they began dating. Because of this, she walked right over to Levy's tea station in her kitchen and began brewing some fresh green tea using the leaves from Levy's blooming tea plant that also sat in her kitchen.

- While the water was boiling, Emily turned around and admired Levy, who was standing in the kitchen smiling sheepishly at Emily, yet with a look of worry and concern on her face as she clutched together the sides of her grandpa's cardigan and held it closely across her torso as a somewhat protective layer against herself and the general anxieties she felt in her heightened state of trauma brought about by the book.

- As Emily began pouring the water to let the tea steep, she looked at Levy out of the corner of her eye, smiled, and said "So, I know we've talked in the past about you modeling clothes for me. I remember it didn't seem like something you were really into, so I didn't press it further. But, I came up with an idea recently for something I wanted to do for you."

- Levy looked at Emily with a curious, surprised expression on her face, and pointed at the basket and said "Does it have something to do with that?"

- Emily smiled, and brought over the two mugs of tea to the kitchen table and motioned Levy to sit. Levy smiled as she took the mug, remembering the trip both her and Emily took to Zuzu City a year prior where they found the mugs in a thrift store and immediately fell in love with them. They were both bright yellow, with red hearts scattered across the porcelain.

- "Yes, it does!" Emily said, smiling as she leaned over and pulled the basket towards her. "I know that you know how much designing, sewing, and dyeing clothes means to me, and how much joy it brings me to see others in clothes that I've made. As the most important person in my life, I wanted to make you something that would always bring you comfort and remind you of how much I love you."

- Levy blushed, and felt herself to start to tear up. She wiped a tear away with the sleeve of her cardigan as Emily leaned over, and grabbed her hand and continued.

- "You continue to endlessly inspire me in all of the amazing things you do on this farm and all the things you do for us in Pelican Town, and you do it while carrying all the scars from your past. I know you are strong and don't need my protection, but I still wanted to make you something that would bring you comfort on your hardest days, and bring you happiness on your best days."

- Emily slowly opened up the basket, and pulled out a warm-toned, mustard-yellow, hand-sewn cardigan with pink fairy rose designs sewn across the bottom of the cardigan. Levy's eyes widened as she reached out to touch the cardigan, her voice beginning to crack and tears beginning to form in her eyes.

- Emily smiled warmly, a soft red flush coming to her cheeks: "If you remember, on our first date I brought you a pink fairy rose, and I remember by the end of that date, I knew I wanted to have you in my life for a very long time. I smile whenever I think of fairy roses now, and I wanted to include that memory in this cardigan."

- Levy started to say something, but choked up and quickly leaned over to hug Emily, her tears running slowly down her face as she finally muttered "thank you" under her breath.

- Emily kissed her forehead, and said "Now, I know you had expressed not feeling comfortable enough with your body to model clothes for me, but I was wondering if you might do me the honor of trying this on" as she held out the cardigan for Levy.

- Levy smiled and nodded, still trying to formulate words as she felt her heart melt around this incredible gesture. She stood up, took off her grandpa's cardigan, and slipped on the cardigan that Emily made her. She immediately felt a sense of warmth, love, and happiness overcome her and the cardigan felt like a protective shield against the anxieties, fears, and traumatic memories that had been plaguing her since she read the book.

- Emily beamed upon seeing Levy in her new cardigan, and made a "turn around" motion with her finger to which Levy responded by giving a quick twirl in her new clothes.

- Levy wiped the tears from her face, and finally said "I.....I love it, Emily. I love it so much." Her voice cracked again and she ran out of words, but she didn't need anymore. Emily rose from the table and gave Levy a strong hug, wiping the tears that started running from her eyes again.

- Emily kissed her forehead again, and held Levy's face in her hands as she said, "Now, I've got the back room at the Stardrop booked for us, and I was able to get the night off from work. Gus will be serving us tonight with a special meal that I planned myself. Would you do me the honor of wearing this to our dinner date?"

- Levy felt a warm, intense flush grow across her face and she nodded, kissing Emily and grabbing her hand. "Let's go," Levy said, warmly and with love.

- They walked hand-in-hand to the Stardrop Saloon, Emily in her fall jacket and Levy in her new cardigan with her signature beanie. Emily didn't force Levy to talk, but rather just held space for her to process any difficult emotions she was experiencing, or to bring up any conversation topics that made her feel happy.

- As the night progressed, they ate a meal of fiddlehead risotto, Tom Kha soup, and blackberry cobbler for dessert. As they held hands across the table, Emily admired the view of Levy in her new cardigan, and Levy felt her heart grow as she wore the clothing her beautiful partner had designed for her with love. While the memories of her past still lingered fresh in her mind, she knew that she was safe, and that she was surrounded by the most amazing, affirming people. She knew everything would be alright.

- They said their goodbyes to Gus, and emerged into the cool evening air. Emily smiled at Levy, and grabbed her hand, her cheeks flushed partly from the cold and partly from the feeling of love in the air and between them. As they walked back to the farmhouse, they held each other close in comfortable silence. Levy appreciated that Emily never made her talk about her trauma - Emily seemed to almost instantly realize that just sitting silently in Levy's presence while she processed her thoughts and memories was healing and comforting.

- As they walked through the front door of the farmhouse and were greeted warmly by Thia, who was purring and meowing back and forth between their feet, they both instantly found themselves wanting to call it a day and crawl into bed. Levy slipped off her cardigan, and admired it one last time for the day as she held it folded in her arms and ran her hands over the fairy rose designs. She smiled, and looked up at Emily with tearful eyes. As they crawled into each other's arms for the night, cuddled with Thia underneath a warm wool blanket, Levy felt full with the hope and love that surrounded her in her new life. Emily leaned over and kissed Levy's forehead, and they soon fell asleep, hand in hand, with love in their hearts.

A Day with Harvey

- Harvey stood in front of the mirror of his upstairs apartment and combed through his mustache, making sure each hair was perfectly in place and polished. After a year of dating Levy, he had finally started to tackle his extreme nervousness around her, although he still felt the customary butterflies before each of their dates.

- He had run into Emily earlier that day at the Stardrop Saloon as he picked up a thermos of Levy's favorite tea that Gus kept in stock and brewed just for her (a jasmine green tea), and Emily gushed about their special day together and how great it was seeing Levy in her handmade cardigan.

- As Harvey listened to Emily, he reflected on his own position in the relationship. Although this was Harvey's first poly relationship, he found himself taking to it more quickly and more openly than he initially thought he would. He always appreciated his friendships with Emily and Elliott, and aside from Maru, he considered them both to be among his closest friends in the Valley. Before meeting Levy, and ultimately falling head over heels for her, he had never considered that Emily and Elliott would eventually play a much larger, and more important, role in his life.

- Harvey grabbed the thermos of tea and paused, looking up at Emily as he asked, "S...so how is Levy doing? I know she had that awful triggering experience with that book. I feel terrible, since I was the one that asked her to come with me to the library that day. I could have stopped it from happening."

- Emily stopped cleaning the glass she was holding, set it down on the counter, and leaned over to Harvey. "Harvey, you can't blame yourself here. I know you have a protective nature with her, but these things just happen sometimes. The best thing you can do right now is give her an amazing day to help her start feeling like herself again. We had a wonderful time on our date here at the Stardrop last weekend, and I know she's well on her way to feeling better. Just be yourself, and show her a good time!"

- Harvey smiled warmly, and said his goodbyes as he emerged from the Stardrop Saloon into the cool autumn air. He beamed as he thought about the day ahead, hoping his plans would bring a smile to Levy's face and help her feel loved, seen, and supported, especially during this rough time.

- As he climbed the stairs up to his apartment, he went through his mental checklist again of the day's plans just to make sure everything was ready to go. He knew how much Levy enjoyed staying over at his place, especially on these colder days/nights, and thought that a nice stay-in date would do her heart some good.

- He unlocked his front door, and did a quick scan of the place as he mentally checked off the planned events for the day: "Special mugs from Zuzu City - check. Thermos full of tea - check. Her favorite blanket freshly washed and folded on the couch - check. Ingredients for pumpkin soup and glazed yams - check. Food, water, and litter box for Thia - check. Model plane kits - check." He took a deep breath, and pulled out his cell phone and dialed Levy.

- "Hello dear. You are welcome to come over anytime you're ready. I've got everything set up for us." Levy smiled as she heard Harvey speak in such a confident manner yet with such a marked undertone of anxiety. Despite her making her romantic feelings for him known many times, Harvey still had moments where he couldn't believe she wanted to pursue a relationship with him.

- As they ended the phone call, Levy felt her cheeks rising with heat and she hugged her cardigan from Emily close to her chest. She really couldn't stop wearing it since that previous weekend with Emily, and she decided to keep it on so she could show it to Harvey.

- She called Thia over to the door where her carrier sat open, and Thia immediately knew it was time for a journey to the doctor's office. Levy had started bringing Thia to Harvey's during her overnight stays, and Thia immediately took both to Harvey and his apartment. Harvey never had pets growing up, and it was endearing to see how he welcomed Thia into his home. He even kept a bag of cat food and a litter box there for her.

- As Levy walked toward Harvey's office with Thia in tow, dressed in her new cardigan and her signature cool-weather beanie, she felt herself cycle through a range of complex and confusion emotions. Ever since reading the book that triggered her memories of her past traumatic experiences, she found herself spiraling in a scary, yet familiar route of closing herself off, losing motivation around her farm, and having a hard time getting out of bed. Her special day with Emily brought a much needed smile to her face and it reminded her of the new life she had built here in the Valley, and the beauty surrounding her relationships with Emily, Harvey, and Elliott. As tough as things were right now, she felt hope.

- With the autumn breeze chilling her bones, she arrived at Harvey's clinic and made her way up the stairs. She smiled as she recalled how much she appreciated the small gesture that Harvey would always leave the clinic door unlocked for her when she was coming over. It was a sign of trust that warmed her heart.

- As Levy knocked on Harvey's door, he almost immediately opened the door with his characteristically flushed, beaming smile and tousled hair. Levy closed the door behind her, and let Thia out of the crate, who immediately sauntered to Harvey and began purring and running through his feet. Both Harvey and Levy laughed as they looked down at Thia, and then simultaneously looked up at each other and blushed. Harvey pulled Levy into his arms, leaning down as much as he could to make up for their significant height difference.

- Harvey planted a soft kiss on her forehead, and held out his arms as he admired Levy's cardigan. "Wow, Emily did a wonderful job on this. That color suits you so well," he said, warmly. Levy quietly smiled and nodded, and pulled Harvey into another soft hug. They stood there for a few moments in comfortable silence as Harvey held Levy closely feeling both a tenseness and a soft vulnerability in her body language.

- Harvey gave Levy a soft squeeze to close out the hug, and pulled away to look in her eyes. "I've got a really nice day planned for us. I know how much you enjoy staying in, so I wanted to create the perfect day inside for us. I've got a thermos full of your favorite tea from the Stardrop, the ingredients to cook us some pumpkin soup with glazed yams for dessert, and two model plane kits for us to put together. Also, your favorite blanket is clean and ready to be wrapped around you." He smiled as he shared his plans with Levy, who felt her face growing warm again as she blushed.

- "Harvey, this is.....this is so perfect. I really don't even know what to say, but I just want you to know how much I appreciate this, and how much I appreciate you."

- Harvey smiled warmly again, taking Levy's hand in his. "I want you to know that this day is about you. I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I figured we could pour some tea into our favorite mugs, and sit under the blanket for awhile and talk, maybe listen to some jazz records, and then I'll get dinner started for us." Levy smiled and beamed, so excited for this special day ahead with Harvey.

- As the day progressed, Levy once again felt her anxieties and difficult emotions around her past begin to dull, as her heart was slowly enveloped with the love she felt from Harvey that day. As they laughed and cried together underneath her favorite blanket, which was an heirloom from her grandpa, as they sipped her favorite tea, her heart healed. As they sat at the dinner table and ate their pumpkin soup and glazed yams, her heart healed. And, as they finished the evening off putting together two matching model planes while soft jazz records played in the background, her heart healed a bit more.

- As the hours turned late, and Harvey, Levy, and Thia retired to bed, Levy felt her eyes well up as she reflected on the day as Harvey was sitting up grandpa's blanket on the bed. While the memories of those traumatic experiences never fully go away, Levy again reflected on how things felt like they were truly going to be okay in this new life she had built in the Valley. As Harvey turned out the light and crawled into bed next to Levy, pulling her into a soft, yet protective hug as Thia curled up between them, she felt complete and utter peace.

A Day with Elliott

(for some reason, Elliott's seemed to end up longer than the other two! I'm not too sure why - I hope that is okay!!)

- "Ah, yes! This one is simply exquisite!" Elliott exclaimed, as he held up the bright yellow rose to his face and took in its fresh, floral scent. Dressed in a cable-knit maroon sweater with a matching scarf, and his long, red hair fashionably in place underneath a muted orange beanie, Elliott strolled down the aisles of "Nature's Oasis," a locally-owned plant shop in Zuzu City. He filled up his basket with various succulents, flowers, and greenery as he leisurely took in the sights and smells of the shop, stopping every so often and uttering a small exclamation of happiness as he laid his eyes on another plant that reminded him of Levy.

- While their shared interests in the piano initially drew Elliott and Levy into their first conversation together, it was plants that brought them closer and arguably set the stage for their budding relationship. Now, Elliott couldn't lay eyes on a flower, a fern, or a succulent without blushing, his heart filling up with butterflies over Levy.

- He turned the corner towards a new aisle of Nature's Oasis and gasped, seeing a collection of bright red roses on the endcap. As he strolled over and picked one up to smell it, he smiled and began daydreaming about the plant that first brought him and Levy together several seasons ago.

- On a crisp and lovely Spring afternoon, Elliott heard a knock on his door, knowing it must be Levy stopping by to practice on his piano. He first met Levy at the Museum library a few days prior as he noticed her in a corner spot reading a book about music theory, and made her acquaintance by strolling over and introducing himself with a flourish, giving a gentle bow as he poetically spoke, "Hello, I hope I am not being too forward, but I couldn't help but notice you reading Charles DaBaggio's classic music theory book! It's one of my favorites! My name is Elliott. It's wonderful to meet you."

- Levy peered up from her book and gave a gentle smile, albeit a smile with a slight sense of worry behind it. For a moment, Elliott was concerned he had possibly made her uncomfortable by introducing himself, but his fears were alleviated as Levy began speaking: "Hi Elliott, I'm Levy. I think I've seen you around town - I'm fairly new here. I am James' granddaughter, and moved here from the city to revitalize the farm."

- Elliott clasped his hands together in a sumptious joy, exhaling his air before exclaiming "Ah! You are the new farmer I keep hearing about! I am so glad you will be joining our community. Say.... do you know anything about ... houseplants?"

- Levy, who was dressed in a white v-neck and jeggings (which did not escape Elliott's attention, who found himself entranced by her simple, yet captivating style), held her hand up to her chin and wrinkled up her face momentarily as she thought. "You know, now that I've had a few weeks to work with the soil and spring crops out at the farm, I'm probably in a better spot than I used to be when it comes to understanding houseplants! What do you need?"

- Elliott gestured towards the empty chair at Levy's table, as if to say "may I?", and Levy nodded her head and smiled, as if to say "of course, please join me." Elliott sat down, his orange-red suit jacket catching Levy's eye as a pop of color in the otherwise muted library aesthetic.

- Elliott took a deep breath in, folded his hands on the table, and exhaled slowly as he began speaking: "I have a houseplant at my beach cabin that is of particular sentimental value to me. You see, I'm a writer, and I'm currently working through my first novel. I completely left the life I had before, and quit my job in Zuzu City, took all my savings, and moved here to live on the beach and write full-time. As I was moving out of my apartment, I saw this plant that someone had left by the curb near the trash can. This beautiful spider plant in a bright red pot - I couldn't understand why it was outside and why someone was getting rid of it, but my instinct kicked in and I picked it up, and brought it into the taxi with me as I started my one-way journey here. "

- Levy found herself completely enthralled by the story, her eyes transfixed on Elliott and waiting with bated breath for him to continue.

- Elliott paused, caught his breath, and continued: "You see, for me, this plant represents me taking a risk to start my new life and pursue what I really want to, and live my life on my terms. It's symbolic to me. It found me at the start of my journey and I want it to stay with me as I finish this book."

- He furrowed his brow, and held up his right hand to his face and pinched either side of the bridge of his nose in distress: "Ah, you must think I'm being so dramatic! But you see, lately the plant hasn't been doing so well. The leaves are losing their lustre and have started to droop despite my best efforts at watering the plant regularly. And.... I'm not sure if this is of any relation, but I'm equally struggling with my novel. It's humorous to me - I thought coming here and writing full-time would give me the space I needed to create, but I'm finding myself almost frozen, unable to move forward with the text. Almost as if I'm lacking inspiration. If the plant dies, it gives me this horrible feeling that other things in my new life may similarly burn out....."

- Elliott's brow furrowed for a moment, as if he had run out of words to properly express his emotions, much to Levy's surprise, as she found herself transfixed on his ability to craft the most beautiful, poetic sentences, seemingly on a whim. Levy's traumatic past had given her the ability to recognize pain in others, almost as an empath, and she decided to interject.

- "So, you are hoping I could take a look at the plant and see if I can offer any advice on nursing it back to health?" she asked questioningly, in a kind and even tone.

- Elliott's face brightened, and his posture rose as he exclaimed "Yes! That would positively make my day! Nay, my month! My year! I would be endlessly grateful to you, and I may be able to make it worth your while" - he paused as he smirked and tapped his finger on his cheek - "I have a lovely antique piano in my cabin, if you are interested in trying it out. I don't want to assume your musical hobbies or preferences but given your interest in this DaBaggio work..." he said as he gently touched the cover of the book.

- Levy's face brightened up, as her trademark look of worry began to disappear. "Yes! I love playing piano. I'm still learning, but I'm finding that it's been a really healing and restorative activity for me to learn how to play."

- Elliott smiled and exhaled an "Ah!" sound of pure joy, and said "Well, that settles it! How about you stop by my place on Saturday? I can have the piano ready to go, and you can take a look at my poor houseplant and see if anything can be done. It sounds like the most wonderful of exchanges!" Levy smiled and they exchanged contact information, and Elliott emerged from the chair, offering another polite bow, and strolled out of the library. Levy found herself lingering her view towards the door after Elliott emerged into the cool spring air, feeling that ever so familiar sensation of nerves, anticipation, and warmth in her heart, much like she felt when first meeting Emily and Harvey.

- Over the next several weeks, Levy would stop by Elliott's cabin and provide some guidance and TLC for his houseplant, and Elliott would help Levy advance along in her journey to learn the piano. They soon found their visits to grow longer, and with more feelings of romantic tension and angst in the air, until one Fall day they found themselves sitting close to one another at the piano, pausing in silence after Levy had finished playing her first full song.

- Elliott beamed, and clasped his hands together in a dramatic flourish as he exclaimed, "Levy! That was simply beautiful! That sweet poetic melody, the grace, the flow, everything was perfect. Between this, and seeing my houseplant brought fully back to life by your wonderful horticultural skills...well, my heart is just aflame right now." He gently looked up to make eye contact with Levy, wondering if he had spoken too honestly and made her uncomfortable. But, to his surprise (and happiness), Levy smiled and leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. And, truly, the rest was history, and their relationship began to grow.

- As Elliott finished his daydream and lowered the red rose from his face, he took in a deep breath and felt the spread of warmth across his face. He added a dozen of the red roses that sparked his beautiful daydream to his basket, and strolled towards the front of Nature's Oasis and began unloading the plethora of vibrant succulents, houseplants, and flowers onto the cashier's station. Ever since his first book was published and he finished his tour, he found himself in a stable financial situation that allowed him to indulge a bit more deeply in creating romantic experiences for Levy. Particularly with the recent awakening of her traumatic memories brought on unexpectedly by the book at the library, he wanted to do everything he could to help her feel comfortable through this rough time, especially as she took the time to revive his houseplant, and at the same time, revive his creative inspiration for finishing his novel.

- Several hours later, Elliott beamed at the romantic, cozy space he had created in his cabin. Levy's favorite tea from the Stardrop was steeping on the counter in their special mugs they bought together on a trip to Zuzu, and bunches of roses, tulips, succulents, and houseplants were scattered across the kitchen table he bought from Robin specifically for this occasion. He heard a slight knock at the door, and jumped in excitement as he quickly smoothed his hair and straightened his jacket, and strolled towards the door.

- Levy beamed at Elliott and they both noticed each other's cheeks growing more and more flushed as they locked eyes, Elliott only breaking eye contact to look down at Levy's beautiful new yellow cardigan. "Ah! Is this the cardigan you told me about? Wow - Emily truly did amazing work on this! A beautiful cardigan for the most beautiful person that has ever graced my existence" he crooned, as he gently picked up Levy's hand and kissed the top of it.

- Levy blushed and smiled, yet Elliott still noticed the slight sense of worry on her face. Sensing this, he quickly welcomed her into his cabin and walked over to the kitchen counter to pick up her mug and present her with her favorite tea. Once Levy saw the familiar tag on the tea bag, her face lit up with happiness. "Oh my gosh, how did you know this was my favorite?" Elliott smiled, kissing her forehead after handing off the mug. "Well, sweetheart, Harvey and Emily are both two of my favorite people here in the Valley. They let me know this tea was your favorite, and I put in a special order with Gus to make sure I always have some on hand here at the cabin for you." Levy set her mug down on the table, and embraced Elliott in a warm, soothing hug. "Thank you," she said, warmly, as she looked up into Elliott's eyes. He put his hand on the side of her face and returned the eye contact for several moments as he repeated to himself how lucky he truly was.

- Begrudgingly, Elliott broke their eye contact only to direct Levy's eyes towards the table. "I truly believe that plants are what brought us together, and they hold a special place in our relationship. I thought we could spend the rest of the day putting together some floral arrangements and drinking your favorite tea, perhaps taking breaks here and there to play the piano together. What do you think?"

- Levy's eyes filled with tears, and although the tears didn't spill onto her cheeks, she found herself choking up a bit as she replied, "Elliott, it's perfect. Yes, please. This is exactly how I want to spend this day with you." And, just like that, they embarked on several hours of arranging plants and flowers into appealing arrangements, some for decorating Elliott's cabin and some for decorating the farmhouse, with a few to be saved as gifts for Emily and Harvey. Elliott shared ideas he had been forming for his second novel, and Levy recounted some of the details of her difficult feelings she was navigating since reading the book. The atmosphere was simultaneously raw and vulnerable and incredibly romantic, genuine, and calming.

- They cleaned up the remaining plant matter and gathered up the arrangements for the farmhouse, emerging into the cool evening air and walking hand in hand towards the farmhouse. Elliott had only stayed over at the farmhouse one time prior, and already felt at home in the space. Thia had also taken an immediate liking to Elliott's calming, romantic nature, which further warmed Levy's heart to him.

- They reached the farmhouse and began placing the plant arrangements across the home, creating such a warm, cozy, loving atmosphere entrenched with the memories of not only the first houseplant that brought them together, but the beautiful experience they had just shared putting together these arrangements and chatting for hours in poetic bliss.

- As the sun began to set and eyes began to grow heavy, Elliott, Thia, and Levy climbed into bed, surrounded by a warm wool blanket that had not yet begun to feel too heavy given the cold nights that were common in the spring in the Valley. Elliott gently grabbed onto Levy's hand, and kissed the top of it before leaning over to kiss her forehead, then embracing her in a warm hug and running his fingers through her hair until they both drifted off to sleep. Levy's heart, although still grappling with the traumatic memories of her past, felt comforted and safe, and she was eternally grateful for these three amazing people in her life.

[autodiscothings]

Hello! I am quite new to your page and I love how you draw Kolyat. ♥️ Also, would you care to share some details about your characters?

I’d love to, thanks for asking! Funnily enough, I did a personality quiz for them recently, so I can just copy/paste the results here. Most of my content for Mass Effect is centred around Kolyat Krios and Oriana Lawson: 

I write them here: [AO3] I draw them here: [ART TAG]

Everything I do with them is post-war, and them as adults in their 20s navigating the shit heap that is a broken, post-destroy galaxy, and how they cope with their own traumas. They both want to help rebuild, but do it different ways.

KOLYAT KRIOS

Kolyat Krios has a lot to live up to and change, but prefers to do it on his terms.

Kolyat is a methodical man, and gentle and patient with the people who need it most. He possesses an unexpected depth of emotional intelligence, and becomes a protector of the small and the strays, from a galaxy that often forgets about them.

While Kolyat can be even-keeled, if he is left to stew in his feelings, his anger will get the better of him, and he will react. He has a reputation for salt, and for his surliness; he also has a tendency to hide himself from others as a defence mechanism, and is slow to trust.

ORIANA ‘ORI’ LEE

You might know her as Oriana Lawson, but she’ll introduce herself as Ori Lee.

Ori is a warm, compassionate soul who loves to be around other people and enjoys her work as a colony developer/civil engineer for Kellam Industries. She is quick-witted and smart, and funny with it; her taste in fashion and makeup is impeccable, as is her comic timing.

She is very good at getting to know you, but you don’t get to know her. Ori keeps her cards to her chest, and only lets her guard down around people she trusts completely, and has a tendency to care too much about what others think about her.

FISH (the cat)

Queen of everything, ruler of them all- well, maybe just Kolyat’s apartment for now.

Fish is a foul-tempered gremlin of a tabby cat, with white socks and a white belly. Her iron paw rules the roost of her home; she graciously lets others share it. Fish loves her food, her nap spots, and her soft piles of things to sleep on. She likes listening to music, and watching the traffic outside of her window.

She is a former stray with both PTSD and trust issues, and for this reason she lashes out without thinking, and needs her own space. When she trusts though, she really trusts. It will take her forever to do it, but once you win her heart, she’ll love you forever.

BATESEDA ‘Bats’ T’LORI

The man, the myth, and the almost legend- at least, in his mind.

Bats was always told he had potential, and rather than stay with the Huntress squad who trained him, Bats left for the Citadel. He is a firecracker of a man who makes everything he does seem fun, always ready to crack something- a joke, his glass, a skull. Pour another one out, he has stories to tell, and they’re mostly true- if he remembers them right.

He has a tendency to go through frequent bed partners, and never keeps anyone around for long. Despite the crooked smile and easy living, there is an air of melancholy around Bats he is reluctant to explain, but something shows through the cracks every now and then. He will take things too far -the jokes, his drinking, his anger- and fall down the holes he put himself in. One day he will struggle to get back out of it.

ARJUN PATEL

A man who borders the line between squad dad and gross uncle, Patel is a treasure for any crew to have.

Patel is content to stay in the background, and is more savvy than he lets on, willing to play the bumbling, easy-going fool if it’ll get him what he wants. He is essentially Columbo with a cooking habit, but is willing to share his snacks- if he likes you, and that doesn’t take much. He is a man with quiet passions, and they shine brightly when he gets talking; his food, his wife and daughter, his interest in history… ask him about them, and his enthusiasm will be boundless- much like his appetite.

He has a tendency to be lazy, if he can get away with it. Patel can also overspill the TMI details of his life even if you’ve heard them before, without a clue he’s crossed a line.

SISO VITACUS

Like most of the squad, Vitacus came to the Citadel for a new life, and another shot of something. He recently split from his bootcamp boyfriend, and is really not looking for anything serious- at least, not at the moment. Vitacus is neither as funny as Bats, as serious as Kolyat or as happy as Patel, but he fits right in as the jack of all trades of the squad, content to play everyone’s middle man and all rounder.

He has a reputation for awful, neon suits, a love of dancing and shitty action movies, as well as a fondness for lurid drinks, despite looking like the kind of man who likes none of these things from first glance. Vitacus is a tall, stocky bruiser of a man, even for a turian.

Vitacus can also be a pushover and too laidback for his own good, and can drift along with the crowd than go against it. He’s unsure why he’s like this, but as far as he’s concerned, ending up in law enforcement is already an oddity- all his family are engineers and scientists.

BRATHAN ‘Brath’ SEKET

If ever there was a man you were unsure of -even after knowing him for years- it’s Brath. The usual rags to riches story, heavy on the rags; Brath fled the grasp of his abusive family as soon as he was able to, taking on jobs across the Terminus until he built up enough of a reputation as a gun for hire.

He got his money from less than savoury sources to begin with, but absolutely no slavery. He has a personal honor code he will hold the rest of the galaxy to, even if you don’t know the rules. Brath might give off the appearance of loving luxuries and living well, but to him it’s just greasepaint and stage costumes; he’s learning that on the Citadel, a Terminus boy like him will never fit in, anyway- the four eyes see to that.

He will hold a grudge for decades, and it will smoulder, too. Brath can be incredibly petty and keep receipts, and if things don’t go his way, he will make them- for better or for worse.

LAETITIA PHALIA

A woman with a firm grip of the ins and outs of both her work and her neighbourhood, Phalia is the person to know when you need something, and if you don’t she’ll soon tell you, anyway.

She looks strict, but only when she needs to be. Phalia is just busy! There’s always some charity, pot luck, clawball practise, afterschool homework club, Galactic Scout cookie drive, donation pickup and volunteer work activity happening in her life. Phalia is always doing something, despite a full-time job and being a single parent. She gives and gives, because that’s what she expects people to do, the kind of person who will give you her coat and freeze.

There is only so much of herself she can give away. Phalia has had the very worst happen to her in her life, and she survives by constantly moving, not looking back. She just needs to remind herself from time to time she deserves to be taken care of too, and can rest every now and then. Sometimes Phalia also has a tendency to hold people to the same standards she has, but is getting better at learning the difference.

DEREK

It's Derek, innit? Just Derek. Not his real name of course, but he thought it sounded fancy. He has a full salarian name, but his clan mostly ignore his existence - except when they want money.

The eponymous Derek has a fairly sweet soul, but it’s one slowly corrupting under a mantle of the music industry and celebrity. He has an addict’s personality, and bounces from fixation from fixation- but music will always remain a constant. He is good at what he does too; his production skills are perceptively complicated, and he is an absolute master at looping and finding rich, interesting samples; there is a reason he is in demand both as a DJ and as a producer.

Derek doesn’t have the best social skills, despite befriending people easily. He’ll pick them up and drop them, and will often self-medicate his mistakes. His ego can get him into trouble too, but finding real friends -and not hangers on- will help him realise he’s not the centre of the universe.

***

(The quiz is [HERE] f you want to see which one you got.)

[gregrulzok]

Hypnosis Mic X Beastars

Weird concept? Yes. Result of two of my hyperfixations clashing? Also yes.

Buster Bros!!!

Ichiro Yamada - Belgian Malinois.

Dogs just felt right for Buster Bros!!! as a whole. Malinois are tough, protective, loyal and intelligent, which seemed to suit them all. Ichiro would have black and tan fur.

Jiro Yamada - Belgian Malinois.

Same as his brothers - a boisterous and protective Malinois. Jiro would have entirely black fur, and often stick his tongue out.

Saburo Yamada - Belgian Malinois.

Same as his brothers - an intelligent Malinois that stirs up trouble when not properly entertained. Saburo's fur would be entirely tan.

MAD TRIGGER CREW

Samatoki Aohitsugi - Arctic Fox.

A vicious, effective hunter and predator. The entirely white fur seemed natural for Samatoki, though I do think he'd have black markings around his face.

Jyuto Iruma - Black Jackrabbit.

Obviously enough, derived from his MC name. Black fur was necessary to suit his aesthetic, but I chose a Jackrabbit specifically so that he'd be a little bit bigger and reasonably capable of combat.

Rio Mason Busujima - Cougar.

I asked myself "what's the most American animal I could reasonably see living in a forest", and though Bald Eagle was tempting, it felt a bit too on the nose. Instead I chose cougars which I think suit his color pallet, aswell.

Fling Posse

Ramuda Amemura - Fennec Fox.

Underneath their tiny, unassuming appearances, Fennecs are actually some of the most vicious animals and effective hunters. I honestly couldn't think of anything better for Ramuda!

Gentaro Yumeno - Red Fox.

Obviously enough, an animal associated with deception in not only Western, but Eastern cultures as well. This honestly seemed a bit too perfect to pass up on. Ideally his fur would be a bit darker to match his hair.

Dice Arisugawa - Domestic Shorthair.

Just a cat, nothing more nothing less. A street cat living a street cat life style. I imagine him as a classic light gray tabby, because street cats don't come in that nice blue colour that I think would suit him.

Matenro

Jakurai Jinguji - Northwestern Wolf.

Derived from the fact that wolves are Matenro's mascot animal. Northwestern wolves are the largest species of wolves which seemed fitting with his size. His fur would be a nice gray-black and probably very long.

Hifumi Izanami - Golden Retriever.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to make him the bounciest, most extroverted dog breed I could think of. When hosting though, he turns into the perfect poised and proper show dog, how fitting!!

Doppo Kannonzaka - Maine Coon.

I debated making Doppo a dog but I couldn't find any that I thought captured his character. Besides, being a cat in a dog-heavy team would probably contribute to his feeling out of place. Maine Coons can look soft and docile one moment and be rambunctious the next, which I think suited him. He's probably a dark ginger color with very mattes fur.

Dotsuitare Hompo

Sasara Nurude - Kea.

If you didn't know, a Kea is a type of parrot. Parrot Sasara made too much sense in my head not to use it, so I chose one with nice green feathers. Kea also have golden feathers on the undersides of their wings, which I thought he could use as a makeshift fan.

Rosho Tsutsujimori - Sandfish Skink.

It didn't feel right making Sasara a non-mammal and making Rosho a mammal, so I chose a reptile for him instead, thinking it would play into his nervousness around others due to the discrimination. Sandfish Skinks hide themselves in the sand, which I thought would be funny given his stage fright.

Rei Amayado - Tibetan Mastiff.

Obviously the temptation was there to make Rei a snake, but for one I didn't figure he could very well use a mic without any arms. On the other hand, I wanted to make him the same species as the Yamada brothers for wink-wink-nudge-nudge reasons, without making him the same species. He has far too much fur and is jet-black.

Bad Ass Temple

Kuko Harai - Sable.

I definitely wanted Kuko to be something weasel like - similarly to Ramuda, small and possibly unassuming, but actually very aggressive and territorial animals. Sables just happened to be the cutest and have a large population in Japan, so here we are.

Jyushi Aimono - White-necked Raven.

This is honestly the one I have the least explanation for. It just feels right in my gut, what with the symbolism surrounding Ravens.

Hitoya Amaguni - Racoon Dog.

Right up until the last second I had him as a bear, but as I was writing the explanation, the idea to make him a tanuki flew into my mind. In folklore, Tanuki would often impersonate authority figures to manipulate humans, and the thought of a Tanuki lawyer seems too good to pass up.

Additional

All members of Dirty Dawg were made canine on purpose, even if something else seemed more tempting or made more sense (like Horse Samatoki or Black-Footed Cat Ramuda).

I can't decide if herbivores would take the place of women in this AU or if it stays the same. For the time being just assume that Nemu is a fox while the rest of Chuugoku are herbivores, and that Hifumi has a fear of both, I suppose.

I'd imagine Ramuda and Kuko maybe dying parts of their fur to keep those aspects of their designs. Also all the piercings and such stay where they are.

Obviously some heights drastically change with this. Personally, the idea of a massive mastiff walking around behind a tiny parrot and a skink is really funny to me.

Please god please feel free to add on or correct or discuss I'm starving for someone to talk to about this.

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2021 Megaman Valentine’s Day Contest Results

Among the many things this past year or so has tested us with is delays, and I apologize that this year’s Valentine’s Day contest results are included in that. I certainly did not plan on this taking until March to get completed, and I am sincerely sorry to have kept you all waiting. But hopefully it is all worth the wait!!

Thanks once again to every single one of you who participated! I will be contacting the winners soon enough. Work will probably keep me from replying to everyone immediately, but I will send a message about prizes hopefully within 24 hours.

Also, my thanks to @subzeroiceskater​ for helping out with judging this year. Not to mention the promo pic above and other assorted bonuses that always bring me a big smile. I might say this seemingly every year, but you all made judging this VERY hard. It might have something to do with the themes as well, but I think both of us flipped and rearranged our rankings repeatedly, and even then, it was hard to decide on who would place. XD Each one of you did an amazing job!

After the break, you’ll see the winners for both categories, along with all of the entries. Raffle prize winners will be noted below by their alias, as well.

Category 1: Kiss From a Rosered (Talent)

For our talent category this year, the theme focused on your favorite Megaman characters giving roses to their special someone, along with incorporating the symbolism of specific rose colors within the piece. That rose color was also to be the predominant color within the piece, to the best of your ability.

A grand total of 9 entries were submitted for this category. You can see the full gallery of all entries at full-size [HERE]. Each entrant’s name will also link to their individual pieces at full-size.

1.) Sapphire: *$100 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

Oooooh, this is so cute and pink! Piiink~ Ehem. I love the depth, angle, and color grading of these—notice how Roll’s black linework is at the forefront of the pic but colors mixes with the lights and colors from the sun further along the pic. There’s a lot to admire about how everything easy to read with so many competing elements like the similar hues and bright lighting.

Pink roses usually mean a gentler sort of love but did you know that different shades of pink could signify different things as well? A darker shade may mean gratitude; medium shade could be about a first love or congratulations while a light shade may mean admiration. Tron holding a singular pink rose with varying shades of pink while literally tripping over herself and a Servbot could only mean—that this is hilarious.

Miyabi said:

From a technical standpoint, I think your piece clearly felt the most polished, crisp and virtually professional of the bunch. But more than that, I felt it also best gave off the vibe of the rose color dominating the piece, but in very subtle, beautiful ways. Where as the pink sunset causes many of the normally white areas, like Roll’s collar/sleeves, parts of Gustaff, and more, to ooze that pink lighting. Even with her klutziness, you still also portrayed the feeling of sweetness, admiration and appreciation that a pink rose conveys. Just so pretty, calming, and joyful to look at!

2.) Forceway: *$75 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

There is a sort of gentle irony with how Skull Man and Shade Man are both robots modeled after horror symbols—skulls and vampires—but are here surrounded by a soft sea of pink roses. The dark night is often depicted as a primal fear because it hides our deepest fears but here—illuminated by the bright shining moon—the night is transformed into a scene of love—perhaps devotion, with how Shade is gently cradling Skull, as well with the church bell in the background. This is a very tender piece mixing the shadows and the sweet.

Miyabi said:

I know most digital art programs have the brushes and shortcuts to make detailing things like roses a lot easier, but your bed of roses certainly look all done by hand on your own, and that alone impressed me a ton! Based off of the Ariga Megamix tale of Skull Man not feeling appreciated or having a family after Cossack stored him away, I felt the pink roses and Shade showing him that he is actually appreciated here was a fantastic conceptual choice. Purples in the sky and Shade’s body split the canvas and contrast with the pink well, including how you used the pink for some of the stars in the sky. Beautiful job!

3.) DigitallyFanged: *$50 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said:

Yellow is a bright color, often evoking the sun, warmth, light, joy and hope. With roses, its positive connotations continue with possible meanings of friendship, care and remembrance. Tabby’s piece seems to evoke the last one the strongest—with Zero, broken and forgotten in a lab—but, not entirely, because of a bond that is stronger than apparent death lives on—even if in this moment, it’s only a memory. Even the roses are not real—just projections of what was once alive. This is fantastic use contrast with the dark, moody blues against the vivid, almost defiant yellows; and the repeated little motifs such as X crying and the water drops falling all over Zero. It stands out from the rest of happy entries with how sad it is but it still manages to be hopeful.

Miyabi said:

Zero’s blonde locks certainly are an iconic part of his design, so playing off of that and focusing on yellow as your rose color fit perfectly. You definitely made this a very emotive piece considering technically, neither of these two are even alive and moving here! As mentioned above, the little details like the water droplets balancing against Cyber Elf X’s tears, the digital lines to make it appear like X has created the cyber-roses for Zero, and Zero’s battle damage caught my eye immediately. You certainly captured the yellow rose symbolism of remembrance and friendly affection beautifully!!

And the rest of the wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

AbilityField: [Page 1] [Page 2] [Page 3] [Page 4]

*Raffle Prize Winner* Captain N Mega Man Cel

Subzeroiceskater said:

It’s so poetic about how this contest theme is about how the language of flowers is used to communicate feelings beyond just using words; and so, the comic is completely silent, relying on actions to convey its meaning. Yellow roses could mean friendship, care and affection; and it’s shown wonderfully with how Iris and Lan are so thoughtful with one another. It’s so cute how Iris missed Lan only because he was already out buying roses for her. Given how hard comics are to make and how this is fully colored, I really wanted to give this first place—however I felt the color usage of yellow could have been stronger, especially with the last page, where it would have had the most impact. I had to squint and zoom out to even see if the lighting had changed. Still, it’s such a very warm and lovely work.

Miyabi said:

I always appreciate the effort people put into making multiple-page comics for these contests, and this is no exception! Even without dialogue, you did a great job at conveying your story through your art in each panel and it was easily understandable. Another utilizing the yellow rose, I certainly felt the friendship and warmth in your tale. As Subzero mentioned, the only thing keeping it from placing was that the yellow colors weren’t as dominant in other areas of the pic, besides the panel by Sal. Still, your coloring was very crisp and vibrant throughout each page, and it was an awesome submission!

aw-colorcat:

Subzeroiceskater said:

With the red for Metal Man, orange for Cut Man and the explosion of yellow flowers, that’s the trifecta of warm colors. Yellow roses could mean delight and this pic is delightful in all ways. Cut looks so cute practically swimming in the sea of flowers and greenery, as does Metal’s adorable expression—which is a feat since he only shows his eyes. I also really like the juxtaposition and balance of this piece from: the rust-brown car against green-yellow nature running wild, and Metal holding a bouquet meanwhile Cut’s covered with plants. It makes me want to get some fresh air myself!

Miyabi said:

Cut Man looks grateful for being able to ride in that pickup bed of flowers, and I have a feeling the two of them had a wonderful time just snipping and sawing away at all the stems to gather them all. XD Love how the yellow and oranges play off of both character’s color schemes nicely. The subtlety of the yellow flowers in the foreground, along with the sun and tree in the background all play off each other well, too! Just an absolutely cute pic!

Dark-Dullahan: 

Subzeroiceskater said: 

What a fantastic composition. Dark-Dullahan does away with most color, leaving the colors of the mixed-bouquet roses as the main focal point. Classic red for romance, a gentler pink for affection, mixed yellow roses to signify caring and probably so much more—seems like Nana can’t contain her feelings for Massimo. I love how the close up of the bouquet doesn’t just form a kind of heart at the top but serves as the divider between the two, like a diptych. With such a wonderful offering, Massimo would surely accept her feelings.

Miyabi said: 

As you brought to my attention, your mixed bouquet had a few different meanings, such as the dark pink representing thanks to Massimo for saving Nana from Silver Horn, and the red tips on the yellow roses to symbolize falling in love. Certainly got those vibes from her shy demeanor, as she sheepishly tries to hand them to him. Also agree with Subzero that the line from the bouquet nicely works as a way to separate them uniquely with the background. Sorry you weren’t able to complete it as fully as you had hoped, but the concept behind it certainly was strong!

Donnie:

Donnie also sent in an alternate version made during the creative process, in a different artistic style, that I still feel needs to be shared, as well. Fun to see the contrast, yet still have the same feeling and mood to the piece. 

Subzeroiceskater said:

Oh, I adore this one. It reminds me of a movie poster with the tagline. I love the extra PINK flourishes of the letterings like with the Mega Man logo color change and cute pixelated font and heart. Both Rock and Roll’s expressions are so cute, too—with his more subdued smile contrasted with her exuberant grin. Much like how the pink rose could mean many things like thoughtfulness, cheer or as a show of appreciation, this piece is positively sparkling with affection, hearts and all. It’s clever how the sunset is giving the picture an overall pinkish-red hue while having the yellow light as an outline. A darling piece.

Miyabi said:

With pink roses again, I truly liked the additional hue adjustments where you can feel the warmth and see the lighter pink mixed into their skintone, or areas normally of white - from eyes to teeth to the Megaman logo - that have taken on the pink in it’s place. With the painterly watercolor style you used, it all blends in nicely. Even in your earlier version, I feel you brought a strong game with the hues, but toned down the red from that version to make it feel much stronger towards pink, with a tighter crop of your canvas. It was fun to see how it evolved, and strengthened your piece in doing so! Fabulous job!

DragonMarquise:

Subzeroiceskater said:

No better way to show how madly in love you are than a bouquet of roses that run the gamut of—I can’t call these warm colors because these passions are running hot. Orange seems to be the dominant color here—which in roses could symbolize a love that’s passionate, fierce and deep. It’s also expressed nicely with the two lovers embracing, engaged in mid kiss, their bodies also forming a subtle heart shape, to emphasize the flurry of hearts around them. The bouquet is not just orange roses, however, but a mixed bouquet of the classic romantic red and the more affectionate pink—it’s a piece that’s bursting with all degrees of love.

Miyabi said:

You also certainly mastered the limited color pallette challenge as you tackled this piece! Orange, the color of passion, is certainly felt in their deep kiss and embrace. I too caught the heart shape their heads essentially form, which is then further enforced with the heart of hearts behind them. I thought that concept was pulled off very well. Perfect for the fiery intensity of Match, this turned out to be a very hot pic!

Mattasaurs:

Subzeroiceskater said:

This one has a very clever framing (eh? EH?). The color white is often associated with purity, innocence and hope, and with white roses—weddings and marriage. Sonia dons the classic white wedding dress which has a très élégante design—and the little Lyra on her belt is very cute. The pink background is also very romantic and a nice way to tie in with her theme colors. I dig the lovey-dovey feel of Geo doing the classic bridal carry while clasping a single white rose...but seeing the thorns, I think he better watch his hand!

Miyabi said:

For a theme emphasizing color within the pic, I salute you for taking the biggest challenge in choosing white. In many ways, it could have been the hardest to keep as a predominant color, but still make the pic interesting and visually appealing. Choosing to have the petals all around the frame, with the bouquet nearby was a clever touch. With white often used for weddings and new beginnings, I think the concept of your piece worked just right, where it was subtle, but still incorporated enough other color to give the piece some life. 

Category 2: Kawaii-rimi (Humor)

For our humor category this year, the theme focused on your favorite Megaman character gifting the plush form of another Megaman character to their crush, instantly created by a ninja-like character, to play off of the Kawarimi concept from the EXE series. 

With just 3 entries in our humor category this time around, every entrant placed. You can see the full gallery of all entries at full-size [HERE].  Each entrant’s name will also link to their individual pieces at full-size.

1.) Mattasaurs: *$100 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said: 

Y’know how blocks of wood are sometimes used by ninjas when they do that whole body switching thing? I think it’s clever how this pic has Sal—Woodman.exe’s operator—conjuring the doll. Everything about the pic is so fun and colorful: from Sal’s mischievous grin of accomplishment, Miyu being completely shocked by her chibi doppelganger (check out that body language!) and Masa’s confused expression.

Miyabi said:

Yes, while to some, Sal might not be the first one they think of when they think ninja in the Megaman Universe, but I certainly thought she still fits the bill in her design. Usually we don’t see this much emotion or shock out of Miyu, so seeing her torque her body, taken aback at a doll of herself, is amusing in it’s own right. Meanwhile, nothing fazes Masa. And a bit of randomness: oh man, seeing Masa’s head in profile, with his bandana...wow, I never realized how much his head shape with the bandana looks like a fish’s. I can’t unsee it now. Anyways, I also agree that the color, polish, and fun vibe made this a worthy winner!

2.) ColeManX: *$75 prize*

*Raffle Prize Winner* Captain N Cutsman Cel

Subzeroiceskater said:

E-Eyes? What did you mean by that, Mr. RT-55J?  Although judging from the sparkle on those booblights… I understand, Cinnamon—if that happened to me, I’d be making asides to the camera, like I was in “The Office”, too. Cinnamon’s enthusiastic smile with this whole bizarre scene really sells it for me but shoutout to Marino’s smug satisfaction in the background.

Miyabi said:

🎵 I kind of liked it your way How you shyly placed your eyes on me Did you ever know That I had mine on you?🎵

RT says it only has eyes for Cinny right now, but it’s also known to be a little grabby hands, so I don’t know if I’d fully trust it...but good thing this is just a plush version. Time for the tables to be turned, and Cinnamon to get her claws and paws on it, instead. Very cute, although after the DiVE V-Day event, we all know this is a ruse and your pal boobeyes only belongs to the Ferham Fanclub. XD

3.) Ronin-Apprentice: *$50 prize*

Subzeroiceskater said: 

This whole comic is so sweet and fluffy, nya!  ~(=^‥^)ノ☆ It’s adorable how Proto brings up his gift first and the surprise is how Shadow handmade his gift. The little cat-eared Blues design is so darling--almost as cute as him fussing how totally NOT a cat he is. “Did you steal my cat.” had me snorting. Now I’m wondering where Tango went off to…

Miyabi said:

FU-SION-HA! 

Aside from getting his own Super Adaptor, this is probably the closest we’ve got to seeing Tango and Blues merged as one. LOL I’m sure that plush would have a ton of fans wishing it actually existed. The panels where Blues embarrassingly hides behind his scarf and gets pet like a cat had me laughing! Very cute and adorable comic, that certainly had the most depth in terms of the theme of this category!

[misedejem]

Date Nights

Series: Persona 4 Ship: Kannao (Kanji Tatsumi/Naoto Shirogane) Word count: 9196

If ever Naoto was feeling low, Kanji would try harder than ever to show her how much he cared. Little gestures of good will and love that would go towards easing the pain. It had been that way from when they first met, and was still the case after over fifteen years.

So when Naoto found herself with Kanji in a slump and a few hours to spare, she took it upon herself to do the same.

(Basically lots of domestic future headcanon shenaningans~ As a note, Naoto is genderfluid in my fics, and this one uses she/her. AO3 link in the notes)

It had been an awfully long time since the Shiroganes had been working away from home at the same time.

Kanji had become unemployed almost two years ago and had been pooling his resources into his online store since then. And Naoto had been on leave a full year now, because of Chihiro, and then the upheaval and transfer of half the Shirogane agency from Tokyo to Yasoinaba. Save the odd local case, she’d effectively been forced to hang up the detective cap until life calmed down enough for her to return.

It was… a much-needed break. They could mutually agree on that.

Then, less than a month between moving into a house and the agency reopening, Yu Narukami had appeared on their doorstep one evening with ‘encouragement bentos’ and a request. The middle school he worked in as guidance counsellor had suddenly lost a teacher temporarily due to illness. The art teacher. She’d probably need at least six months to recover, but the new semester started in September and it was far too tight a deadline for the board to submit a request for a replacement.

“I mentioned you used to work as an art teacher in Tokyo, Kanji, and they said to ask you as soon as possible.”

Neither of them could have foreseen such a thing… But in a week, their situation had changed from both of them being at home, to both of them returning to work just a day apart from one another.

One day.

What a rare commodity that was.

As much as she adored it, Naoto’s career had always been taxing, keeping her late at night and seldom offering her a chance to catch her breath. After all, the Shirogane agency was lauded all across the country. Grampa had made such a name for it before he had died, and the attention she had gained from the media as the ‘first Detective Prince’ had only served to bolster the Shirogane name’s shining reputation once she’d taken over. That, and the fact that it was the only remaining detective agency in the country that specialised in Shadow-related incidents. They’d become ever more prevalent since the mental shutdowns and the Phantom Thieves incidents a decade ago had made knowledge of them more widespread in the seedier depths of society, and the Shadow Operatives had ensured to keep her busy when the cases grew too complex for them to handle.

That’s why they’d come back to Inaba of all places. With the TV World still very much active, it was the most potent place for illicit Shadow activities to occur in all Japan. And with the murmurings of new information cropping up, the higher ups had figured it may be a good idea to have a team of investigators to hand.

The detective had a lot of work waiting for her when her leave expired.

So, for her to be the one left with the house instead of Kanji for a full day… Well, she couldn’t exactly waste such an occasion.

“Momo, no -!  Don’t… climb in there…” Naoto sighed, watching as her orange tabby clambered her way into one of the cardboard boxes at the far end of the room. She knew it was a fruitless effort to try and stop her. Their other cat didn’t house much love for boxes, but Mochi had been found in one as a kitten and clearly had developed a natural affinity towards them as a result. Half their move had been spent trying to keep her out of them long enough to fill them.

“If you wish to help, the very least you could do would be to climb into the ones I haven’t yet searched,” she told her, crossing over to the box and hoisting Mochi out. “That way, I won’t be wasting any time by delving into boxes twice when I retrieve you.”

Unfortunately, Naoto’s request was not met with much approval. The cat just mewled indignantly, clearly unimpressed and unwilling to cooperate, and scampered behind the large pile in the centre of the garage, leaving the detective to continue her investigation on her own.

It was frankly impressive that all the miscellany crammed into these boxes had fit into their Tokyo apartment; big though it was, it had been severely lacking in storage. Half their belongings – all the stuff they didn’t desperately need - were all packed up in this room, waiting for a spare moment to be put in their rightful place. They’d had five weeks to unpack, and perhaps if they’d still been living as just the two of them, they’d have made more of a dent in it. That would certainly have made Naoto’s current task a considerable deal easier. But all the free time they had now was devoted to Chihiro. She was only just coming up on her first birthday, and she was still very much dependant on her parents every moment that she was awake. Even now, Naoto was only able to search the room because the infant was taking her midmorning nap.

She was looking for a binder Kanji had put together, containing a collection of their favourite recipes that he’d found online or written down over the years. Somehow, it had gotten separated from the recipe books when they had packed away their kitchen, and it had not yet resurfaced. This was a major blockade in her plan for the day. She needed that binder. Desperately.

Kanji had seemed rather perturbed as he’d prepared for work that morning. In fact, he’d seemed uneasy about it from the moment Yu had asked him to take it. It was… unlike him. He’d worked as an art teacher in a middle school back in the city for four years, and he’d loved every minute of it.

“Hmm? Course I want the job,” he’d told her when she’d questioned him about it over breakfast. “I miss this kinda shit, you know that.”

He had a smile on his face as he tried spooning a blob of mushed fruits into Chihiro’s mouth, but it was a strained smile if nothing else.

“You just seem tense, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well… So do you. Goin’ back to work after havin’ a kid is s’posed to be kinda rough.” He shrugged.

“I can’t deny that…” Naoto sighed. “Even knowing that your mother will be there for her, and that you’re only doing part time hours, the idea of leaving her alone at all is more taxing on me than I could ever have expected… That’s all it is though?”

Naoto could think of several other reasons Kanji might have to be nervous about this particular job. But on the off chance that they hadn’t crossed his mind yet, she refrained from bringing them up. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel worse.

There was a pause, filled only by Chihiro’s babbles and the sound of the cats zooming about the living room after one another in a burst of energy. As he scraped the last of the baby food from the pot and offered it to their daughter, Kanji’s face began to fall ever so slightly, and before long he was sighing.

“I really gotta… stop overlookin’ that I’m married to a detective.  I am scared shitless of leavin’ Chihiro for the first time. If anythin’s wrong, it’s that most of all. But uh… Otherwise I’m just a little weirded out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Middle school – this middle school – is kinda… where I started to get a bad rep… What… I dunno, what if they take one look at me and realise who I am and kick me out? Like, they don’t realise ‘Shirogane Kanji’ is actually ‘Tatsumi Kanji’ an’ once they do they won’t want me anymore? They don’t know why I resigned from my last job either, what if they think I did something bad an’–”

As his voice grew louder and more sporadic, his panic becoming so apparent that it was palpable, Naoto scooted her way over to him and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her head gently on his chest.

“You left on your own terms because you disliked the way the school was being run. You don’t have to disclose why. And Kan-chan… you don’t mean to tell me that I’ve kept you from your hometown for so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like? Inaba isn’t overly massive – rumours spread fast. I daresay there isn’t a person here who doesn’t know that the Tatsumi boy married that Detective Shirogane person. Especially not with how much your mother talks about us.”

She held him close for a while, rubbing her hand across his back even after his heart stopped pounding so hard, and his muscles began to relax.

“Yeah… I know… I know it’s a stupid thing to worry about, an’ that there ain’t no point in getting’ worked up about it…”

“Well, it’s not… stupid. I’d say it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to be concerned about, given the impact it had on you in the past. But I can assure you of this: they wouldn’t have hired you if they thought you were unfit for the position.”

He nodded, and a smile appeared on his face again – a genuine one, this time. For the rest of the morning, his dour disposition had dissipated somewhat, and his spirits certainly seemed higher when he had left the house.

But even if she had managed to cheer him up, Naoto knew the day would be a challenge for him no matter how many positive sentiments she sent his way. Returning to a place you had been mistreated, even after nearly twenty years had passed, was difficult enough as it was, without the thought of leaving your baby for the first time nagging at you as well.

That’s why she needed that binder. It contained the recipe for one of Kanji’s all-time favourite curries, one she believed even she could produce, and she figured he might need something like that when he returned home.

He often did little ‘date nights’ from home for them, for birthdays or anniversaries, or even just when Naoto was struggling with a tough case and needed a distraction or treat. They would put on whatever was comfortable, sit down with a meal and a drink, and more often than not, end up in a snuggled-up heap on the couch with a movie flickering on in the background. She hosted her fair share of them as well, but admittedly hers often involved an expensive night out at a restaurant. Kanji was the better cook, and he considered it a hobby more than simply something one needed to do to survive, but Naoto lacked the skill or drive to make a hand-crafted date night even without her long hours.

But this night would be an exception. She suddenly found herself with eight hours at home without him, and she would be a fool not to use that time to surprise him in the same way he always would with her. She’d throw him a date night so damn enjoyable that he’d forget all about his anxieties, no matter the cost.

That was… if she could find the damned recipe she needed to carry out her plan.

And so, she perused box after box in her investigation, leaving not even one overlooked. Old case files she’d had sent over from the Shirogane estate that had once belonged to her grandfather. An assortment of holiday decorations that really needed separating by date. Kanji’s miscellaneous box of scrap material. A box marked for charity of Naoto’s old clothes that had stopped fitting since she’d had Chihiro. Plushies. More plushies. Even the container of extra crockery, things that had come from the kitchen itself, bore no sign of the item she sought. An hour passed as though it were seconds, yielding nothing of value.

Had Kanji already moved it? It wasn’t as though she could ask him… Had they forgotten it? No, that apartment was spotless when they’d moved out. She’d triple checked it herself.

She foresaw herself spending all day searching at this rate… but she didn’t have all day. He’d be staying late for a debriefing, but even so, Kanji would still probably be home for five o’clock, and she still had to go to Junes to fetch the ingredients she was going to need.

Perhaps she could look it up online again? That was where Kanji had found it originally…

She sat herself, cross legged, on an old rug and pulled out her phone, plugging in the name of the recipe into a search engine, lifting her arm so that Mochi – tired of hiding – could come and curl up in her lap. And then, running the fingers of her free hand through Mochi’s fur, she began to scroll and click every site she could find.

But she recalled vividly the constitution of the page she was searching for, and none of these were it. She’d never read the words herself – having never made the recipe – and Kanji had decided to crop the name of the site it was from to maintain the ‘aesthetic’ of the folder, but she knew what it looked like. The colours, the typeface, the accompanying picture.

Nothing.

It was entirely possible the site had been redesigned or deleted. In which case she was out of luck online… It wouldn’t work for her to try a different recipe, it had to be that one. If it wasn’t that one, it wouldn’t taste the same, and then it wouldn’t be his favourite. Irritation began to swell within her as her endeavour began to look more fruitless, and she had to take a few moments to breathe and calm a little before moving onto her last resort: checking with Mrs. Tatsumi, with Yakushiji, and the Investigation Team on the off chance that maybe Kanji had lent them the recipe at some point.

Nos all around.

The irritation grew stronger.

And then, as though a timer had gone off signifying the end of her allotted time, the baby monitor sprung to life.

***

“Are… You even listening?”

Naoto huffed and folded her arms, wearing her most devastating expression of disappointment as she shook her head. She’d been talking for a good ten minutes, and she was beginning to wonder if any of it had been heard at all.

“’Course we are. You want to do something cute and romantic for the big guy, because you’re secretly a massive softie, but your first idea went bust.”

Yosuke offered her a cheeky wink and raised his soda cup in a mock toast, before turning back to fawn over Chihiro in Chie’s arms.

“But I dunno how you expect us to concentrate on anything else when you’ve brought this adorable little muffin along,” Chie added, putting on a baby voice and ‘booping’ said muffin on the nose. Chihiro giggled, her tiny face absolutely beaming with delight.

“Oh, I expect you to manage perfectly. If I can – if Kanji can – despite seeing every cute thing she ever does, then it should be no problem for somebody only exposed to it for a short while.”

A couple of hours had passed since Naoto had given up her search for the original recipe and had elected to change tactic. She would simply have to find… a different meal entirely. One that would still mean as much to Kanji. But a quick scour of the recipe books they had on hand in the kitchen yielded nothing.  And so, once Chihiro was fed and dressed appropriately for the late summer warmth, she walked her over to Junes to grab some supplies, hoping that by some pure miracle, looking at the ingredients on offer would spark some form of inspiration within her. Only, out of sheer coincidence, she had managed to time her visit perfectly with the end of Yosuke’s shift, and Chie’s day off.

The two of them could often be found talking in the food court on their off-hours. It had been that way since high school, through all the changes and remodels they’d made to the layout of the store over the years and would likely continue to be that way as long as Junes stood and they remained in Inaba. It was the secret headquarters of the Investigation Team, after all. It wasn’t a place you could so easily give up.

So, guided by tradition, they all sat together, sharing a Takoyaki selection in the summer breeze – a welcome change from the mustiness of the Shirogane residence garage – Yosuke and Chie completely spellbound by the baby while Naoto explained her predicament. She had hoped they’d be a little more attentive, and frankly more helpful, but… she supposed she couldn’t fault them. Chihiro was effectively their niece, and she’d been in Tokyo for the past year.

But at least they were making her happy. Seeing her so ecstatic, despite Kanji being gone for so long, certainly helped ease some of the anxieties she had been feeling about leaving her. Getting her acquainted properly with the people who would likely be babysitting her until well into her teens was certainly not a bad thing… although… Naoto was on a tight schedule.

“Aaanyway.” She rapped the table lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Regretfully my first idea – the one that was ah… ‘bust’, as you said – was also my only idea. I’m currently running at a loss on where to proceed from here…”

At the very least they were nodding along now, and looking at her as she spoke.

“…Chie-chan, do you have date nights? What do you usually do?”

“Hmm? Yeah, of course we do! But, uh… Yukiko and I always go out for ‘em. You know, because the inn keeps her so busy and I –”

“Can’t cook anything without it coming out tasting of cardboard?” Yosuke supplied, grinning. Chie shot him a mean look, but nodded nonetheless.

“Pretty much…”

“In most instances, that would be my go-to as well,” Naoto said, holding back a grin at Yosuke’s comment. “Hand-crafted anything is Kanji’s forte, not mine, but… we both agree the ones at home are more enjoyable, no matter how good the food may be in a restaurant.”

“You’re like… the most private people I’ve ever known, so that isn’t surprising.”

She gave an affirming nod. Lovely as it was to go all out sometimes at an expensive eatery, there were always… stares. No matter where they were, people would see them and notice. Sometimes they’d simply recognise the Detective Prince, and that was all they’d see. But other times their eyes would linger longer. They’d take note of Kanji’s piercings and spikes combined with the cute animals and soft colours, analyse Naoto’s dedication to old English fashion and deliberate lack of conformity to any gender, and then keep their gazes trained on the two of them as they attempted to pick apart every contrasting aspect. The way they looked and dressed alone, the way they looked and dressed together… it made going out in public difficult for two people who both struggled to some degree with social anxieties and a history of being scrutinised for the way they were.

Kanji had left the house worrying he was going to be judged. She didn’t want to put him through that twice in one day.

“Well, is there anything else you’ve made before that you know he likes?” Yosuke asked, helping himself to the Takoyaki  

Naoto frowned. “Well, yes, but all of it is rather… typical? I have a small repertoire, you see.”

“So you want something different? Hmm… Why don’t you just go ham?” Chie suggested with a genuine smile. “Grab stuff you think’ll go together and make a totally new curry. Heck, doesn’t even gotta be curry.”

“That’s how you end up with Mystery Food X: Redux,” Yosuke warned, and Chie’s smile instantly vanished. “Though actually, Naoto… In your sensible hands you’d probably be okay. You actually know how to cook.”

“If I wasn’t holding a baby right now, I would kick you.”

“Without a recipe at all…?” For a moment, the detective was left perplexed. But before long, a thought came across her mind, and that irritation from earlier came grumbling back into her periphery. “Yosuke-kun. Please. I simply don’t have the time to spare for your… japes and mockery. I need you to be serious.”

She expected him to laugh, as he often would when she caught him out while he was joking. She didn’t do so very often, loathe as she was to admit it, and it had become something of a game to Yosuke to see how long he could keep pushing her buttons.

But this time he threw up his hands instead, with… was that his face now contorted in confusion as well?

“H-hey, I am being serious. Promise. If you genuinely have no other ideas, then I begrudgingly accept that Chie might be onto something.”

“And I’m supposed to do that without instructions?” She asked incredulously, raising her eyebrows. Was she being foolish and naïve? Or was Yosuke the one reeking of inexperience? “You act as though you believe I have time to memorise every food combination, and how to make them work. I am a detective, not a chef, Yosuke-kun. Recipes exist so that I don’t have to preoccupy my brain with trivialities such as cooking from memory.”

“Hey, it was Chie’s idea, not mine!”

“You should know better.”

The raised voices and snipes were a staple of any conversation involving Yosuke and Chie, and at this point Naoto had come to learn that it was largely performative. They ‘fought’ with warm regards. She’d even reached a point where she was able to go along with it without utterly deflating the mood. But to Chihiro, with no grasp of the concept of banter, it was all just loud, frightening noises coming from people she didn’t know all too well. The conversation very quickly had to switch courses when a crying spell threatened to rear its head.

“You know… you never asked me what I do for date nights,” Yosuke pointed out once the baby had been settled. She now lay propped up on Naoto’s lap, nodding off with her little head resting on her chest. Naoto constantly considered herself fortunate that Chihiro wasn’t especially fussy. Sometimes on a good day all she needed to calm right down was a cuddle.

“Hmm?” she looked up. If Yosuke had said anything before that, she had been too preoccupied with gently coaxing her daughter to nap to hear it. “Oh, no, I suppose I didn’t…”

Chie, who had moved into the more comfortable position of resting her chin on her hand now her arms were free, scoffed slightly.

“Dude. Maybe because you don’t have anybody to date?”

“Well… No, but I’ve been on dates. More than one with the same person. I have experience, I’m just… not experiencing it right now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, casting his gaze off to the side. “Dinner dates aren’t really my thing though…”

“So, why’d you even bring it up?”

“Hey! I’ve been on… like, one dinner date. I’m just not the guru of them!” He shrugged. “It’s an interesting story actually… I got set up a few years ago by my bandmates, and it turns out the guy isn’t my type at all. But I didn’t want to say no without at least giving him a chance, so… Y’know. He wants to go out to this fancy French place, but we get there and they’re closing early because of… Uh, I think the kitchen flooded or something like that? So, he takes me back to his place and leaves me there, runs off to go shopping, and comes back and cooks a three-course French meal himself.”

“And you didn’t marry him on the spot?”

“Nah. We did a couple more dates but it didn’t really work out. We weren’t super compatible...”

“Is this why you get Rise to vet anybody you’re gonna date now?”

“Pretty much. You guys know me best, so…”

The two of them continued to talk, but from Naoto’s perspective, their voices had been drowned by her thoughts into a dull and distant murmur. From the moment Yosuke had finished his story, the gears in her brain had whirred into motion, working their way into fabricating a plan formed from his words.

It had hit her at last. A wave of inspiration and relief, tantamount to the feeling she would have when she’d finally cracked the secret to a particularly arduous case.

A plan. Followed by a conjured image of how Kanji’s face might look when he saw it.

“Yosuke-kun…” she began, standing slowly so that she did not wake the baby and gently lowering her into the buggy she had parked next to her seat. “Would you be able to look something up for me? While my hands are full.”

***

January 19th, 2025. Little over a year and a half ago. London, England. They’d been abroad for a few weeks at that point, Naoto on a case for the Shadow Operatives, and Kanji taking advantage of her hotel room to table at an artist’s alley in a convention.

It was something of a special occasion. Kanji’s 29th birthday had been the original cause for celebration, but to him at least that was very much an aside. It was, what, only three hours prior to reaching the restaurant that they’d found out Naoto was pregnant.

There had been several sources for the reasoning behind Naoto’s choice in establishment, and unlike most of her destination picks while they’d been in London, none of them had a single thing to do with Sherlock Holmes. The ones that stood out the most: a churning in her stomach – simultaneously a mental and a physical reaction to her current condition – and a particularly mournful image of her mother-in-law from a few months prior.

“There was this little place my late husband and I would always take Kanji when he was young, if we had to travel to Okina. Italian, it was, family run. I just heard from a customer that it was recently shut down because the owner passed. It has me a little down to think of, that’s all Naoto dear.”

A precious memory from Kanji’s childhood was no small matter, harrowing as such a thing was to think. And Italian… parsing through her options in her mind as she browsed the local restaurants on one of those food apps, Naoto took note of how the one being advertised made her insides turn the least at the thoughts of it. It was one of those smaller, more community-based places, while the others were either going to be full of too-rich smells for her poor stomach to handle, or full of classy, antiquated rules and stares that she didn’t feel up to taking that day.

She didn’t want to make her husband eat hotel food on his birthday… And nor did she want to worry him all evening by being exceptionally edgy. So it didn’t take very long at all for her to have dialled the number for the family-run Italian place, and had booked them a table for two that evening.

The food had been… good. Standard fare for that kind of place. But Naoto was a harsh critic – even without feeling deeply unwell, she had been to Italy. And yet, in all the fifteen years she had known Kanji, she could not recall a single meal out where he seemed to have enjoyed himself quite as much as that. The rush of euphoria from learning he was going to be a father had apparently been enough to turn any experience he may have had that night into the best date night of his life. And Naoto knew the kind of man he was. Sentimental, perceptive, prone to dwelling on the little things. He’d remember, starkly, what he had eaten then.

It was just a pasta meal. She recalled it being made with chicken and a creamy, pesto-based sauce, and Yosuke’s internet search had quickly pulled up a recipe for something along those lines. It wouldn’t be the same – these places kept their recipes close to the heart – but that didn’t matter. Her plan had now become a case of finding something symbolic, over finding something that tasted good.

“I think he’s really starting to rub off on you,” Yosuke had noted as Naoto had prepared to rush off to grab the ingredients from the recipe he had found. “Kanji, I mean. In a good way.”

She’d queried him on that. Her own sharpness didn’t exactly extend to analysing herself.

“I just meant that five years ago, I don’t think you’d ever have thought to do something like this. I always took you for the… less cliché of the two of you. Didn’t you propose to him spontaneously in a cat café? If you don’t mind me asking… why is this the first thing you thought to do for him?”

A pause for Naoto to collect her thoughts. One that, much to everyone’s surprise, didn’t last nearly as long as it might have.

“It’s… because this is logical to me. A dinner date – it’s the simplest, most common activity in the books. It’s a cliché because its effective. Because food is one of those love languages that transcends barriers, and to somebody who struggles in most social situations, like Kanji, like me, you must understand that something like this is a life saver. It’s a change to our routine that really doesn’t change all that much.” She smiled to herself. “Kanji does this to make me feel happy. So many people do, for the person they love. It only makes sense to me that I follow their lead.”

It was that way for most matters of the heart, she thought to herself as she balanced a packet of chicken on the hood of the buggy. She had never known how to act in these situations, how to express the feelings she had. And while she’d devised some unique little ways that she had managed to convey to Kanji, oftentimes the most effective means of telling him that she loved him was to simply use another person’s idea as a foundation. She had her own experiences as proof that it worked. After all, Kanji was a person who had been so starved for and scared of affection as a child that now, almost anything that said ‘I care about you’ was enough to draw him to tears. And Naoto was no different. He was more physical than her, and really that was the only major way in which their feelings towards romance diverged. The things that made one of them happy was sure to leave the other in the same state.

***

Naoto loved Kanji more than she hated cooking. That was really the defining fact that made this entire plan of hers possible at all.

Because she really hated cooking.

“I’ll prolly be home in like… forty minutes,” Kanji had told her over the phone when she’d given him a tentative call at just gone four to gauge how long she had. Pasta wasn’t exactly something she could make well in advance – just the thought of reheating it or overcooking it made her skin crawl. It was one of those things she needed to be perfect. Kanji, thankfully, didn’t have a preference.

So, she’d had to leave making the actual meal until as close to Kanji’s arrival as she could predict. But it wasn’t as though she had time to spare… She had to make the table, feed the cats, feed the baby, put the baby down for a nap…  

Then she had to cook the chicken and the pasta… that was fine, it just… radiated a lot of heat for a day that was already rather warm. Inaba’s houses were old, and they didn’t yet have much ventilation or air conditioning.

Then was the sauce, and she had to do some vegetables, but she had to keep stirring the sauce so it didn’t ruin the consistency, and she had to keep turning the meat and the veggies so they wouldn’t burn, and oh, the pasta might stick or become overdone if she wasn’t careful. Then it would just become stressful. Every meal, every time. No matter how methodical she tried to be, it would always devolve into this.

It was a focus thing, she was sure. When she homed in on a task or a detail, it became quite difficult to switch gears on the fly. A useful skill for analysing a murder case. Not so much for cooking.

It was why, when they were both at home, she and Kanji would often just cook dinner together.

But occasionally, and for the sake of somebody she cared about, it was worth it.

She was just at the stage where she was plating up the food, trying to get it to look as it did in the picture on the website, when the familiar sight of an old, dusty car that had at one point been purple staggered its way up their driveway, starkly contrasted with the shiny motorcycle it had pulled up next to. As Kanji climbed from the car, Naoto carefully studied his face, trying to glean from his expression how exactly he was feeling in that moment. But Kanji had a naturally angry look to him, so such a task was often difficult to undertake.

“You makin’ garlic bread, Nao?” he called from the porch almost as soon as the door had slid shut.

“You’ll see,” was all she said in response. With Kanji just moments away from seeing what she had done, she found herself buzzing with anticipation.

“Wuzzat s’posed to mean?” he asked, sticking his head around the door into the kitchen.

For a moment, his forehead crinkled as he took everything in, his eyes lingering on the table made up as closely to that of a restaurant as Naoto could manage, with cloth, candles, and an arrangement of Kanji’s favourite red roses (albeit that was rather haphazardly done).

And in that moment Naoto felt as though her heart had somehow managed to stall.

But the tension was brief, quickly dissipated by the biggest, goofiest grin taking up a huge portion of Kanji’s face.

He strode into the room and pulled his partner into a powerful hug all in a motion that was so fluid, you wouldn’t think it was Kanji performing it.

“I can see you’re ready to reopen the agency, huh?”

Naoto smiled and shook her head, before snuggling her cheek into Kanji’s chest. “Don’t mistake this for a fit of boredom – I’ve been anything but. Welcome to our first date night back in Inaba.”

“Huh? W-wait, hold up… Date night? You did this… fer me?”

His eyes threatened to grow wider than his smile had those few moments earlier, as the realisation of the circumstances slowly began to dawn on him.

Then, as was customary for Kanji whenever Naoto would do anything for him ever, his face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet, and he began stammering unintelligible gibberish.

“Quickly now, before it cools down!”

“Y…Yuh…”

This was… odd. Kanji seemed unequivocally, unprecedentedly broken. His movements as he crossed to the counter and grabbed his plate, were mechanical, shaken, even. They weren’t unheard of for him, but it was as though they had suddenly been transported fifteen years into the past once more. Before they had fallen in love, before they’d even been close friends, when Kanji was so overcome with embarrassment whenever they spoke that he would be unable to function.

Now they were married, it wasn’t exactly commonplace.

Had something happened to him at work which had left him overwhelmed?

“Kanji?” Naoto called out tentatively as they took their seats.

“…huh?”

“You seem… Rather out of it.”

He blinked a couple of times and shook his head. “Right. Yeah… Sorry…”

He cleared his throat and repeated the process of shaking his head.

“It’s just, uh… ‘M kinda at a loss for words. This is… Wow.”

A tension she hadn’t recognised until it was gone suddenly flooded from her body with a sigh of relief.

“For a moment there I was concerned that something was wrong, so –”

“More like… everythin’ is right. I never pegged you fer someone who’d do date nights Tatsumi style.”

“…Tatsumi style? So this…” she waved an arm across the table. “This is something you observed… what, from your parents?”

He nodded. Naoto didn’t realise it was possible for him to turn redder until just then.

“Ain’t really a lotta options for fancy restaurants like what you do out here. Ma and my old man always improvised at home. I know cookin’ yer partner a meal ain’t somethin’ my folks made up, they just ended up callin’ it that… Nickname kinda stuck.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Well, I suppose I have rather adopted a Tatsumi way of behaving today. Our roles have been utterly reversed. Why, I daresay after dinner, I shall take up a crochet project, and you’ll lull our Chihiro to sleep by reading her more of ‘A Study in Scarlet’.”

“I love you, Naoto.”

“Eh?”

But instead of elaborating, Kanji simply left his partner to turn an equally furious shade of red while he took a bite of the food. Naoto found herself so flustered that she didn’t even have time to be nervous about him trying the dish.

But, she supposed, she didn’t really have anything to worry about. This was Kanji.

“…I better never hear the words ‘I’m not very good at cooking’ comin’ from yer mouth again.”

“Well… Regardless of the quality of the food –” she began, about to launch into a spiel about how the mess she made, and how stressful it was for her, suggested that she technically wasn’t exactly on the level of a master. But all it took from Kanji was a single glare, and she stopped herself.

This was supposed to be a pleasant evening. And he did hate when she was self-deprecating in any capacity.

“I’m glad you like it Kan-chan.” She smiled, taking her own first bite. Hmm. Not bad. She wasn’t sure how this was supposed to taste – she’d been feeling far too unwell that night in London to eat much at all, so she’d ordered a lighter dish – but how it did taste was pleasant.

“Better than it was on my birthday that one time. Dunno if you remember, but at that one Italian place when we were in England –”

“Where do you suppose I gained the inspiration to make this particular meal?”

“Huh? Well shit, haha. Last time I ever doubt yer memory.”

“Hm, well… I don’t think I’m capable of forgetting that day…”

Kanji slid his free hand across the table and placed it atop hers, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles. Strange, she noted, that the nail was still painted black; she was sure the school would make him take the colour off alongside his piercings.

A nagging feeling in her chest, her stomach, her mind was begging her to ask him how it had gone. But it was not the only train of thought on the feeling that she had. What if Kanji didn’t want to talk about it yet? What if it was best to simply… enjoy the meal in ignorant bliss? Was he waiting for the right time, or for her to say something?

He looked as though he were about to speak now, was that the subject he was going to bring up?

“How has Chihiro been today?”

No. Of course not. The subject of work would have to wait.

As with… most of their conversations over the past year, the rest of the meal was largely dominated with Chihiro. Naoto describing, in detail, exactly what she had done, and Kanji’s expression growing fonder and fonder with every word. By the time they were done eating, he looked as though he were going to cry.

“Kinda sad that this is our lives goin’ forwards…”

“Hm?”

“Nothin’… just been missin’ her at work is all.”

The nagging feeling was very quickly becoming anxiety. The first mention of his day all evening, and it was something negative.

“Kanji, was everything –”

A sound suddenly stole her words before she had the chance to finish. A baby crying, as audible through the walls as it was the baby monitor on the counter.

“Prolly needs changing, huh?” Kanji smiled, rising to his feet. “Mind if I take this?”

“Please… She probably misses you too.”

In the time that Kanji was attending to the baby, Naoto managed to load everything that needed cleaning into the dishwasher, and found her way to the living room, and then to the couch. But her mind wasn’t exactly responsive as she did so.

Kanji… was worse than she had anticipated… More than just a simple meal could possibly hope to fix. Why on earth… What delusion had she been under to think, with how he’d been these past few days, that a little romantic gesture would be all he needed to feel better.

Amidst the haze that was buzzing in her mind, she vaguely registered her hands clenching into fists.

At some point, goodness knew when, Kanji had reappeared in the room and had sat down next to her, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She’s back down. Heh… Wanted to play as soon as she saw me, the little tyke, but could barely keep her eyes open long enough to do it.”

“She’s had… a busy day.”

“Ain’t we all?” he said with an air of exhaustion about him, placing his glasses gently on the kotatsu in front of them and then sinking back into the couch. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“I’ve been ready for weeks. Waiting on other people…” Naoto mumbled in response. Her gaze had fallen as she’d spoken to her socks, and she could not bring herself to remove it until Kanji nudged her with his arm.

“Hey. You good, Nao?”

“…Are you?”

That brought the conversation to a standstill.

“Would ya believe me if I told ya I was jus’ tired?”

“Only… partially.”

He gave her a half smile and repositioned himself so that his head lay on her shoulder.

“It was… a pretty exhaustin’ day… Lotta new stuff. Lotta old stuff too… that school ain’t changed in twenty years. Amazing it’s managed so long.”

Naoto just made an affirming noise and let her hand come to rest on his shoulder, pressing her cheek onto the top of his head. Best just to let him speak, she thought.

“Ain’t none of the people I knew still there but… they knew who I was. Course they did… didn’t expect any different. An’ you know what?”

“Hm?”

“Most of ‘em just complimented me on the plushies. They knew me ‘cause of the shop, not… ‘cause of the delinquent shit.”

“Well, that’s… good, is it not? That’s what we hoped would happen.”

She felt him shift his head as though he were trying to nod. His arm had worked its way around her waist, and she felt him bunching up the fabric of her dress shirt in his fingers as he spoke. It was an unconscious habit of his. Most notable when he was nervous.

“Yeah… Never said it weren’t good. Jus’ that I was tired. And that I missed my kid. And you.”

Naoto drew a deep breath. “It seemed like something was wrong, that’s all. I’ve been worried about you. All day. All week.”

“…That why you’re not okay?”

“Yes! Effectively!”

Another brief standstill.

“Sorry ‘bout that… Really… Last thing I wanted was for my bullshit worrying over nothing to affect you too.”

Naoto squeezed his shoulder slightly.

“You should know by now that such a thing is impossible. The same can be said of you, to me. We’ve been in this partnership since we were in high-school, Kan-chan, we can’t simply… hide our true feelings any longer. We know each other too well to be caught out.”

“Yeah… s’pose you’re right… I did appreciate it though. Back before I went in today and realised my worries were a load ‘a crap. I… I dunno, I guess comin’ back to Inaba after so long had me thinkin’ that everythin’ was gonna go back to the way it was.”

“Kanji… You weren’t… Please don’t tell me you’ve been thinking that way since we first planned to come.”

Silence. Naoto’s heart dropped. Obviously, that meant she was right on the mark.

Good lord, she had still been expecting when they’d first discussed moving back! Their daughter was one in a week!

“’s in the past now though. All of it,” he said eventually. “Physically this place ain’t no different, but I guess the vibe has changed since we were kids. Maybe… Enough time has passed now that I ain’t gotta worry about… the guy I was.”

“Kanji… I rescind what I said earlier. About how it’s impossible to hide our feelings from each other. Please… when it’s something serious like this, I implore you to tell me.”

Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. If she did, he’d try to make this about her, and dammit, she was tired of it being about her. The entire point of everything she had done that day was to make it about Kanji for once in his life.

“…’M sorry, Nao…”

After that, for a long while neither of them spoke. They simply adjusted themselves into a position where they could more easily cuddle and sat there, snuggled into each other as the dwindling oranges and purples of the twilight sky gave way to darkness.

Kanji was the one to break the silence, his voice so slick with sleepiness that it was demure in a way which was much unlike him.

“Hey Nao… Yer still awake, right?”

“Mmhmm…” she responded. It was… mostly true.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. I got a new goal now we’re back here… I wanna be able to look that bastard in the eye and tell him he ain’t me. Not because I’m denyin’ anythin’, but because he ain’t.”

“Him? Your Shadow?”

“Yeah. Like you can, y’know? If your Shadow popped their head back up and started sayin’ the same shit as before, you could just tell ‘em: ‘you’re wrong.’ ‘Cause they would be.”

“But they wouldn’t say something like that. My age and gender no longer cause me grief to the level they had in my youth, so my Shadow wouldn’t bring them up.”

Of course, they wouldn’t. Naoto thought that was obvious. She was thirty-one, very much an adult, and any doubt she had about whether she was a man or a woman were significantly eased when she had learned that she could be both and neither. She had no lack of confidence in those aspects of herself, regardless now of what other people thought, so there was no way the Shadow could use them as ammunition if they were to reappear.

But based on Kanji’s next statement, suddenly full of more vigour than his words prior, she wondered if perhaps she had misunderstood where he was coming from.

“Yeah, but that’s what I’m saying! The stuff your Shadow said back then… It ain’t even crossin’ your mind anymore. I wanna be the same… I mean… It’s not that I ain’t happy with who I am. I like cute shit, and sewing, and all the stuff like that. Shit, I’m bi as hell. I can say that stuff proudly. It’s…” he huffed. “For some reason, it’s like I can be confident in myself all I want, but in my head it don’t mean shit unless everyone else feels the same way. An' as long as I got a history as 'the guy who beats up bikers', it's like that day ain't gonna come... I’m… still scared shitless of bein’ rejected after all these years... It’s like… every time I meet a new group of people, I just end up wonderin’ how long its gonna be before they brand me a thug and cut me and everyone I care about off. Think that’s kinda the reason it’s been weighin’ on me again so much more recently. I start comin’ up with scenarios in my head where it gets outta hand and Chihiro gets hurt ‘cause of it.”

As he spoke, his hug became tighter.

“Kan-chan…”

“So, my goal is to get to a place where I don’t constantly worry about that stuff. Where if that bastard showed up again and said that kinda shit, I could deny him with my whole heart and know for certain that I’m right an’ he’s wrong. An’ before you say shit, I know that ain’t how Shadows work. That’s jus’ the image I use in my head to try an’ visualise what I’m itchin’ to do.”

He added that last part with a hint of a laugh to his tone.

So that was why he took a job he was so caught up about? As some concrete way of proving to himself that he would be okay if he did?

A self-destructive means of gathering evidence for a hypothesis… hm… perhaps Naoto’s inheritance of Kanji’s traits over the years had gone the other way as well.

“I didn’t realise it was possible to be so unbelievably proud of somebody, while simultaneously thinking them a fool…” Naoto ensured to keep her own tone bright, so that he would know she spoke in endearing terms. “You know I would have supported you through this if only you had told me –”

“Hah. Yer actin’ like you take me for the kinda guy who thinks this shit through… this ain’t exactly something I’ve been plannin’ or nothin’, it just sorta… came to me now.”

Oh, so it was a subconscious instinct?

Then perhaps he would be safe from her bad influence for just a little while longer…

“Well… regardless of how much preparation has gone into it… it is a good goal to have in mind, so long as you’re comfortable with the pain it may bring in the process.”

“Yeah. No problem. Anyway…” he sat up and looked her in the eyes. “What was that you were implyin’ with the whole ‘you know I would have supported you’ bull you just said?”

Naoto frowned. “It’s the truth –”

“Yeah, I know it’s the truth. Because you have been supportin’ me, dumbass. You ain’t ever stopped.” He thrust his arm in the vague, general direction of the kitchen, a wild delight dancing in his eyes. “You spent the last day of yer maternity leave makin’ sure I’d have a good evenin’ because you thought I needed cheerin’ up.”

Naoto felt her cheeks heat up. “I… I only did what you would do for me…”

“Yeah, but it ain’t like I made you do it. You still made the decision. It’s amazin’, an yer incredible, and adorable, an’ you make a freakin’ awesome pasta, an’ I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

She knew she was blushing harder and harder with every word, to the point where all she could think to do was bury her face into his shoulder.

“Feel kinda bad that we kinda got side-tracked from the ‘date night’ though… Sorry if you had anything else planned.”

“No, no, don’t feel bad. I did this because I thought you needed it, Kanji. And I don’t suppose I’m wrong in suggesting that you very much needed this talk as well?”

“…You ain’t wrong… Not at all.”

“And do you feel any better for having it?”

“Mmhmm.”

Naoto lifted her head and gave him her warmest smile. “Then I can safely declare this date night a resounding success.”

“Damn right, you can! But uh… I don’t wanna take away from anythin’ else you mighta wanted to do, so –”

The heat in her cheeks returned as quickly as it had vanished, and she sheepishly averted his gaze. Right. Date night was usually more than a meal.

“Uhm... About that. Kanji, I’ll be perfectly honest with you, I… I was so caught up in trying to find a recipe for dinner that it never even occurred to me to look for a movie or something to do afterwards.”

She offered him an apologetic look, but his immediate response was only to laugh and hold her closer.

“Don’t think I coulda made it through a movie anyway… I’m beat…”

“As am I. I think I may drift off here…”

It quickly became apparent that each of their ideal end to the evening would be to turn in early and hope to gain a restful night – something that was near impossible with a small child. Whether such a thing was an indication of how eventful their day had been, or whether it was simply a sign of them getting older, neither really cared to consider. Instead, they just ensured the house was secure, called the cats to follow them, and moved upstairs as quietly as they could so that their footsteps wouldn’t cause Chihiro to stir.

It wasn’t until Naoto had switched her outfit for one of Kanji’s old shirts and was brushing her teeth in the upstairs bathroom that it dawned on her: there was still one aspect of her day that had yet to be cleared up.

And now that it had come to mind, she feared she may be unable to sleep until she had an answer.

“Kan-chan?”

“Hm?”

“You know the binder you keep with recipe print-outs…? Do you have any idea what box it’s in?”

His face was mostly buried by the bedsheets by now, but she could tell from the part she could see that he was thinking hard.

“Uh… Oh! My car.”

“…Your car?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want the other kitchen stuff to squash it, so I put it separate. I see it every time I go in there an’ I keep saying I’ll bring it in and never do. How come…?”

Naoto heaved a great sigh and flopped on the bed besides him. It wasn’t until her face hit the pillow that she realised exactly how exhausting her day had been. “So you had it all along… I never would have found it.”

“You were lookin’ for it?”

“I was. I wanted to make you that curry instead, the one you called your favourite.”

“Ohhhh. I getcha now." He laughed. "That woulda been a good choice. But y’know anythin’ would have been fine. I got a real soft-spot for Italian food, hehe.”

“I like that curry myself though,” she added, as she shuffled under the covers. “It’s rare to find something spicy that you can handle as much as I…”

“You do, huh? I see.”

There was silence for a while. And then…

“Hey, Naoto…?”

“Mmm?”

“When’s your next day off?”

“My next day off…? That would be Sunday… Why?”

But Kanji didn’t answer. Instead, he just leaned over to kiss her goodnight, and then, with a sleepy smile, he rolled over and went to sleep.

[jayfrost-designs]

This is also from December of last year.

I've had a new idea in my head for Darkstripe for a while now, and after getting all those other ref sheets that I needed to do done, I decided to run with it.  You may have noticed a change in the name of his father in his bio. Don't worry about that just yet.  I'll get to it after talking about the design.

The reverse side of his design can be seen here.

On his wiki page, Darkstripe is described as a large, lean, sleek, and thin-furred tom. I misread the "thin-furred" part of his description as "thick-furred" when I started designing this, so he ended up with a rather thick pelt. Oops.  My explanation/excuse for this is that the thin-furred description comes from his appearance as a Dark Forest cat, so as a living cat he had sleek, thick fur, but after dying he started going all patchy and ragged and his fur started to get pretty thin in places. So that's my half-baked excuse for that.  I went pretty free-hand with this design, but he's mostly based on Turkish Vans, and is meant to be decent-sized and muscular, with a thick mediumish pelt. He has a smaller version of his mother's ear tufts and a decent amount of scars, since he was always pretty aggresive.

For his pattern, Darkstripe is described as a dark gray tabby tom with black stripes and yellow eyes. I completely changed his design from his old one and went for a smoke tabby look for him this time around. His black stripes don't stand out as much as on his old design since the rest of the pelt is darker now, but they're still there, and he's overall a very dark-looking cat, so Dark- fits him well as a prefix. I played around with his design a lot before I was happy with it, but I'm really happy with the end result. ^^ I came up with a fresh shade of yellow for his eyes as well. ^^

Now for the fun part. Since Tawnyspots is no longer listed as his father on the official family tree, I decided to come up with a new headcanon for who his father is. I considered a few cats from ThunderClan at first, but none of them seemed to fit. But then I had a really interesting idea for his father - and for the reason he's a smoke tabby. I'll explain everything below - starting with Willowpelt's story. Apologies in advance for the length. ^^

~-~-~

As a young cat, Willowpelt gets lonely sometimes. Her sister is busy training to be a medicine cat, and Redtail throws himself into his warrior duties so much that he doesn’t spend as much time with her as either of them would like. She doesn’t begrudge either of them their ambitions - she knows Redtail wants to be the best warrior he possibly can (and later has his eye on the deputyship), and Spottedleaf will make an amazing medicine cat. But she doesn’t share their ambitions. She’s always been a much more relaxed cat, content to do her duties as a warrior, but not pushing beyond that, preferring to spend her time racing through the forest on the wild excitement of the hunt, and spend lazy days sunning in the grass, rather than busying herself with constant patrols and duties.

So while her siblings are busy with their work, Willowpelt seeks out companionship elsewhere. She’d always been curious about twolegplace, hearing stories about how their last leader had left to live there, and decided to check it out one day. She doesn’t find Pinestar - but she does find some friendly kittypets who welcome the visit of a real wild Clan cat. She continued to visit occasionally over the moons, whenever she’s feeling particularly lonely. She’s never swayed by the thought of becoming a kittypet herself - she loves her Clan, and her freedom, too much - but she’s happy to visit her kittypet friends whenever she can.

She grows particularly close with a sleek, handsome smoke tom called Sparky. A few moons later, she finds herself expecting the tom’s kits. The two aren’t in love, and Sparky rejects Willowpelt’s offer to join ThunderClan and help raise the kits, but it’s all very amicable and the two remain on close terms. Willowpelt is perfectly happy to raise her kits alone. She later gives birth to a single tom, Darkkit, who looks remarkably like his father. The Clan gossips a little about who the father could possibly be (Willowpelt covers her tracks visiting Twolegplace better than Featherstorm had), but overall they’re just happy to have another kit after the nursery has been empty so long, since White-eye’s last litter.

Willowpelt plans to tell Darkkit about his parentage when he’s old enough, but the young tom grows bitter after moons of some of the stricter cats whispering about his unknown parentage, and the loneliness of being the only kit in the nursery. Willowpelt always assures him that there’s nothing wrong with him and is a fiercely loving mother, but her laidback attitude about borders and rules bothers him - other warriors take these things seriously, so shouldn’t she? A kernel of doubt begins to weed its way onto Darkkit’s mind - what if Willowpelt won’t tell anyone who his father is because his father doesn’t want him? What if it was because he isn’t good enough to be this mystery tom's son? Willowpelt longs to comfort her son that his father does care and does want to be part of his life, but she’s not sure he’s old enough to understand the truth about his father, so she waits.

With all this doubt and bitterness swirling inside him, it’s no surprise that upon becoming an apprentice, Darkpaw immediately attaches himself to the first cat who seems ready to take him seriously and see some potential in him - his new mentor Tigerclaw. To Darkpaw, Tigerclaw is everything a warrior should be. He has the strength of TigerClan, the courage of LionClan, and  is the wisest, most loyal warrior in the entire Clan in the young tom’s eyes. He can’t believe his luck in snagging such a skilled and brave warrior as his mentor, and quickly learns to worship the ground Tigerclaw walks on. A secret part of his heart wonders whether Tigerclaw is his father. They both have dark tabby pelts and fur that grows darker at the points, and while Darkpaw isn’t nearly as tall and long-furred as the older tom, he’s still broader and taller than his mother, and could have inherited that from Tigerclaw. He works tirelessly to mold himself after Tigerclaw’s image and takes all of his training to heart - including his views on loyalty and cats from outside of the Clan.

Willowpelt had intended to tell Darkpaw about his father a moon or so into his training, but the longer he trained with Tigerclaw, the more disdainful he grew of cats outside of the warrior code, especially kittypets. She worries about how much the tom has changed, but he doesn’t seem willing to listen to her anymore, so there’s little she can do to curb Tigerclaw’s influence on her son. She resolved to continue hiding the truth of his father, as Darkpaw is probably happier not knowing the truth, and resolves to keep an eye on her son. It’s not all bad, she assures herself. Tigerclaw has taken the fatherless tom under his wing just as Thistleclaw had done for him, and he seems genuinely proud of his young apprentice - in his own stoic way - and is molding him into a strong warrior. As long as Darkpaw is happy, that’s what matters - right?

Though Darkpaw, then later Darkstripe definitely grows more scornful of others and more conceited over the moons, Willowpelt tries to stay optimistic. He’s a bit of a jerk, yes, but otherwise he seems like a perfectly loyal and happy warrior. But that illusion starts to chip away little by little after Tigerclaw’s exile as Darkstripe continues to show an unhealthy attachment to such a traitor, and then comes crashing down completely the day that Darkstripe tries to poison his own half sister. Unbeknownst to the rest of the Clan, Willowpelt sneaks out after Darkstripe as he’s departing the territory for his exile.

Rage and heartbreak bubble under her pelt in equal measures as she faces her eldest son. Something inside of her is wailing at the loss of the son that she’d loved, and her failure to protect him from becoming this, but the rest of her feels an icy calm. She faces Darkstripe, coldly informing him that if he’s fool enough to follow Tigerstar on his rampage against “impure” cats, then he’d better hand himself over as well for being impure. He’s the very thing that he’s always hated, the thing that he has been relentless in mocking Firestar for being - he’s half kittypet. Darkstripe flies into a rage, shrieking that it isn’t true, it can’t be true, that Willowpelt never loved him and is just lying to make him doubt himself. He tries to attack his mother, but she dances out of range, still glaring at him with icy calm while her heart continues to wail its pain inside of her. She tells him that she loved him with all of her heart, and that if he’d let go of his bitterness and his unhealthy devotion to an admitted traitor long enough he would’ve seen that, but that now it’s too late. She’ll always love him, but she will never forgive him for what he’s done to her daughter. She leaves him there on the border between ThunderClan and TigerClan. He hesitates, but only for a moment. Then he slips into TigerClan territory.

Unfortunately, Darkstripe’s reception at the TigerClan camp is chillier than expected. It was true that Tigerstar had once felt genuine pride and companionship for Darkstripe as his apprentice and as a fellow warrior. He’d always known that Darkstripe was a bit of a suck-up, but he was still strong and a powerful warrior in his own right, and Tigerstar had been proud of the efforts of his first run as a mentor. However, his opinion of Darkstripe had lessened after the tom refused to follow him into exile, and had dropped even more sharply after one of his Twolegplace allies had told him about a smoke kittypet who’d mentioned being friends with forest cats. Tigerstar had taken the chance to spy on the kittypet from a tree one day, only to be shocked at the sight of a cat nearly identical to Darkstripe.

After that, Tigerstar had put together the pieces and realized that Darkstripe was the son of a kittypet. He tells Darkstripe as much when he arrives in TigerClan, glaring down at the groveling tom with a sneer. That kittypet blood has tainted him with weakness, he claimed, weakness that had kept him from following Tigerstar into exile, that had made him fail again and again at Tigerstar’s commands as his spy, and that had made him fail at the simple task of killing one insignificant little kit. Darkstripe quivers before the tom, protesting that it couldn’t be true, though with Tigerstar’s account of the smoke kittypet, he’s starting to realize that it must be. He wails that he’d never known, that Willowpelt had hidden it from him, that she is the true traitor. He didn’t care who his father was, he whimpers - his loyalty was to Tigerstar, it had always been to Tigerstar, and it always would be.

Tigerstar watched the sniveling display with disdain. The tom was undoubtedly tainted by the weakness of his blood, but he’d always shown devotion to Tigerstar. Perhaps he could be given one last chance - but only one. He tells the tom that if he is ever to be anything but the sniveling son of a kittypet, he must prove himself willing to eradicate any disloyalty in the new Clan and pledge himself entirely loyal. He considers ordering the tom to hunt down his kittypet father and slay him, or to sneak into ThunderClan territory and kill his treacherous mother. But there are more pressing concerns facing his Clan right now, and he can’t have one of his warriors off on some lengthy mission to get one well-guarded cat alone when TigerClan is on the verge of conquering the other Clans. Such tests of his loyalty can come later. For now, perhaps a simpler task will do. He still needs someone to take care of those halfClan prisoners after all...

Of course, Darkstripe fails in that task too, and Tigerstar’s rage at yet another failure from his half-kittypet lackey is fearsome to behold. It is only the need for every fighting warrior available for the battle to come that keeps Tigerstar from punishing Darkstripe more severely. A worse fate may have awaited Darkstripe after the battle’s end, had Tigerstar not fallen under Scourge’s claws. And yet, Darkstripe continues his nearly obsessive devotion to the cat he still thinks of as his true father, even if he isn’t a father by blood, and he ends up dying in his quest to avenge the murderous tom. And yet, even a death in service to Tigerstar isn’t enough to truly raise him in the tom’s eyes, and he spends his seasons in the Dark Forest being overshadowed by a Tigerstar’s true sons, until the end of the Dark Battle leaves him to wander alone in the darkness forever.

~-~-~

Anyway, that’s my mini-essay on Darkstripe’s father and life story. XD Overall, I'm really happy with how his design turned out, and I had a lot of fun coming up with his parents' story and his story in regards to thinking of Tigerstar as his father. I also like how silhouette-wise, he looks a fair bit like Graystripe, but their patterns make them decently distinct from each other.

[harleythatcher]

☽ [ Hailee steinfeld, she/her, cis woman ] ☾ [ harley thatcher ] has lived in [ the waterhole ] for [ her whole life ] now. the [ 26 ] year old [ werewolf ] is the [ arms dealer ] for the [ hellhounds ]. but they also make an honest earning as a [ assistant manager and tattoo artist ] for [ thatcher ink and salon ]. truthfully, they remind me of [ the sound of a tattoo gun hitting skin, cigarette smoke in the distance, long dark hair cascading down your back ]. whenever it’s their turn to be the getaway driver, they blast [ pour some sugar on me by Def Leppard ] on full volume. ☼☼ ooc info; Sarah, 25, she/her, est

Trigger warning for mention of death, guns, murder

FULL NAME: Harley Rivers Thatcher-Matthews

NICKNAME: H, Har, Scarface, little ass kicker 

BIRTH DATE & AGE: 26, December 14th

PLACE OF BIRTH: Skull, Arizona 

CURRENT CITY: Skull, Arizona 

NOTICEABLE FEATURES: Long legs, large scar across her left cheek, hazel eyes, dark hair that is usually seen in a messy bun, tattoos scattered across her entire body 

TATTOOS: Too many to count

PIERCINGS: both ears, cartilage on her left ear, nippels 

CHILDREN: Dakota Thatcher

PETS: Orange tabby cat, Chezit

MINI BIO

Harley Thatcher was born to two loving, young parents - Cecelia and Ethan. They weren’t exactly very old when they became parents to her….only eighteen to be exact 

Cece let Ethan name their daughter and the first name that came to his head was Harley, her name coming from his love for bikes and being a member of the Hellhounds. Sure, it may have seemed a bit cliche, but he felt like it fit suited her

The pair wanted children but were they 100% ready to have a baby by themselves? Far from it. Her mother was cutting hair at the family salon and her dad? A pizza delivery boy and aspiring tattoo artist

Even though it was incredibly difficult, they made it work. Sure, they never have much extra money laying around so that resulted in the girl growing up in the local trailer park and wearing hand-me-downs and eating off brand food. She did not have the most lavish upbringing, but her childhood was filled with love and support from parents who adored her feisty self 

Speaking of feisty, Harley has always been one to push the envelope and not take shit from others. Sometimes that worked in her favor but other times? Not so much. 

She generally was always getting into trouble at school by her teachers and fellow peers, it would range from skipping class, back talking to authority figures, sneaking out/partying, running from the cops, and landing herself overnight in jail for the stupid things she did as a teen. 

Eventually, her actions would catch up to her at the age of seventeen. The young girl found herself getting into a nasty altercation at school with another student that turned bloody and almost deadly. Harley ended up beating up the girl so severely that she left the other person half deaf and in the hospital.

As a result, she was sent to prison (tried as an adult) for a total of three years a few hours away. It was a hard three years to get through, only being able to get visits from her parents and other family members once or twice a month due to the distance 

Her father ended up getting murdered when Harley was nineteen while out on a mission for the Hellhounds. She always knew that her dad had a dangerous job but when she heard the news, it broke her entire heart. He was her role model and best friend in the entire world and he was just...gone.

At twenty years old she was finally released from prison and made her return to her beloved town of Skull. 

Harley’s father’s death fueled her to do better and find more of a purpose with her life. She had always grown up around the Hellhounds members and basically considered them her second family. The brunette always pondered wanting to become a member, so she decided to pass on her father’s legacy and become a prospect. 

After a few years of prospecting, she moved up the ranks to become an arms dealer, just like Ethan 

When she was twenty four, she became pregnant with a guy she had been casually seeing for a few months. After breaking the news to him, he was so excited and overjoyed with the news that he proposed to her and at seven months pregnant with their daughter, she had a courthouse wedding. It was followed by a humble reception at the restaurant they had their first date at. 

Things were sweet for only so long though and when their daughter Dakota was around eight months, Harley would find out that her husband was cheating on her with another woman. That night, she bagged up all of his shit and threw it out of their trailer, telling him to go to hell and get lost. She hasn’t been in contact with him ever since. 

Right now, she is trying her best to be a single mother, member for the Hellhounds, and an assistant manager and artist at the family salon and tattoo parlor. 

FUN FACTS

Is a full blooded werewolf, both of her parents being them 

Always has had a strong love for drawing and while she was in prison, did some tattooing on the other inmates that were her friends

Has a large scar across her left cheek that she got from a homemade knife after a fight with another inmate 

Adores classic rock, having many fond memories of listening to it with her dad as a kid 

Is very much a tomboy and feels most confident with her leather jacket and her hair in a messy bun

She doesn’t know how many tattoos she has, them being all around her body. Harley has two full sleeves and her tattoos vary in size and style 

Her favorite flowers are sunflowers 

Is still technically married, she never filed for divorce from her husband despite them being estranged

Thatcher Salon was merged into Thatcher Salon and Ink after her parents saved up enough to build onto the building to add a room for tattooing. Harley filled in as one of the main artists / managers after her father’s passing. 

Full Biography coming soon.

[jace-todd]

Slack

@oh-faithful-inner-demons this is totally not about the headcanon you posted a little bit ago, pssh totally not but uhh enjoy anyway~ I tried to use some of your headcanons in this too!! Sorry if it's not that good- I decided to go with the first part of the headcanon, becoming slack in a hug to focus on Aizawa and Hitoshi's relationship as Father-Son but I'm still open to writing a second piece-

Word count: 2,069

You can read it online right here on my Archive

warning for bullying, jumping (as in bullies cornering a student after school hours to beat on them, i'm sorry hitoshi), neglectful parents, abandonment

There were only two people in the whole world who knew how weak Hitoshi was for affection. Affection was never something Hitoshi got a lot of when he was growing up. His parents were firm believers that vulnerability would only aid in you getting soft and getting yourself killed out there in ‘the real world.’ When he was four, not long after his quick manifested, all of the early affection he received to keep childhood development on path disappeared altogether. Maybe every now and then, his mother would ruffle his hair when she’d finish a long shift at the hospital - too tired to even remember her hatred.

At school, without friends, Hitoshi didn’t get to experience friendly hugs. He didn’t have that one friend who’d practically vibrate in their seat when he’d enter the room in the morning, calling out his name with greetings and asking all about his previous afternoon. That one friend didn’t exist so they never pulled him close in between classes, an arm thrown over his shoulders, talking loudly in his ears to combat Hitoshi’s natural silence. That one friend who understood that Hitoshi didn’t feel comfortable talking - not with his quirk as villainous as it was, not with his quirk putting up the risk it did merely by interacting with anyone. That one friend who’d sit next to him at lunch, against a tree, their entire body shoved against his side - completely foreign to something called personal space.

What he got instead were people leaving the seats around HItoshi empty every year, too afraid to go near the kid with the villainous quirk and the absent parents and the snarky personality. They whispered behind his back rumors about how he was the one that leaked the test results two weeks ago, he was the one that made Miyuki punch Kako in the fact yesterday after she hung out with him. The only kind of company and touch Hitoshi received were pushes in the hallways and jumpings behind school. Instead of hair ruffles Hitoshi’s hair would be held tight in a fist to maneuver back to punch him in the face. Instead of hands holding his, feet ground against them until he broke his promise to not show signs of weakness. Instead of hugs, arms kept him from slumping to the ground hit after hit landed.

After a while, Hitoshi stopped expecting to get affection from anyone. It became easier to expect the worst, assume that anyone who got close only wanted to hurt him. Unfortunately, it made Hitoshi’s life easier - knowing the world already wanted to hurt him prepared him for the worst. It prepared him for when his parents up and left two weeks before he started UA - no real explanation, just a final argument between him and his father that ended with Hitoshi silently heading to his room and hiding. When he came out for his work-out the next morning, their rooms were empty and money was left on the counter.

Life really became lonely after that. School was awkward and quiet - coming home to an empty house made it seem even worse. At least when his parents were still around, one of them would be home by the time he got back from school. They wouldn’t greet him but at least Hitoshi knew someone was there. Now though, there were no one to glance in his direction, to eat dinner with, to awkwardly stare at when they found each other in the middle of the night doing their own thing. He had the entire place to himself.

Then Eraser-head started mentoring him. After the Sports festival, being pulled aside during homeroom to talk to his favorite hero had felt like a fever dream. The minute he walked away, Hitoshi pinched his arm three times just to be completely sure that it wasn’t. Starting up training had been learning where Hitoshi’s boundaries were, being taught how to use Aizawa’s - Aizawa, Hitoshi gets to call his favorite hero by his name - original capture device, and figuring out their own dynamic. Every minute kept Hitoshi on his toes, exhausted with lack of sleep and too much working out, but more energetic and happy than he’d been in years.

Their interactions started out as just mentor-mentee. Aizawa was trying Hitoshi to get into the hero course, to get enough strength and control to impress the Board, Hitoshi was learning everything he could from his idol. It was strictly business. And then Aizawa broke first, offering Hitoshi a trip to get some food and water down at a cat cafe, not even two blocks from the school. Hitoshi had flushed, unused to any sort of attention from the hero outside of these training sessions. He had agreed without thinking too much and for the next two hours, Hitoshi found himself pouring out more information about himself than he’d told anyone in his entire life.

Two days later, Hitoshi perfected one of the hardest maneuvers to learn after only a month. Aizawa had given him that weird smiling-but-not-smiling thing of his and reached out. He initially flinched away, expecting the worst but the hand just slowed down. A moment later, it dropped onto his head and ruffled his hair. Hitoshi did not tear up. He didn’t, really. If there was one lesson his father taught him that stuck was that crying meant vulnerability and weakness. However, Hitoshi did feel lightheaded at the sudden affection.

Aizawa ever-observant kept it on his head a moment or two too long before letting go, nodding in the direction of their jungle gym, telling him to get going.

The next couple of months passed pretty much the same. Slowly, Aizawa integrated casual affections into their interactions. Whenever Hitoshi did something well, Aizawa ruffled his hair. When Hitoshi smiled, Aizawa gave it back. Eventually, when Hitoshi started to open up, Aizawa did the same - it was a sign of trust. They were going good - Aizawa and Hitoshi had what he was slightly afraid to call a father-son dynamic, Hitoshi was already admitted into the hero course, Aizawa was getting through physical therapy steadily and surely.

And then Aizawa came into their usual weekend breaks to the cat cafe with a manilla folder. Hitoshi was pressed against the back of the cat cafe, sipping at the strong coffee he had ordered when he arrived, stroking the back of the tabby on his lap, reading the latest comic he got his hands on. When the little ding of the door closing rang out, he lifted his head out of the pages to see who it was. Aizawa lifted a hand in greeting, heading straight to him rather than get his usual strong coffee and retrieval of his favorite cat.

Immediately, Hitoshi felt a pit rise in his stomach. This was it, this was where Aizawa decided Hitoshi wasn’t fit to be in the hero’s life anymore, wasn’t fit to be a hero, that he had come to his senses and Hitoshi would be nothing more than a low-life villain. He stuffed the comic back into his bookbag, careful with it despite the way his hands were starting to shake and he was getting light-headed. “Aizawa-Sensei? Is everything okay?”

Aizawa slid into the seat across from him, “Everything’s fine, Hitoshi. Take a deep breath for me, okay?” He didn’t want to take a deep breath. What he wanted was for Aizawa to just rip the bandage off so he could leave. One of Aizawa’s hands disappeared from view for a moment before coming back with one of the fidget toys he kept around for his kids. In a sign of peace, he put it in the middle of the table and Hitoshi took it, swiftly working it over with practiced ease.

It worked well to calm him down enough to hear what Aizawa wanted to tell him. “What’s in the folder, Sensei?”

The teacher flipped it around so that it was facing Hitoshi before opening it. “See for yourself, kid.” Staring back at Hitoshi in big bold letters were the words ‘Report of Adoption.’ The world stopped as Hitoshi read through it all. His biological parents had been contacted and had signed over custody already, Aizawa and Yamada’s information were nearly completely filled out except for the very last signature, which left only Hitosh’s section empty.

“Are...Are you serious?” He couldn’t look away from the papers, going through them over and over again just to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Surely, there was his mother’s signature and then his father’s. On the other page, neat Shouta Aizawa stood above Hizashi Yamada.

Aizawa nodded, “I’m completely serious. It’s only logical considering your living arrangements and the multitude of arising issues as you enter the hero course next year. Hitoshi, you deserve to have someone who cares about you and whether you make it home safely or not. Hizashi and I have already spoken it over and we’ve contacted our lawyers. Before we continue anything else, I needed to tell you. Do you consent to being adopted by Hizashi and I?”

Did he consent? Did he consent to being taken in by the hero that kept Hitoshi going his entire childhood? Did he consent from having to leave the one place that was always home to him to move to a brand new location, a brand new layout, a brand new family? Everything between them would change again. He would have to readjust, find himself and where their limits were - surely, they would have rules and strict No’s for him. Maybe they’d regret adopting him not even a week into their legal adoption and then it’d all be for nothing. Maybe Eri would fear him and he’d leave. Not that he’d mind it. Eri and her had interacted plenty of times but he knew he made the little girl uncomfortable.

But Hitoshi wanted it. He wanted it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire life. Hitoshi wanted to wake up to Hizashi’s singing in the mirrors as he cooked breakfast. He wanted to wake up to his own cat pressed against his side. He wanted to step out of his room in the morning, dressed for the hero course, and see Eri leaving her own room, smiling up at him while he smiled down. He wanted to be able to walk home with Aizawa after training rather than have to go separate ways every day. Above all else, Hitoshi just wanted to be loved.

“I- I consent.” Aizawa’s smile was toothy and a little lopsided but Hitoshi didn’t really see it past his own tears. He hadn’t cried since he was six and had scraped his knee badly enough to need a hospital trip. This was the biggest thing in his life, the biggest change surpassing the hero course with ease.

The cat had already scurried off, leaving Hitoshi’s hands and lap free once he dropped the fidget toy. He stood up, rounding to Aizawa’s side. The hero stood up as well, and Aizawa reached a hand out to ruffle his hair no doubt. No more did Hitoshi flinch but he didn’t let the hand reach him. Instead, Hitoshi threw himself forward, wrapping his arms tight around Aizawa’s shoulders, tucking his head in the crook of his arm and Aizawa’s neck. Aizawa returned the hug, holding on even tighter than Hitoshi was, one hand on his back and the other curled around purple hair.

He let the emotions and relief finally escape him, completely silent sobs racking his body as he went limp, letting the hero hold his weight for him. Aizawa grunted, planting his feet more strategically before shushing him, “I’ve got you, Hitoshi, you’re safe, you’re okay.”

Aizawa didn’t budge under Hitoshi’s weight - even if the teen was nearly as tall and as heavy as the hero was, steadily starting to surpass him even. For nearly five minutes they stood there, Aizawa supporting both their weights, talking softly to Hitoshi the entire time, telling him to let it out, that he would be there and so would Hizashi no matter what Hitoshi needed. Unfortunately, Aizawa’s straining muscles eventually caused them to both slide to the floor, still gripping each other tight, Hitoshi slack in his arms.

They didn’t need to move anytime soon so Aizawa let the kid remain there. After all, it was about damn time Hitoshi got some well-earned affection.

[scaryscarecrows]

Beggar, Pick Up Your Crown

AN: Title from Jerry Cantrell’s ‘Siddhartha’. Takes place the day after ‘Out of Hell’.

Happy birthday, Jason!

* * * 

Jason wakes from the...he’s thinking the third-best nights’ sleep he’s had in his whole life. First one was...pfft, one’a those random nights, Mom had been feeling okay, and they’d stayed up to see the sunrise and made s’mores on the stove. Second had been after his first. His. Patrol. First patrol.

He has no idea what time it is, and he’s afraid to open his eyes, lest last night turn out to be a dream. He stays still for the moment, concentrating on the cheap hotel mattress under his still-aching body, the smell of complimentary soap and cleaner and that lingering people have been born, had sex, and probably died in this room smell that these sorts of places have. He can hear rain and traffic and general Gotham Living outside and in the rooms around him.

And he’s hungry.

Okay. Okay. He’s woken up out of nice dreams before, and it hurts, but. But he can do it again. One more time.

Please…

He cracks his eyes open.

The room is beige and...rusty orange...and very bright. Well, bright to him, anyway. It’s empty, but he rolls over and, muscles protesting the whole time, peers under the bed. Zilch.

Still unconvinced he’s not hallucinating or unwillingly playing one of the clown’s head games, Jason stumbles out of the warm bed, ankle cracking horribly when he makes it take his weight, and shuffles to the bathroom. Nothing. Nothing in the shower, or wedged into the little cabinet under the sink. He’s alone here.

He lets his breath out slowly, slumping forward against the sink to take some of the pressure off his ankle. He’ll have to look at it later, look at everything later, but...but not now. Not this second, huh?

His hair’s too long; his bangs are in his eyes and he can feel dead ends scraping the back of his neck. No way in hell is he letting anyone near him with scissors. That’s okay. He did self-trims when he was a kid.

He’s out.

He’s out, he’s free of that monster. That bastard’s never going to hurt him ever again. The thought makes him lightheaded, brings an unfamiliar twist to his lips that feels like it might be a smile.

And then he makes the mistake of looking up at the mirror.

The boy-no, he’s not a boy anymore, is he-looking back at him looks dead. He’s pasty white, thin and hollow-cheeked with no spark to his eyes. There’s cuts and gashes all over his face, his nose is crooked, and...and there’s that. The brand on his face, the one that still hurts, the one that screams to the world, PROPERTY OF THE JOKER, IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN!

I’ll never get away from him.

The mirror shatters under his fist, shards jabbing in between his knuckles and falling into the sink and bouncing off the counter to hit the tiles by his feet. He doesn’t care. He can’t face this he can’t face this he can’t--

This is too much for his ankle; it buckles and then he’s kneeling in the glass, sobbing so hard it’s silent and hurts his throat and chest. He chokes, doubles over so’s his forehead’s pressed against his knees, bites down on his lips to try and...and…

Willis always said, ‘boys don’t cry’. Bruce hadn’t...he’d never known what to do with tears. Or any outpouring of emotion, for that matter. And Joker had loved them. But Jason? Right now, he doesn’t care about any of that. He wants Mom, but Mom can’t be here anymore.

It takes him several minutes to register that the tears have stopped and that he’s just...huddled here on the floor with glass jutting out of his skin. The glass doesn’t hurt, but his ankle does and he slowly and carefully brings it up to investigate.

It’s swollen and hot to the touch and it...something about it doesn’t look quite right. He’ll wrap it, he decides, he’ll get a compression bandage or something later today. Okay. He’s okay. He’s just gotta breathe, get up, clean this mess up because he was raised better than to leave this shit for the housekeeper, and then...if he is where he thinks he is, there’s a bodega two blocks south, one that has a gray tabby that lounges in the window. They’ll have a thing of chips or something he can choke down (safely), maybe bandages. Definitely a hoodie, at least, a nice touristy hoodie.

He can make it two blocks. Like he’s got a choice, but he can make it two blocks.

* * *

The smell of rotting watermelons, cheap ice cream bars, and packaged bread is possibly one of the best things Jason’s ever smelled in his life. He’s starving, and now, confronted with food choices, he knows he’s gonna have to exercise some restraint and not just devour a stale baguette in the middle of the store. Crackers. And maybe a soup-cup-thing, that’s mild. And, uh, cranberry juice, yeah, that’s sorta healthy. And a Reese’s. If the Reese’s makes him sick, it’ll be worth it.

The owner is dancing lightly to the mariachi on the radio and the cat is more interested in the birds outside than in him, which means he can limp through the store on his own sweet time. They do have bandages, and the food he thinks he can do, and a red hoodie* proclaiming, I Survived Gotham. It’ll do.

What’s worrying him-apart from, you know, everything else-is where he found money last night. He doesn’t remember a damn thing after leaving Arkham, and it scares him. Mystery for later, though, because he’s hungry and grateful he doesn’t have to rob the bodega man, who-miracle of miracles-doesn’t so much as look up at him. He pulls the hoodie on the second he’s outside, though, tugs the hood up to try and cover the damn thing at least a little.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He can’t go back to him-he’ll die first-and he can’t...s’like they say, you can never go home again. If Wayne Manor was ever home. 

Left me he left me with him he said he’d always be there and he fucking left me with that bastard--

He just doesn’t know what to do.

He stumbles back into the hotel room, debates on whether or not he wants to use the grody microwave provided, and decides that yes, yes he does. This will be the first real food he’s had in over a year and he wants to try and enjoy it, if that’s possible.

Man, he hasn’t had one of these in...geeze, since before Mom died. They’re not Old Money Approved, after all. Good. He’s not Old Money Approved, either.

It’s done, he decides, when it pops and the lid gets all soft and hot. It smells okay. Safe, anyway, no hint of Joker venom or any other little surprises. The steam curls around his face, making the...the burn a little tender, but it’s fine. It’s fine. He bought it all sealed up and he’s the only one who’s touched it. He took off the safety tin.

So why can’t he eat it? His appetite’s vanished, even though he knows he needs to eat, it’s just…

You gotta eat, baby.

That sounds like Mom, and it should be concerning, but...he does need to eat. And he can’t just chug it, either, much as he’d like to get it over with. He’s gotta be slow and careful.

Cracker! He’ll dip a cracker in.

The soup’s hot and salty on his tongue, miles above the slop he’s been eating in the asylum. Once he swallows the slightly soggy cracker, his appetite returns with a vengeance and it’s an effort not to pour half the column of crackers in, smash them to bits with the spoon, and eat the resulting mush here and now. But he can’t. He’ll be sick. Hell, he might be sick anyway, who knows.

He dunks another cracker in, catches a wispy noodle on it this time. Jesus. Jesus Christ, this is it, he’s living on soup and crackers forever, this is the best thing he’s eaten in his life--

--no. No it isn’t, is it. Alfred. Alfred made…

Not now. Just eat.

That’s right. He can’t think about anything, that’s not...he’s spent a long time, trapped in his own head. Not now. He can’t do that now. Food first.

The soup goes down easily enough, the cran juice a little less so but it stays in, and then he has to admit that yup, time for some self-examination.

He’s not facing the mirror-or what’s left of it-again. It’s better to stay here, to strip off despite knowing that hotel beds are scuzzy, and, well, survey the damage. And there is a lot of damage. Burn scars, wire scars, marks he can’t even begin to trace. He doesn’t really want to know what his back looks like, but he’ll have to find out.

Further poking the ankle says that oh, sure, it’s...healing, or maybe as good as it’s gonna get, but that squeezing certain spots of it makes his vision go white and over-manipulating it is worse than that. He puts the bandage on it, because what else can he do, and struggles back into his clothes. No more. He can’t do more right now.

* * *

Jason does not mean to fall into a fitful sleep, but that’s what happens. He wakes up gasping and soaked in sweat, a man’s shouting echoing in his ears. Sounds like Willis.

After a minute of lying here, he comes to realize that it isn’t Willis, and it isn’t a dream. It’s...lobby, something’s going on in the lobby.

Shit.

It’s hard to move as steathily as he used to, but he’s still quieter than the average schmuck when he slips out of bed and opens the door to creep down the hall. It’s late, which means the clerk should be alone, which makes them easy pickings. People never change, much as Batman insists that they do.

The shouting man has a gun. He’s wearing a scarf around the lower half of his face and he’s actually kinda big. Looks plenty comfortable threatening a woman half his size.

He doesn’t think, just moves; grabs one of the little chairs near the doors and hurls it

Owowowow not good movement not good

at the man’s back. He trips, gun falling from his fingers and sliding under the desk. The woman, wisely, ducks.

“What the fuck--oh, we got us a Batman-wannabe.” The guy cracks his back. “Come on, then, hero.”

He’s out of practice. Doesn’t mean he’s helpless. He dodges the oncoming haymaker and retaliates by going straight for the jugular.

Or, in this case, the balls. Fighting fair does not get you far in life.

The bravado vanishes. It’s hard to be badass when you’re shrieking like a little girl with your testicles twisted in a fist. Jason lets go, headbutts him to get him down, and steps around him to fish the gun out from under the desk.

“Get the hell out of here,” he says, more out of breath than he should be after that. His shoulders hurt from the throw. That can’t be good. “Or pray to God Batman shows up to save you in the next thirty seconds.”

“You son of a bitch--”

“Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven--”

“I’ll kill you!”

He cocks the gun. Little awkwardly, it’s true-Bruce taught him the absolute bare minimum of gun handling-but it gets his point across.

“Twenty-six. Twenty-five.”

The man can’t quite get upright, but he manages to hobble outside. Jason doesn’t chase after him. He’s shaking, a little, and the gun’s awkward in his hand.

“Thank you.” Oh. Yeah. He forgot about her. “I don’t know--he wanted money, I guess--”

“Don’t they all.” He doesn’t turn around. He can’t; he’s way too identifiable. “You’re welcome.” Back to his room it is, to get his crap and clear out. “I’m gonna check out before the cops show.”

“I’m not calling them.” Huh. “They never come. That’s the third time in two months we’ve had someone in here.”

Figures.

He doesn’t answer-what do you say, huh?-, just shuffles back to his room. He doesn’t realize, until the door’s locked behind him, that he’s still got the gun.

Well, he figures, as he stumbles back towards the bed, at least if Joker manages to track him here, he won’t have to go back. He’ll kill the clown or himself, it doesn’t matter which, but he’s not going back.

He crawls under the blankets this time, tries to get a little more comfortable. It must work, because in five minutes, he’s out. Nothing wakes him this time.

THE END

*Arkham!Jason has a fondness for red hoodies even pre-Red Hood; both baby Jay and grown-up Jay are shown wearing one in the prequels. For obvious reasons. :p

[brooklynislandgirl]

47. “Is this what being poisoned feels like?” (from Larry)

Fall Into You || Accepting

"Yeah, well...not'ing like how it gonna feel when I shove one of dese size fours right up ya okole, Lar!" When Beth snaps back for a moment, glaring at the person behind her who has only just now set her on her feet. Her tone belies the flood of relief that courses through her veins and partially mitigates the pounding remnants of her migraine. Which she imagines is the result of whatever his goon put in her water. And that had to have happened when she'd poured herself into the back of the car at the end of her night or just before. Her normal twelve hour shift had become fourteen when the other nurse coming onto the ward had been two hours late thanks to the trains struggling to keep schedule. With Andy out of town ~Tabby in tow to some secret thing~ and Jay having accompanied her mother Donna to Chicago, Beth's options had been limited. She should have gone with a cab in hindsight. However, she'd been exhausted and hungry and therefore decided to take the rare luxury of the car service. She thought nothing of it when the black SUV pulled up with windows so darkly tinted that nothing short of a trip to the heart of the sun would allow the dimmest passage of light. She'd slipped into the buttery-soft leather seat. asked for a bottle of water. Receiving it and taking a long sip, she'd given the addresses to both her apartment and the O'Tooley's a handful of blocks away from it. She had wanted one of their double Inconceivable burgers with cheese and the largest saltiest greasy side of fries she could get her hands on before going home and hibernating for a month. Beth remembers closing her eyes for just a second.... ...And when she opened them again? She found herself being bridal-carried while inside an elevator by a man the size of a small mountain range. A quick scan of his genetics through shifted perceptions told her that despite the looks and the cheap suit he wore that this man was not a HITmark. A second later she regrets all of her life choices as a shrieking stab of pain lances through her brain. She tries to ward it off with another tug of her own thread in the Tapestry only to feel more agony. This one intense enough to draw a mewl of sound from her. "I wouldn't continue to do that, Miss Riley," the Mountain Range said. "My employer is a very cautious man." Icy fear provoked her into obedience as she tried to imagine who wanted to kidnap her, who had the resources to do so with impunity, and worse, had some way to invalidate her magick. Fortunately, the answer is now staring her in the face, quite literally. He is surrounded by a designer suit, dark woods, and an incredibly sumptuous penthouse that, if not for the current circumstances, would have taken her breath away with its ambient beauty. Instead, it turns fear to outrage. Outrage that transforms into sharp, bitter concern when she gets a good look at Lawrence Lynch. The man was perhaps the single whitest haole she's ever seen in person. If not for the piercing blue eyes that she's only ever seen in Huskies, she might have wondered if he had a touch of albinism. Blond hair this side of angels' wing white, the stereotype Irish pallor. Tall, and broad through the chest ~something she's absolutely sure has more to do with his impeccable posture than sheer muscle mass, she has to admit he's typically stunning. Especially when a hint of cruelty ices his gaze or curves his lips. He doesn't look that way now. His eyes are fever-bright and there's even less colour to him. If Glaciers could sweat she's sure he'd be doing that right now. He isn't. She jerks her shoulder out of the Mountain Range's grasp and makes the small march until she's standing toe-to-leather Oxford-toe with him and she can't help but reach out and press her wrist to his brow. No heat radiates. If anything he's colder than he ought to be. For him she risks another jolt of pain, which comes on the heel of her scanning him the way she had the goon and pairing it with a wince, courting paradox by not doing anything physical to make her exam seem coincidental. For a moment though

there's a flash of colour other than green and honey taking him in. Her brows furrow and she tilts her head to the side, lips pursing in confusion. A stunted little breath that can almost be heard as she exhales. At a loss, she reverts to the Old Ways. The hand so lately inclined to grace his brow is brought around to the back of his neck, fingers cupping him with a surprising amount of strength from one so physically smaller than he is. As she rises up on tip toes like a wave, she pulls him down until she's nose to nose with him, brow to brow. Eyes closed now, Beth breathes him in. His breath. His spirit. His own sacred mana. That is when it happens. Almost before her soft, warm, cinnamon breath can waft over him her eyes shoot open, wide and fearful. Her mouth works silently, open and closing as she lets go and backs very quickly away from him. Her teeth, always a little small and too sharp and in need of a good orthodontist, grow unmistakably pointed. There's more than should comfortably fit in her mouth as she bears something that resembles a snarl. One that appears to be completely accidental as she lifts her hands to cover them. Hands that are a little greyish in hue and don't look as satiny as they often do. The appearance of tiny micro-scales fan out from her knuckles, her wrist bones. Her voice trembles with a mixture of fear and something akin to disgust. "Oh, Larry...wha....what did you do?!"

[vake-hunter]

Light Fingers Lore Post

Moon-Misers

Normal Moon-Milk is a poison they use to make their prey walk right into their mouth. It’s not meant to last for long.

Babies are rare, only born about once a decade! “A Moon-Miser can only be born when the stars align. It must also be coaxed from the womb with a Song of Birthing.” Once born it must be fed special nectar extracted from stalactites. Who knows what that’s made of! “At birth, Moon-Misers are wrapped in their mother's silk, forming a protective membrane while their carapaces develop.”

Here, have some NEAT Red Science quotes: “You are forging a new link of a great chain. This is the most impossible and unforgiving of occasions: the creation of something new. In this tent, you usher a brand new species from the vaults of possibility. You are spitting in the face of the gods. You are violating laws written in starlight before the world began.”

This is VERY important Lore: the baby has your eyes.

(If Baby is more human) As the zeppelin ascends, the Hybrid raises its voice in solemn song. As you listen, a thrill runs down your spine. For a moment, swept up in the song, you experience a vision: in your mind's eye, a blazing-bright king unites the tribes of the Starved Men under one banner, and harnesses the Moon-Misers as steeds. He leads his subjects on a crusade against the city below - a city that is no longer London, but that still harbours the Moon-King's greatest nemesis, now much embittered at the failure of its schemes. The resulting war will prove its final undoing.

Mr Fires

Is trying to bankrupt the Bazaar in a way. 

If it makes a bunch of fake love stories, that can trick Wines and Spices and the Bazaar, eventually the Bazaar won’t know what love is real and what isn’t, thus, hopefully, discouraging the Bazaar and the other Masters. 

“A bitter edge creeps into its sibilant voice. "Once a suitable love story is found, it’ll be the end of London. Can you imagine?" The lamp trembles in its hand. Its voice rises an octave. "The end of London! I couldn't bear it! I love this city. It's my sole comfort, the greatest joy I have discovered in all my centuries. I'd do anything to preserve it."

“In the longer term, the Hybrid's milk is the only thing that can save the city. Once seeded across the populace, all love stories will be rendered suspect. Any love, no matter how pure or moving, could simply be the symptoms of an aberration's venom. Love will be robbed of its allure. The Bazaar will not know which stories it can truly believe in."

"If my plan succeeds, the other Masters will abandon London as a failed venture." Mr Fires holds up its lamp; here at the bottom, the shelves are lined with leather-bound volumes. "They shall depart, and I shall make arrangements to preserve the city."

It is very defensive of what it did at the Orphanage, in a way that almost makes it sound like it's guilty. It does insist it would do it again, and it doesn’t care about the people, just London as a city. 

Confirmation Fires likes science. 

More evidence Masters can shapeshift to change their sizes and when they are upset, they have trouble staying small. 

Its very fucking excited to burn things down and upset Wines. 

(Giving the baby to Fires) "One day, London will be a city glutted with love," says Mr Fires, returning its gaze to the Hybrid. "Or at least, reliably-replicable facsimiles of it. The effect will be subtle. A modest adjustment, year on year. Wines won't suspect a thing until it is too late." It glances at you. "You and I, [Addressed As], have saved London today."

Boil of Calamities

Possibly the first Fingerking or at least a very very old and strong one.

Seven Heads like the statue at Irem. 

The Sun and the Spire that connects it are sacred places to the Fingerkings and the Boil protects them. “They may allow your kind to trespass across the rest of their kingdom, you slumbering oafs, you mortal morsels, but not here, not the hallowed spire. Insolence! Blasphemy!”

Huge coils that appear in the sky. Black scales, a knot of snakes or just one massive one. Like storm clouds with huge fangs. Tongues flicker like lightning.

It once took tributes and accepted people as servants but the the door to its Chamber seems long abandoned. 

The Chamber is found in the shadow of the Dome of Scales. “Inside is a cavern that smells faintly of spices: cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamon. Heavy silk banners hang from the walls, depicting battles between cats and serpents. Seven braziers burn merrily with viric fire. Plates of delicious-looking food have been set out: pomegranates, bloody steak, bunches of plump indigo grapes. At the centre sits a majestic basalt altar, carved with dozens of runes and symbols, a silver bowl waiting atop.”

If you make a Pact with the Boil, you must shed your skin. Don’t worry, there’s more skin under there. Better skin, you’re told. You peel yourself with a Ravenglass knife and it uses the same wording as in my Kingdom for A Pig and the Third City Deal :) 

“There is indeed new skin underneath. It is tender and dry, with the faintest silver sheen. The effect is subtle. Only a lover or a doctor would notice.”

“You look up to the Boil, your skin flashing silver, and bow deeply. The overbearing tangle of coils slips apart, separating, loosening. You find yourself breathing more easily.”

Court of Cats

The Duchess is capable of calling a meeting with the Court. 

They slew the seven daughters of the Boil. 

They have a spear made from a Fingerking’s fang that is capable of piercing the Skin of the Sun. However only cats are allowed to wield it. So if you want it you must become an Honorary Cat.

“The Lord High Seneschal pronounces you the 'Lyon Pursuivant of Arms Extraordinary,' officially a cat, and thus entitled to take possession of one of the cats' greatest trophies.”

“As they fall quiet, you ask why they have never wielded this spear against their enemies in the past? "Because cats do not have thumbs," says the Knight Marshall, with a haughty look.”

“Hephaesta draws back her Herculean arm and hurls the spear of the Sleeping King, putting every hard-wrung ounce of her strength behind the throw. It flies, like a shell from a cannon, cracking the Skin of the Sun and sinking a foot deep. At the point of impact, the glass buckles and twists and shrieks. Hephaesta and the tiger roar in triumph.”

“A great, hollow crack rings across Parabola. A shadow mars the cosmogone sunlight passes over the sun.”

Parabolan Sun (Not strictly Lore just from Light Fingers but Important)

Parabola was not always bright. It seemed to be in perpetual twilight before the Second City Sisters rose the Sun. 

“This is a place that is not. It was not always light, though once it was brighter. The sisters found it in twilight and in dreams. The night was thus sacred to the Second City. They would not be pursued here. The ushabti were created to help in the construction of the Palace. The Second City could have lived here forever.”

This also seems to imply there was no moon either, as the moon is a cat. It probably came with the Second City as well. "Look, there are patterns there, just like the surface's moon. Only... these don't resemble a man, or anything else so much as a cat, curled up asleep."

The Sisters of the Pharaoh (minus the Duchess) fled to Parabola when the Third City fell to avoid being killed. “We four survivors fled. One remained with the City, while I retreated here.”

"The Palace of the Rising was to be a refuge from the Masters and the Bazaar. A new sun was raised in the sky so the citizens might walk in light again.”

The thing is. The Sun was built with the help of what appears to be the God of the Fingerkings. "the Boil of Calamities, Lord of the Seething Sky, wept a drop of shining glass..."

The Boil protects the Sun and the Cats hate the Fingerkings. It seems the Four Sisters betrayed the Cats and their other sister, the Duchess, in order to make the Sun. "It also is the mother-father of the egg that is the Parabolan sun," adds a dark-faced tabby. Its reflection is that of a snarling puma. "Though others played a part in that, too." The Duchess' lips tighten.”

Physically: A huge glass dome held to the land by a stone pillar. Even the sky around the dome appears to be glass. (Interesting given how the Second City imprisoned the Masters was to cover the Neath in glass. From The Mind Of A Long Dead God: “Glass Walls Everywhere! They surround me. They reflect one realm inwards and keep me from the other. These barriers should be fluid!” Note that the Neath IS Storm’s corpse.)

NORTH

Rubbery Men plan to fly north. “They take off again in an instant, heading North, waving you farewell. Where do they ultimately hope to go? Again, it's impossible to tell. Perhaps they hope to find their way home.”

If baby is more Moon-Miser: As the zeppelin ascends, the Hybrid raises its voice in solemn song. A thrill runs down your spine. For a moment, swept up by the song, you experience a vision: a blazing-bright king of Moon-Misers leading its glimmering subjects on a pilgrimage across the roof and through a door far to the North. Below, in a city that is not London, the citizens point and murmur in fear as their false-stars crawl into the distance and blink out one by one, leaving only darkness behind.

Item Rewards

Lyon Pursuivant of Arms Extraordinary: For the purposes of having legal custody of a famous war trophy, you have been made an honorary cat, with the associated title, privileges, and dignities. [Affiliation; Shadowy +3, Persuasive +6, Dangerous +2, Respectable +1]

Tatterskin Shawl: Once, you offending the Boil of Calamities. To make amends you offered up your own skin as a gift. The Boil was thoughtful enough to return your old skin to you, though it no longer fits as snugly as it once did. [Clothing; Shadowy +6, Persuasive -2, Dreaded +1, Bizarre +1, Mithridacy +1]

A Loyal Nightmare of Poor Edward: You married what remained of Poor Edward. Now he is a nightmare, bound by the miser-milk to the dreams of the Orphanage. Sometimes, you visit him there. [Affiliation; Shadowy +2, Persuasive +1, Dreaded +1]

A Kitten-Sized Diamond, Liberated from the Mountain: It was torn from the Mountain that looms on the Elder Continent. If set near wounds, they heal. If left in one place for too long, flowers bloom around it. If left near lesser diamonds, they will hatch. [Home Comfort; Persuasive +10, Respectable +2, Artisan of the Red Science +1]

A False-Star of your Own: Above London, false-stars shine. One is your bastard child, a Hybrid, a diamond the size of a cow. It is a hundred times brighter than its fellows, a blazing pinpoint; every month or two, for just a few days, it passes directly over the city. For that brief period, London's gloom eases into a velvety twilight. (In addition to the stat advantages, this Companion allows you a unique opportunity while zailing.) [Companion; Watchful +6, Shadowy +12, Shapeling Arts +1, Bizarre +2]

[genotaurus-inactive]

Warrior Cats AU: Medicine Cat Bramblelight (Part 4)

Okay, by now the title probably barely fits since I’m rewriting a lot more characters and arcs and switching some events up, but hell, I’m keeping it for consistency.

So, last time I hinted Leafpool and Bramblelight were getting close, and who could blame them. They did spend a lot of time together as medicine cats, and Cinderpelt didn’t seem to mind as long as they didn’t neglect their duties, and nobody would suspect them to be a couple, right? Though one night, Leafpool notices they’ve taken it too far. She searches for her sister the next day and explains to Squirrelflight how ... That’s right, she is pregnant with our three little super powered prophecy machines, and this means panic! Squirrelflight helps her to keep it hid for the time being, but you really think Bramblelight, Leafpool’s mate and long time medicine cat wouldn’t notice something was wrong?

So, he confronts Leafpool about avoiding him, and she admits to being pregnant, something he doesn’t know how to respond to. He is happy about it, but simultaneously, what were they going to tell the clan? While they ponder, Squirrelflight comes up with an idea.

You see, this Squirrelflight didn’t stay single in this rewrite just because Brambleclaw doesn’t exist, oh no, we all know there is a number two.

Ashfur.

Squirrelflight is happily together with him, since in this rewrite, there is no big fight between her and Brambleclaw, no betrayal of Ashfur’s feelings and him becoming a “misunderstood darling who only loved too much” aka a psychopath (Sadly, the fire scene won’t be started by him, letting his blonde hair flow, not in this rewrite).

So, Squirrelflight proposes to take in Leafpool’s kits after they’re born and pretend that they are hers and Ashfur’s, something she would gladly do since the two of them have been incapable of getting kits of their own for some reason (anyone remember the Squirrelflight being barren fact that was written to be a lie? Not in this AU) which the two medicine cats agree to under one condition.

Ashfur has to know about this as well because Ashfur isn’t an idiot (few cats are in this rewrite) and knows for a fact that Squirrelflight isn’t pregnant. So, they get him in on the secret and while very hesitant about it, he can’t just leave both his mate and sister-in-law hanging like that and agrees.

Time goes by and Leafpool is close to getting her kits, but they need a safe and hidden place for her to get them. So, for one day Bramblelight, Leafpool and Squirrelflight disappear out of the Thunderclan territory to keep it a secret, with Ashfur covering for them back at camp.

And first it goes great! Leafpool gets her kits (Jaykit, Hollykit and Lionkit respectively) and Bramblelight is happy beyond believe. It hurts the two parents to give their kits to Squirrelflight, as it would mean they would never be allowed to tell them who their real parents are, but melancholy feelings don’t last long as they are found by Midnight the badger, telling them about the attack on their territory.

They rush back, keeping the kits safe and fending off the badgers as best as they can, but Cinderpelt dies in the fight. Leafpool and Bramblelight are hard broken about it, but Firestar also confronts them about where they had been. Keeping in line with their lie, Squirrelflight reveals the three kits and explains how she didn’t want to be confided in the nursery while pregnant and how only Leafpool, Bramblelight and Ashfur knew about.

Firestar gives into his soft spot, seeing his new grandchildren and how none of them could have known that there would be a badger attack.

Thus, Squirrelflight gets moved into the nursery to care for “her” children with Bramblelight and Leafpool watching from the sidelines, their hearts aching. But it had to be done, right? The most the two can do is visit the three, bringing them gifts like honey and feathers to play with.

At least until Jaykit is revealed to be blind.

Now, the first part is still similar the beginning of the power of three arc, with Jaykit finding out about the prophecy Firestar gets send up until they get made apprentices.

The focus shifts to Lionpaw, who gets a visit in his dreams, from who? Tigerstar of course, who promises the boy to make him stronger than anyone else, which Lionpaw accepts without questioning (because he might be the only idiot here). But at his second or third visit to the dark forest, on his way he meets another brown tabby with ice blue eyes.

Hawkfrost.

The tom’s pelt was full of open claw wounds, just having a fight with Tigerstar about how he was unsure he still wanted to follow him. It resulted in a fight that made him make his mind up about whom to trust and who not, and this little golden brown apprentice he met on his way back reminded him a little too much of Mothwing than he liked to admit.

They only talk for a very short while before they both wake up in their clans, but Hawkfrost feels like something was wrong.

Why was that kit so similar to him, his sister and ...

What was Tigerstar actually planning?

[chicagocityofclans]

Helenus Askeris → Charlie Rowe  → Witch

→ Basic Information

Age: 796

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Powers: Geokinesis

Birthday: August 25

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Religion: Hellenic Polytheism

Mark: Unknown

Generation: Unknown

→ His Personality

When asked about his past he will rarely give a straight answer. Like many his age he has seen and done a lot that he would rather forget about. It has shaped who he is though. It has made him someone who hides part of himself from the world, someone who will protect those who need it and someone who would go to any length for those he loves. To the world he presents a man who is calm, charming and intelligent, if a little sarcastic. These are not lies but are not the whole truth either. As a youth he was playful and teasing but on the path his life took this wasn’t appreciated. That part of him may have grown quieter over the centuries but he hopes it’s still in there. His kindness is something else that could be called quiet. It shows up in small gestures and general benevolence to the people he comes into contact with. His life has also given him a darker side but it is something he still actively tries to keep locked inside, only letting it out when pushed to it. Something else he often battles with is not having his feet planted firmly on the ground. It has not always been an option to do so thus he has had to learn to be able to concur that fear when needed.  

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Book Shop Owner 

Scars: Several from his youth, including one on his thigh from a sword

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Tea and Dawn Walks

Two Dislikes: Olives and Being Controlled 

Two Fears: Losing his twin and Rollercoasters 

Two Hobbies: Playing Music and Sculpting 

Three Positive Traits: Kind, Loyal, Charming

Three Negative Traits: Secretive, Sarcastic, Fussy

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Unknown (Father): Helenus has never met his father and his mother always refused to talk about him.

Amara (Mother/deceased): His human mother passed on a long time ago but Helenus still holds onto fond memories of the little time he had with her. 

Sibling Names:

Cassandra Askeris (twin sister): The twins have always been extremely close and have gone to great lengths to protect each other over the years.

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Nesrin Askeris (wife/deceased): Helenus married young and whilst he loved Nesrin it was never romantic on his part. In those days it was just what was expected.

Nathan Cleirigh (Ex-Lover): Both Nathan and Helenus were still reasonably young when they met. Their friendship quickly developed into something more. Over the years though, they found their lives pulling them along different paths and to completely different places. Before things got messy they decided they should break it off, and as a result they are still on good terms to this day. 

Platonic Connections:

Jace Cicero (Ex-Mentor/Friend): With their similarities in personality and their shared power Jace was an excellent fit as a mentor for Helenus. He still remains one of Helenus’s favourites of those he had and has made an effort to keep in touch.

Averill Sookram (Ex-Mentor/Old Friend): Some are surprised to find these two are friends but they got along from the beginning. They both appreciate and respect each other and will often swap stories and knowledge over a dram of whiskey.  

Willaume ‘Bill’ White (Friendly): Bill has become a regular fixture at Priam Books and Helenus is always happy to see him. He appreciates the other witches' dedication to his studies. They have also started borrowing books from each other's private collections from time to time. 

Fallon Draga (Acquaintance): Helenus has on a few occasions engaged Fallon in her capacity as a book restorer. He has been pleased with her work and finds he doesn’t mind her company, often inviting her to stay for tea when she pops by the shop.

Minsky Edison (Friend): Minsky and Helenus were introduced by Averill but it was their shared appreciation for music that really formed their friendship. They will still regularly listen to records together and occasionally go to concerts. 

Eric Lasiter (Friendly): Helenus met Eric through Averill and Ronan. Helenus on occasion gets invited when the others hang out. They have always gotten along and he would be happy to cultivate this into a real friendship. 

Brighton ‘Bee’ Genesis (Friendly): As with Eric, Helenus met Bee through Averill and Ronan. They have gotten along well from the start and Helenus would be happy to become proper friends with Bee. 

Ronan Cleirigh (Ex-Mentor/Old Friend): Ronan was another of Helenus’ favourite mentors, finding the man to be fascinating and admiring his strong bond with his family. Though it has been many centuries since Ronan has mentored him, Helenus has always considered him a friend and was happy to be able to renew that friendship when they found themselves in the same city again. 

Chiara Ricci (Friendly): Chiara is a regular customer who is starting to become a friend. She often tries to get stories of his past out of him, which he doesn’t give into. He finds her tries amusing though and occasionally drops the smallest hint at a juicy story just to wind her up. 

Sadie McCoy (Acquaintance/Customer): Sadie has become a very good customer over the years, ordering many books for the Underground’s library. Helenus likes to go the extra mile for her, often including a few extra books he thinks will be useful for the many subjects that are studied down there. 

Lestat Marcoux (Friend): They met in Priam books and bonded over their shared interest in classical music and books. 

Hostile Connections:

Louis Martin-Rovet (Annoyance): Helenus isn’t overly fond of spies, and doesn’t appreciate his customers being spied on either. Any time he finds a trace of the rats in his shop he will make sure to remove it, constantly trying to get rid of any foothold they may have. Despite this he would never do anything to permanently harm or kill any of them. As the head of GOLD Louis has become the main focus of his annoyance. 

Pets:

Paris: A tabby cat he adopted that seems to spend most of its life asleep on top of a pile of books in the shop or attacking the plants in the flat above it. 

Argus: His sister's friendly and gentle irish wolfhound. He is often by Cassandra’s side or curled up in arm chairs he is much too big for. 

→ History His mother Amara was a human, working as a servant in the household of a wealthy merchant in the Venetian controlled Duchy of the Aegean. When the merchant's wife found out she was pregnant she took pity on her, moving her to a role in the kitchen and allowing her to keep the twins. Helenus and his sister were loved by the other servants but their happy, sheltered world couldn’t last forever. Their powers started to manifest at age ten, much to their Christian mother's horror. It was pure luck that the local priest was also a witch. He placed the twins with a mentor outside of the town, away from prying eyes. When he turned sixteen Helenus was sold to a ‘mentor’ in the Venetian military. He found he was a natural fighter and a strong sailor once he could get control of his fear of being on the water. This led many to joke he was in fact the Trojan he was named for. Whilst there were parts of being in the army he enjoyed, (getting to travel, the camaraderie) it came with much cruelty from superiors and a constant feeling like there was part of him missing. When he made it out and back to his twin it took him a long time to talk about what had happened but he found the same was true of Cassandra. Her mentor had turned abusive. One night he said enough was enough and the pair fled in the night.

They settled first in Constantinople where they found a mentor that was as wise as he was kind. The city became home, and Helenus started to put down roots. He met another witch, Nesrin and married her. He’d never been drawn to women but he cared for her very much and in the short years of their marriage considered himself very happy. Even after Nesrin’s death during the fall of Constantinople Helenus stayed in the city, finding there was so much to learn from this new culture. He buried himself in the scrolls and books being brought into the city, and the knowledge they contained. Eventually though it became necessary to leave due to growing attention from a family of hunters drawn by greed to his twins abilities. First they went back to Greece, then on to Italy, the Baltic, England and so on until they settled in America. 

→ The Present Helenus can still often be found with his head in a book. Since discovering his love of learning he hasn’t really stopped, and this passion has led him to open a book shop of his own. He has also started to open till 1am a few nights a week to cater to the city's vampire community. Some have criticized how he runs the place, given that he’ll happily let people sit and read all day without buying anything, but that’s just the way he likes it. He feels he has a good living and isn’t in any rush to drag more money out of his customers. His life is perhaps a quiet one but he likes that too, it feels peaceful after years of moving around.  

After talking with his sister he has realized that, like her, he hasn’t had any mentees in a while after taking some time out for his own studies. He now feels like he would be open to the idea again, always happy to pass on what he has learnt.