#and pib’s just got his head in his paws

[feelingtheaster99]

Omg this episode. They sent people with TERRIBLE charisma and deception to have these intense conversations and Pib’s out here with great both of those and he’s the one who fucking went to talk to the horses

[asmallpinkfan3]

Hey, I love your PIB Death fics and if it’s okay I have a request. I’m so sorry if it’s weird.

You know the phrase “flirting with death”? If you don’t it’s getting into dangerous or near death situations. The request is basically the reader has a crush on Death or they’re his s/o but they don’t see him often because he’s so busy, so they get into near death situations often to see him. Essentially the reader is flirting with Death.

Oooo I like that.

Song I listened to on repeat: me and the devil

Death with a s/o who constantly gets in trouble just to see him

GN reader

Warnings: small angst, reader constantly getting hurt, blood,fighting.

You knew that death was always busy but you still you wanted to see him more often.

It really didn’t bother you at first, until you came to the sudden realization that you genuinely felt alone.

The idea came to you when you were sitting in your room, he would have no idea that you would be this drastic to see him at first you would start out small then go more bigger.

So one day you took a small peek at the list of souls he had to collect, you saw a name of someone who lived near your house and took the chance to go to his house for a visit before death could get to his house.

Upon arrival death looked surprised when he saw you you sitting next to the guy talking to him about the most random topic.

“Oh hello there what can I do for you?” The man asked standing up, he was dying from some sort disease but still managed to stand up.

“Your time is up”. Was all the tall wolf said and you acted surprised but the back of your head was one of happiness because you could spend time with death even if it was for a few seconds.

The man’s eyes widened but then returned to a calm state as if he was ready for his death, “it was nice talking to someone before I go thank you y/n”. He said before death found the string in his arm and cut it.

The man’s body fell but his soul stayed standing, the man had a smile now that the pain he carried all these years were gone.

You walked over to death, “may I come with you as you take him to the afterlife?” Death nodded and you three walked to the portal near by.

You slipped a hand into his paw to which he returned with a squeeze. What you were doing was selfish but you couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of his paw in you hand.

As he let go of your hand and walked the man into the portal you felt sad once more and suddenly the thought of if you got your self in near death situations would make you see him more.

That’s when you decided that was your plan for when you wanted to see him more.

———

This was your third time this week of you getting in trouble you decided to fight the toughest guy in your town, a man known to kill his enemies.

As you stood up from you place at the bar you stared at him in the eyes after you challenged him to a fight, you were no pro at fighting as you liked to keep to yourself but for fucks sake you needed to see your boyfriend more.

And here you were on you back, the man on top of you, one hand in your throat and his punches meeting your face. It was a little ways away from the bar, the blood from you nose dripping onto the side of your cheek.

The punches were gone and you let out a small smile as you knew why he was pulled back, “now I think you have killed enough people so why don’t I return the favor.” A voice said as it was the one who belonged to your boyfriends.

You laid on your back still processing the pain as the man yelled saying that he didn’t deserve to die and that you challenged him. Death paused at that and now had you really been figured out?

“Even if they did you were gonna kill them, so why don’t I just end your ways”. Death said before slicing his string.

His soul stood up and ran off assuming to the portal that pulls lost/souls that try to run from it. Your eyes looked still looked up at the sky till a face looked over with a scolding look.

“Y/n did you challenge him to fight you?” He said you name, not a nickname. You felt a twinge of guilt and fear, turning you pushed yourself up.

“Yes I did”. You responded and death noticed the slight stagger of your legs and even though he was a little angry at you for nearly getting killed he held your side.

“Why?” Was all he asked and you only looked down, “I wanted to see you more because I don’t ever see you that’s why these past few days I’ve been getting hurt so I could see you”. Was all you could say as your head hung low.

Now death was taken aback had you really been so lonely that you had to nearly get killed just to see him? “Amor you should’ve talked about this with me”. He said and you looked at his red eyes, yours were full of regret.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think that through I only thought to nearly kill myself so I can see you.”

After that death tried to get done with work to see you and spend time with you so you don’t try to that ever again. He can’t lose you not yet at least he loves you to much for that

[edwardpinestar]

@royallydivinelesbian @thor-is-trans-and-pan-he-told-me

ahhh, sorry, your PiB Tangled AU has been giving me little nigglings of ideas everytime it pops up on my dash- So here's a little scenario based off of when Mother Gothel 'rescues' Rapunzel from the Stabbington brothers!

"Wait here."

Puss watched Kitty from the boat she'd dragged ashore, fingers fiddling with the hem of the purple doublet he wore. Unsurity rose within him, as he watched her started to head off into the fog without even waiting for answer from him.

"Kitty, wait!" he called out, quickly rising to his feet as reaching a paw out as though to try and catch her, even from this distance. Kitty obliged, half-turning to face him. "Will... You will come back, right?" Puss hesitantly asked after a moment. Kitty's face, which had been hard with something indiscernible since she'd seen something upon the shore and insisted they come here for a moment, softened, and she smiled at him in a comforting, if slightly jaunty manner. "Of course, ginger," she replied firmly, "I gotta get you back to that tower of yours, now don't I?" Puss smiled back, despite the uneasy churn in his gut that her words brought. "Now, wait here, I'll be right back," Kitty told him, turning back around and continuing to briskly walk into the thick fog. "I'll be back before you know it!"

"Yep, I'm sure!" Puss called back, a frown coming to his face and his shoulders dropping slightly as she fully disappeared into the fog, his voice more subdued as he continue to speak, "And I will just be here. Waiting."

After a few more moments, Puss sat down again, resting his forearms atop his knees, and rubbing his paw pads over the stiff leather of the boots Kitty had gotten him just earlier that day. When they'd come into the city, he had to keep most of his focus upon not stepping into shards of glass, and Kitty noticed it quickly. She dragged him to a cobblers store, and presented a purse stuffed with money, a purse Puss could've sworn wasn't the same one she'd used to try and pay for their drinks in the Snuggly Duckling, before the bar turned on her. Then, she'd ordered the cobbler sell them his best pair of cat-sized boots.

The boots were beautiful, in Puss' humble opinion. A polish black leather, with a nice, generous heel that got him to finally be the same height as Kitty, folded tops with a red line along them. He'd thanked her profusely after she'd given them to him, and promised multiple times over to repay her, but she'd gently turned him down.

Puss smiled at the memory, a blush coming to his face that grew hotter as it led to another memory.

He was no expert in romance, but Puss was entirely certain they'd almost kissed. He giggled softly, raising a paw to cover his lips, which tingled despite never having met Kitty's. Puss opened his mouth to squeal about it to Perrito, only to find the pup snoozing underneath Kitty's seat.

The tabby pouted, but elected to not awaken his dearest friend, well aware that usually, he and the pup would be in bed asleep by this hour. Puss chewed at his bottom lips, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he scanned through the fog around them, trying to catch a glimpse of the tuxedo molly he awaited.

Several long minutes passed, with no more than the sound of waves lapping the rocky shore, Perrito snuffling in his sleep, and the distant sound of night wildlife in the nearby woods. And still, not a sign of Kitty.

Puss frowned, the uneasiness in his gut, which he'd had from the moment Kitty had insisted quite firmly they come to the shore, growing by the second. Slowly, careful to not wake Perrito, Puss got out of the boat, boots crunching on the rocky, pebbled shore.

He walked to the bow of the boat, tracing a paw along its fine, lacquered surface as he went, eyes narrowed as he peered into the fog. His ears twitched up, after a moment more, when he heard the crunch of pebbles underfoot, and as he whirled around to face its direction, he began saying, "Kitty! Ay dios mío, you had..." Puss trailed off, eyes widening as he saw the tall, stocky figure approaching, whom was most definitely not Kitty.

The figure split into two, as twin low, menacing chuckles permeated the air, setting Puss' fur on end. "Not quite, little cat," a deep, masculine voice informed him. From the fog, Jack and Jill emerged, now visible and brandishing handmade bludgeons that made Puss shiver in fear

"W-what did you do to Kitty?" Puss demaned, holding himself tall in false bravado, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

The two criminals chuckled again, nasty smirks on their faces, and Jill replied, "We didn't do anything, cat. She left you all on her own." The woman, with her bludgeon, gestured out to the water, and Puss' eyes followed. There, he saw a boat, sailing away back to the city, with Kitty' silhouette manning the helm.

Puss felt tears well in his eyes, but stumbled a few steps away from the boat, closer to the shoreline. "Kitty-," he began, voice barely above a choked whisper, before he shouted, "Kitty! Kitty, wait!"

"She ain't coming back, boy," Jack said, chuckling again. Puss spun on his heel to face him, only to stumble backwards a few steps as he found them a lot closer than before. "Took the crown and ran~ Guess that's what she really wanted, eh?"

"I don't blame her," Jill jumped in before Puss could find the words to speak, "It's a very pretty crown. I was disappointed to see it go."

Jack patted Jill's shoulder in consolation, and said, "We got something a hell of a lot better than a crown now." He cast a significant look at Puss, and the tomcat felt his blood run cold, freezing in his veins.

"No," Puss whispered, practically tripping over his feet as he tried to scramble back. The crme duo advanced, bludgeons made of tree branches with splinters lining the top held at the ready. Puss felt his heart racing, and furtively glanced at the boat, not seeing Perrito anymore.

"A magic cat, with the power to keep you alive forever..." Jack said, his smirk getting even wider. "Who wouldn't want that? Softpaws' got her priorities all messed up."

As Jack and Jill got closer and closer, Puss suddenly twirled around and bolted, running down the shoreline past them. He heard the cackling, and could hear them begin pursuing, their boots loud on the pebbles. The tears that'd been welling in his eyes spilled down his cheeks, streaking the mascara he so attentively applied each morning.

Distantly, he could hear the two taunting him, but their words barely registered as he felt, heart pounding in his head and ears ringing so loudly he couldn't hear anything but that. He was barely paying attention to anything, simply fleeing, each step unsteady in new boots he hadn't had the time to get adjusted to,

In his adrenaline fueled run, he didn't notice the hole in the ground until it was too late.

Puss tumbled down with a shout, pain shooting up hsi left ankle from where he'd stepped into a small hole. He caught himself on his hands, stinging pain erupting in them as they grazed upon the sharp pebbles. He was panting, as he scrambled on the ground, trying to pull himself up.

The tabby grunted in pain as he tugged his leg to free it, but it was to little avail, as it did not budge. He could hear Jack and Jill getting closer, cackling manically, and he scooped up a particularly large rock by him, hefting it into one paw, and priming it to through.

Shhinnk!

Suddenly, Puss heard screams of agony, heard the sound of metal splintering wood and flesh being ripped through. He heard the wet thunk as something impaled a body, as the screams reached their shrill crescendo, before suddenly stopping.

Silence again reigned over the beach, save for the whimpers and sobs Puss could not hold back, as he lay in pain, trembling with wide eyes, staring at where he'd run from. And then, from the fog, emerged a familar figure.

"Papá," Puss sobbed, reaching out to the man with a bloodied paw.

Red eyes shot down to him, a look of frenzied worry on the wolf's face which only grew upon seeing the tabby lying prone. "Puss," Papá returned, just as relieved and desperate, "Oh, mi amor, I'm so sorry, I tried to stop them, I tried so hard-"

The wolf rushed to Puss' side, slipping his sickles, dripping with fluids Puss would rather not think about, into their sheathes. He kneeled beside Puss, large paws hovering over the tiny cat as though unsure of where to touch them. "I'm so sorry, gatito, I hadn't wanted to get too close because you were so upset when I last did, and I did not even notice those... those horrid criminals until it was too late!"

"Papá," Puss sobbed again, reaching out to grab the wolf's poncho, but his paws were grabbed by the man before he could.

The wolf examined the blood on Puss' plush pink paw pads, holding him gently in one paw. "You're bleeding," he remarked, "Where else are you hurt?"

Puss swallowed thickly, before replying in a trembling voice, "M-my ankle. I-its stuck and hurts."

Immediately, Papá's attention went to his leg, and he wrapped a paw around Puss' middle, and another around his stuck leg. Then, he slowly lifted Puss, pausing when the cat yowled in pain, and then continuing to do so, until Puss was entirely out of the hole, and was seated upon his Papá's paw, cradled close to the man's chest.

"You'll be okay," Papá assured him softly, rubbing a finger along Puss' ear, which flicked at the touch. "You don't have to be afraid anymore, darling, Papá is here."

Puss nodded, his throat thick and fat tears rolling down his cheeks. "Where is your friend?" Papá asked, looking around as though concerned, "Softpaws, was it? Was she hurt too?"

The tabby's sobbed harder, bringing his paws to his eyes, paying no mind to the blood. The wolf shifted Puss, gently roking him like a babe, whle he took Puss' paws from his face and wiped tears and blood from his cheeks. "Puss?"

"S-she le-left me!" Puss wailed, sniffling as his nose began to run. He could see his Papá's face, could see the shock, and then resignation upon it.

"Oh, Puss," Papá cooed softly, holding the tabby now in both his paws, cradling him entirely. "I had hoped I was wrong about her. I'm so sorry I wasn't."

"Wh-why did sh-she leave me?" the tabby asked between sobs and hitched breathes.

Papá sighed, and tilted his head down, pressing a kiss between Puss' ears. "Because people out here..." he began in a soft voice, "they're not kind. Especially people like her. They only care about themselves."

"I thought she'd be dif-different," Puss whispered, and the wolf sighed again.

"I'm sorry, gatito," Papá said. "Let's get you home, where it's safe and sound, and no one can hurt you again." With that, the wolf began to slowly lumber towards the forestline, holding the tiny cat gently, and needing no lamp while the moonlight was there to guide his path.

Kitty had left him.

She'd abandoned him for the crown.

Papá had been right all along.

Puss sobbed into his father's chest, clinging to the wolf's poncho, as Papá rubbed his thumb against the tabby's back soothingly, and whistled the low, haunting tune that had comforted Puss for as long as he could remember.

It wasn't quite as comforting as he remembered.

[mythriteshah]

Dinner with Violet & Steel

Within the mythril-blue halls of the Higuri Regalia’s Main Branch Headquarters was a vast dinner table made of that same blue metal.  Precious fabrics of tulle were placed evenly along the length of the table, as plates of exquisite food from all corners of Hydaelyn were being placed.

The Angels – Lord Thiji’s personal retinue of assassin-maidservants – were gathered around the table.  At the head was the Mythrite Sultan himself, being poured a glass of his Winter Lassi by his Main Branch Advisor, Veeveena Veena.  He and his Angels were regaling one another over their recent success in the Bloodsands…

Lilina: So how’d it go?! I wanted to witness the spectacle myself, but I have been so busy with my Summoner training…

Veeveena: Oh, it went quite well, Miss Lilina!  In fact, we would be honored if Miss Susuna could recall the story for us in full detail!

Susuna: Hey, can I at least get in a glass or two of wine first?!

The Angels chuckled as Susuna gulped down her caelumtree wine.  All the Angels were garbed in the uniform of their respective branches, save for a few who were wearing items from the PiB Catalogue: Veeveena in her Impurity’s Sampot as per usual; Isja in her Life-Warden’s Veil, and Himmeya in the Griffin-Mistress’ Choil.

After a good half-bell into their feast, Veeveena popped the question to her fellow Angel once more, who took another long sip of her wine before jumping up to the table in a dramatic fashion, startling her sisters.

Susuna: So there we were, surrounded by the typical Ul’dahn crowd of nobles looking for bloodshed! Even Ishgard’s own nobility came to spectate!  The Mythril Cup was nigh, and it was here that our latest operation would unfold: Violet Steel!

Luluma: But wait, I thought Miss Himmeya didn’t use weapons?

Susuna: I’m getting there! So anyway, the contestants were lined up in the Bloodsands: a big, burly Sea Wolf Gladiator; a not-as-big but just-as burly female Sea Wolf Marauder; a Midlander soldier of the Immortal Flames; a female Duskwight Lancer; a Sun Seeker male from the Black Shroud – a Redbelly Wasp; a pair of male twin Dunesfolk Thaumaturges, and a Highlander Thief!

Isja: Hm… I counted nine, including Himmeya.  Who was the tenth?

Susuna: She was a Far Easterner, by the look of her armor.  She had a pink scabbard which obviously housed a Doman Steel katana.  At the time, she was masked, so her face was obscured from view.  So as they welcomed the combatants, I placed a hundred thousand gil on Himmeya winning. The odds at the time were 100 to 1.

Lelena: What?!  Then that must mean –

Susuna: That’s right! Ten million gil was going to belong to the Regalia once Himmeya won!  Of course, the real victory was getting word out on the PiB Catalogue, which my sisters and Miss Shiro were manning just outside the coliseum at the time.

Umimi: Oh, when does the fun part come?  Let’s hear about the fighting!

Sesena: Oh, don’t be so impatient, Miss Umimi!  Suna’s gotta set the mood first!

Susuna: Whaddya mean? The mood is already set!  The fight started and everyone was goin’ at it! The Gladiator and Marauder ganged up on the swordmaiden while the Lancer and the Redbelly Archer did their thing.

Umimi, taking a sip of water: Now that’s more like it!

Susuna: The Flames soldier made good use of his shield, deflecting the elemental onslaught from the Thaumaturge twins!  Then here comes the Highlander Thief from out of the shadows, looking to draw first blood by taking out Himmeya!

The Angels gasped as Himmeya simply shook her head, biting into another piece of baklava.  The Enforcer was amazed by the taste that she had to stop and appreciate the flavor for a moment…

Himmeya, thinking: Damn.  Now I see why this is Lord Thiji’s favorite dessert.

Susuna: Unfortunately for him, Miss Himmeya was in her exclusive Fists of Ice stance!  When the Thief jumped onto her shoulders for an Assassination attack, she caught him off balance using Arm of the Destroyer, then quickly grabbed him by the leg, hung him upside-down for a mean Touch of Death to the gut, and chucked his tattooed ass across the arena, taking a shield bash and Scathe combo as he was sent flying into the wall!

Umimi & Veeveena: Nice!

The other Angels applauded Himmeya’s performance.  The Fist of Rhalgr disciple found it difficult to respond to such an ovation, so she simply waved sheepishly.

Isja: Who knew the Treasurer had such a talent for storytelling?

Sosona: Susuna may be the youngest between the three of us, but her expertise at information gathering and gossip is second-to-none.

Susuna: With the first combatant knocked out, Himmeya took up a new stance: the Fists of Water!  The Lancer incapacitated the Miqo’te bandit with a straight kick and went straight for the Flames soldier!  Meanwhile, the Thaumaturges enhanced their defenses with Manawards as they prepared a mean spell to throw at Himmeya!

Lelena: How would she be able to close the distance in time?!

Susuna: She didn’t have to. Much like the Fists of Ice slowing down opponents she struck, this stance had a unique effect as well!  The Fists of Water increased her effective striking range by at least ten yalms!  So she was able to instantly break their barriers with another antiquated technique: the One-Ilm Punch!

Meriri: Goodness, lass! Ye be puttin’ Pugilists to shame with yer skills!

Koyuki: It was at this point that the crowd had its eyes fixed on Miss Himmeya, and some had even inquired as to where she obtained her clothes!  You can only imagine what we told them in response!

Shishira: Lord Thiji dearest was spectating from the other end, cloaked in black and violet, signaling the next phase: bringing in the masses!  But for now, Miss Susuna should continue.

Susuna: Thank you, ma’am! So, with the Thaumaturges’ defenses shattered by a single hit, the Archer managed to recover and shot an arrow at the older brother, which really pissed off his younger sibling!  He gathered his might and dropped an orbital laser on his head – the Skyshard!

Isja: Heavens…!

Umimi: He died, right?

Susuna: He should have!  It’s a Limit Break, for Thal’s sake!  But capitalizing on this, the Marauder chick took out the exhausted younger with a mean Overpower, wrapping up the triangle knockout!

Meriri: So how was the swordmaiden doin’ in the midst of all this?

Susuna: She held her own no problem!  In fact, I was going to get to her in a minute!  So, the roster was down to half at this point, with only Himmeya, the Far Easterner, the Roegadyns, and the Flames Soldier remaining!

Yuanji: But you missed the Duskwight – what happened to her?

Susuna, taking another sip of her wine: Oh, right – her.  She got slashed right below the tits by the Flames soldier.

The Angels broke out into laughter yet again from the Treasurer’s remark.  Umimi nearly spat out her water as a result.  Thiji only shook his head, the only thing escaping his lips being a soft chuckle.

Susuna: Which is even funnier considering how she was talking so much good shite to Miss Himmeya before the fight began! 

Himmeya: Said I was better fit for ballroom dancing.

Lilina: Ballrooms can be arenas, too!

Susuna: Well-stated, Miss Lilina!  Very true! So anyway, he was up next. Himmeya readied her third trump card: The Fists of Lightning!

Lilina: Ooh! Ooh!  That stance had to have paralyzed her foes, right?!

Himmeya: Correct. Though my attacks kept hitting his shield, he would eventually find it harder to hold it up as the electric current danced around the metal and eventually shocked him.

Susuna: And that was when she gave him a double Tiger Claw Strike!

Himmeya: “Couerl Paw”, Miss Susuna.

Susuna: Eh, semantics! The point is, he was knocked on his ass and was eliminated!  All eyes were on Himmeya now, and the nobles were starting to see the meaning of “Power in Beauty” through our star performer!  So we directed them outside to the booth we had set up.  Those who stayed, however, were in for a treat! That Marauder chick was furious now, and charged at Himmeya full speed!  But she was able to stop her dead in her tracks with the Steel Peak technique, stunning her long enough to charge her power move… Uh, what did you call it again?

Himmeya & Sosona: Chesed (pronounced “heh-sed”).

Susuna: Thanks to Sona’s fine-tuning, Miss Himmeya overclocked her Fists of the Fiend and brought the full power of life and growth onto the face of the Marauder, sending her bouncing into the wall where she made a nice Roegadyn-sized hole in it before landing on her neck!

The Angels winced in pain.

Susuna: That left only Himmeya, the Gladiator, and the swordmaiden.  At this point, the Roegadyn was getting frustrated as her opponent was getting the upper hand, so he tried to draw her away with a Bloodstain – or Circle of Scorn, if you prefer!  But then she did this thing where it looked like she foresaw the incoming attack and instantly evaded it, sliding backwards a full 360-degrees before advancing and retaliating with a slash which disarmed him!

Luluma: So some sort of… Foresight Slash?

Susuna: Yeah, that’s what it sounds like!  Anyway, she sent the man into the air with a Tsubame-Gaeshi, then bisected the fool with an Ougi – some Far Eastern word meaning “Hidden Technique”.

???: The Hana-no-Fukei – the Scenery of Blossoms.

Everyone looked around to find the source of the voice.  Then from the entrance to the dining hall was a petite Midlander Hyur wearing the uniform of the Othard Branch, with a pink scabbard identical to the one Susuna described in her retelling.  She had auburn hair tied in a ponytail and golden eyes, flawless skin, and an air of poise.  She greeted everyone with a bow and immediately took a seat beside Himmeya.

Susuna: Introducing our newest Angel: Kaori Hanabira, the Petaldancer!

Kaori: Truly, it is an honor to be part of such a wonderful company.  It is grand to see my old friend Himmeya again.

Meriri: Wait, you’re the same lass who cut down the Gladiator?  Then how’d the rest of the match end?

Kaori: After I struck down that ruffian, I revealed myself to Himmeya.  We had befriended each other during the Rhalgr’s Beacon operation when she was still in the Resistance.

Himmeya: She stowed away on an East Aldenard vessel all the way to Limsa Lominsa, where she sought to return the favor of the brave westerners who helped liberate Doma.

Thiji: We are honored to have you among us, Miss Kaori.  You will serve us well as the Othard Branch’s Enforcer.

Kaori: I shall not disappoint.

Umimi: With all due respect, my lord… who won the Mythril Cup?

Thiji: That honor belongs to Miss Himmeya, of course.  They had shared a dialogue before sparring.  Both gave their all, but in the ensuing clash, Miss Kaori’s blade would shatter upon Himmeya’s enhanced fists.  Without a weapon with which to fend herself, and her own martial arts proving inadequate, the only logical choice was to concede.

Kaori: But it was an honorable duel, and I only entered to find Miss Himmeya in the first place. She enjoys fighting – as do I.  So I thought a coliseum battle would be the ideal event to find her.  The kami smiled upon me that day to find her there, though I was unaware of a greater scheme in the works.

Yuanji: Ahh – of course! Miss Sesena’s team was swamped after the match, were you not?

Sesena: We would have been were it not for the fact that Miss Shiro is a master assassin!  She gave everyone a copy with lightning speed!

Sosona: And now we have an easy 10 million gil in the bank; more exposure for the Regalia, and a new Angel. An awesome profit was won that day.

Susuna: The bookmaker was appalled by the outcome, but that’s the thing about gambling: sometimes –

Sesena and Sosona join in: You lose!

Umimi: But not for the Regalia!  This gamble was a victory for us all!  A toast to our success, and to our newest Angel – Miss Kaori!

Thiji: To Miss Kaori.

Yuanji & Koyuki: Kampai!

(Picture commissioned by Dizzyfuture)

[virmillion]

Some Kind Of Magical - Chapter 1

Chapter 2 / Masterpost / ao3

Warnings: Food mention, let me know if there’s any more

Words: 4630

    “Yeah, no, I’m definitely switching,” Logan says, tracing a finger under the bolded guidelines on the syllabus. The only marring on the pale blue paper is the corner, folded just enough to be a gripping point in the event he might need it quickly. Even the pad of his finger hardly leaves a trace of oil or sweat. “Says here the only requirement is a clear and concise direction for my project, and if Research is willing to accept my TryMyts, I should be all set. Shouldn’t be too difficult, and trust me, I’ve seen a few successful TryMyts in the past. I’ve nothing to worry about.” Logan smooths out the corner on the cafeteria table, careful to avoid the remnants of food and drink littering the surface. “Patton, any particular way you intend to sneak desertion past your dad?”

    Patton slouches down in his seat, nearly resting on his back as his head tips to groan at the ceiling. “He threatened to take my bedroom door off while I’m at school today, what with me daring to leave five minutes earlier than usual, so I’m open to suggestions.”

    “Have you considered staying with Resolute and pretending to be happy about it?” Roman prods a plastic fork at his lunch, poking his tongue at a canker sore aggravating the corner of his lips.

    “Have you considered lying to Pib about what you want to go into?”

    “Fair point.” Roman scrapes up some heavily burned vegetables, slathered in a generous heaping of grease and pepper, and watches them drip between the prongs of his fork to splatter on the styrofoam tray. Logan grimaces, blotting up the new stain from his oversized black glasses. “Maybe put off telling your dad until you get into Rehabilitate, then. Not much he can do once you’re officially in a different Trytsu.” Scooping a carrot slice into his mouth, Roman stabs his fork in the air to emphasize his point as he talks around the food. “Plus, I mean, it’s not like he’ll be able to stop you if he doesn’t know it’s happening to begin with, right?”

    “Yeah, that’s kind of what I was thinking.” Patton leverages himself up to a more proper posture on his wobbling stool, resting his chin on a fist. His elbow nearly shoots out from under him when more grease sprays at it from Roman’s dropped fork. “Sorry for bringing Pib into this, I know that’s not really my business. Force of habit, deflection against the lecture I’ll get later and everything.”

    “Of course, your father’s famed ‘Resolve via Resolute’ speeches. A crowd pleaser, to be sure.” Logan shoots Roman a wry grin as Patton elbows him in playful annoyance. “I do believe myself to be familiar with the concept.”

    “Mocking his grammar is your favorite part and you know it.”

    “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

    “Deny it,” Virgil cuts in, slamming an overflowing tray down beside Roman.

    “You don’t even know what you’re telling him to deny,” Patton accuses, reaching over to snatch something from Virgil’s tray. Virgil swats the hand away as he drops into the empty seat, warily stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. No further attempts on Virgil’s lunch are made.

    “Irrelevant.”

    “Your face is irrelevant,” Roman retorts. The mere threat of Virgil’s whiplash glare is enough to keep his paws off the new food.

    “Nice comeback, where’d you find it? A tide pool for newborn selkies? Because trust me, that’s about how deep it cuts.” Ignoring the look of high offense on Roman’s face, Virgil sets about shoveling his towering stack of food down his throat.

    “So what’s with the delay?” Logan doesn’t look up from the syllabus, still tapping his fingers lightly over certain lines. Doodles scribbled in pen crawl over his skin, shining an unnatural dark blue in the fluorescent lighting of the cafeteria.

    A spray of crumbs and spit accompanies Virgil’s response, as well as a thumb jabbing behind him. “Than.”

    “Is that so?” Patton swivels around on his stool, bracing a hand against the table. “I’ll go tell him a thing or two about delaying one of my friends, and if he’s got any sense about keeping that pretty blond hair on his head, he’ll listen close.”

    “Not going to help your probation situation,” Logan sing songs under his breath. He anchors Patton down with the barest trace of an ink-covered finger on his hand. Patton slumps back down in defeat, the righteous fires of rage crackling down to burning embers in his eyes. “Virgil? Care to spare more than four letters in regards to your delay?”

    “Adoptive parents, undeclared TryMyts, a bottomless pit for a stomach, a tattered friendship that he seems hell bent on repairing, the usual. Roman, if you so much as touch my tray, my next snack is going to be your hand.”

    “Says the vegetarian,” mutters Roman. Regardless, he draws his hand back to his chest and shields it with the other. “So you’re really sticking with undeclared?”

    Before letting Virgil get a word in edgewise, the other three chime in with their own opinions. “Do you know how rare it is to have a successful TryMyts without declaring your intended Trytsu beforehand?”

    “What did your moms say about it?”

    “If Pib goes undeclared, I’m calling it on you.”

    “Do you have any ideas for an all-purpose project?”

    “Do you need any help with it?”

    “Speaking of help, can you give me some with my homework?” The clamor of conversation halts as Virgil casts a quirked eyebrow at Roman.

    “Topic jump much?” Virgil slides his somehow already empty tray to the side, letting Roman’s notebook fill in the gap. In the midst of Roman pointing out his issue, Virgil tugs more snacks from his bags and crams them into his mouth.

    “So are your parents really okay with you switching?” Patton asks, angling his knees toward Logan. He lowers his voice so as not to interrupt the studying pair across from them. “I know they’ve always been really proud of their Rehabilitate lineage.”

    “I discussed the matter with Ren last night,” Logan says, shuffling through his stack of papers, “and we’re going to talk it over with my mother once she finds a break in her work. Ren was all for it, but they’re always like that, so it’s not like I’m overly concerned.” The slight furrow in Logan’s brows betrays that he probably is, in fact, overly concerned, but Patton elects not to comment on this.

    The warning bell to end lunch period chimes, sending freshmen scattering and seniors groaning. As a whole, the air of the room turns from relaxed to agitated. “Wish my dad could act the same way.” Patton rescues a fallen blue pen from the floor, handing it off to Logan before tossing his own garbage in the rolling bin.

    “Punch him in the jugular,” Virgil suggests, stowing some wrappers in his pocket instead of trying to catch up with the freshman dutifully pushing away the garbage bin. “It’ll prove you mean business, and isn’t that what he wants?”

    “What he wants is to keep me from shipping out like my mom did, but how’s that working out for him?” Patton’s hazel eyes dart to the loudspeaker that sounded the bell, an analog clock ticking away seconds to its left. “Speaking of working something out, I’d better get going. I’m supposed to be making up an assignment with Myjhyrr Pentheon between periods. Later.” The remaining trio forces back a collective laugh as Patton shoulder-checks Than on his way out, sending a considerable amount of papers flying. Even more amusing is how the three inches of differences means that Than’s chin knocks into Patton’s shorter shoulder as the former goes down.

    “Where might you two be headed?” asks Logan. He swings his bag across his back with surprising ease, given its numerous and overflowing contents. Roman tucks another pen in one of the side pockets—not Logan’s, to be sure, but the guy certainly has a penchant for collecting lost writing utensils that don’t belong to him.

    “Myjhyrr Senthyirr wants to meet me in his room for his off hour, undeclared Trytsu and all. Have fun being studious nerds.” Virgil gives a two-fingered salute to Logan and tugs on a strand of Roman’s short, brown hair as they approach Than. He takes an offered stick of gum from Roman, busying himself with reading the label to ignore Than.

    “Still showing your face, I see. You know, I hear it’s remarkably difficult to live past twenty when you can’t even sort yourself out at seventeen,” Than jeers, still bent over to scrape together his fallen papers. He tightens the knot of the plaid jacket tied around his waist and dusts off his knees. “Guess that’s why your parents didn’t want you though, right?”

    Virgil slinks past in silence, still a good head taller than Than despite a chronic slouch. With a choice finger in the air behind him, he strolls through the yawning double doors into a refreshingly cool hall, filled with the last few stragglers of the final lunch period.

    Unnecessarily deep into the far end of the school stands a nondescript door, completely unremarkable. Aside from its inconvenient location, of course. Virgil knocks, three quick raps, before tugging on the handle without waiting for a response. The knock is more a show of courtesy than a request for permission, anyway.

    “Myjhyrr Senthyirr? You, uh, you wanted to see me?” Virgil flinches as the door slams shut behind him—just the wind, he tells himself. Right, because an empty hallway is just so famous for its spontaneous tornadoes. The room ahead seems to recoil from light, shrouding itself in shadow as an even darker silhouette materializes. It takes impossibly long strides, arriving before Virgil with a shapeless blob hovering between them. A hand, Virgil informs himself, probably more desperate to believe it than he’d be willing to let one. Just shake it. Shake his hand. He doesn’t. The floating mass retracts.

    “Yes, well, let’s just have a seat, shall we? Make yourself at home, I’ve excused you for the whole class period.” The silhouette floats away, sinking down into what’s apparently a chair, its posture indicating for Virgil to follow suit. Heb shuffles along, keeping his arms outstretched into the darkness. The gum smacks loudly in his mouth. Its resounding echo shrieks in Virgil’s ears.

    “Actually, I’ve got this exam coming up, and I really should be—”

    “Nonsense. You’ll be fine. I’ve seen your scores. Remarkable, truly. Not to mention, the year just started. There are no exams yet.” The vague outline of a person shifts, allowing its eyes to shine in the slim beam of the pale sun peeking into the room, its brilliance marred by clouds. “Try harder to think of an excuse the next time you deign to lie to my face, hm?” The eyes, just barely bright enough to be called human, stare Virgil down in the vast emptiness of the room, big and brown and seeming to know something he doesn’t. Virgil twitches.

    “Let’s see here, adopted into a blended home of Research and Resolute? Interesting, we don’t often see cross-Trytsu pairings, especially successful ones. More so in regards to those particular Trytsun, what with Resolute’s prevailing penchant for involvement in wars.” Virgil bites back a snide remark of how he’d certainly never heard that opinion before, not in all his seventeen years of existing. “Why don’t you just run me through the reasons for your uncertainty? If I know what’s got you running around that wheel in your head, I can better know how to assist your year.”

    “Yeah. Yeah, okay, sure. So Resolute, I’m just not much of a fighter? And I know that’s not what Resolute is about, it’s about defending others and keeping the peace through physical means, but like, that’s just not me. I want to protect people, yeah, but it’s not like I want to have to get violent against other creatures to do that, you know? And yeah, I know, that’s not what it’s about, and I, um, I love my mother and how, like, caring she is, despite everyone touting her as being a member of ‘Revenge’ or whatever, but still.

    “And then there’s Rehabilitate, which, I don’t know, maybe? I like caring for creatures and ensuring their survival and stuff, and working on projects when we’re supposed to come up with innovative solutions to environmental problems regarding trystopian creatures, but the selflessness aspect of it all? It just feels wrong, like I put more value in the lives of those I’m supposed to help than I put in my own, which definitely isn’t the point, although I guess I sort of do that already. Plus, it’s not like I grew up with a Rehabilitate influence, either.

    “If I can’t decide in the end, then I’ll probably just end up in Research, mostly because it’s the easiest, and my mom would probably be thrilled. I mean, I haven’t talked with her about it, but I don't think she’d be disappointed. Logan and I—Logan Thylktor, I mean—help Roman Thyrrak with his homework a lot, so that’s alright, and I like learning stuff, but the whole, like, ‘hands-off’ approach when it comes to dealing with the creatures? That’s just not me, not my style. And my mom swears she’d support me even if I don’t go into her Trytsu, but I just don’t want to disappoint her, or my mother, or anyone. Sorry, it’s just that I’m completely lost, and I don’t know what to do anymore.” Virgil busies himself blowing a bubble to keep from spilling any more thoughts than necessary—his usual rule of ten word sentences or less evidently does not apply here.

    More light crowds into the room through the yawning gap by the window, having grown ever wider through Virgil’s rambling. It washes over Myjhyrr Senthyirr, making those brown eyes twinkle and that violet hair glow. Virgil chooses the latter to focus on, to wonder at the unnatural coloring, to ponder over why a teacher would intentionally look unprofessional like that. Certainly an easier task than to meet that piercing gaze, unrelenting and undeniable.

    “It seems to me,” the teacher begins, steepling his fingers together, “that you just need somewhere to start. As the general advisor of the TryMyts in this region, as well as this school’s specialty counselor for undeclared students, I personally feel that you, Virgil Thriyv, need to stop thinking so much.”

    “But I—”

    “Nope, not done talking. You just need to decide what you’re passionate about. Anything. It doesn’t even have to connect to a specific Trytsu. If you get your giggles from watching insects crawl over rotten food, then I might suggest finding a new hobby, but more power to you. It just has to be something you enjoy, that you can actively pursue, and over the course of the year, I’m sure it will eventually turn itself into whatever Trytsu you decide you need it to be. Does that sound goo?” Forcing back a tidal wave of reasons as to why this could go wrong, Virgil nods. His gum pops. “Excellent. Now, there’s just about twenty minutes left until the assembly, so why don’t you just stay in here and get to work? I’ll let you know when it’s time to head down.”

    Virgil nods again, retrieves some bound papers and a purple pen from his bag, and gets to work. Not preparing for his project, of course not, but doodling aimlessly while keeping a careful eye on Myjhyrr Senthyirr. At least, as much as he can in the impossibly dark room. The teacher bustles about the room, repositioning bottles that weren’t in disarray to begin with, changing the order of books on the shelf without rhyme or reason, moving chairs between desks that already have enough seats. At some point, Virgil allows the drawing to consume most of his attention, only stopping when the sound of shattering glass jerks his head up. Myjhyrr Senthyirr grins sheepishly, stepping around the mess of dropped bottles he’d so carefully organized mere minutes earlier. Assured of a lack of imminent danger, Virgil turns back to his drawing. It’s certainly nothing to write home about, and it’s nowhere near the caliber of Logan’s portfolio, but it could be worse. He stuffs it in his bag as Myjhyrr Senthyirr motions to the door, ignoring the still-rattling shards of glass.

    “Shall we?” Following him out, Virgil casts a final glance into the dark room, baffled by how he could have managed to see the paper at all, let alone well enough to put a cohesive drawing on the thing. Maybe his eyes adjusted to the relief from the terribly blinding hallway lights. Sure, he’ll go with that. Of more importance than eyes that can see in the dark is the massive swarm of people barreling for the auditorium—all seniors and teachers, by the looks of it. Virgil draws his shoulders in, one hand gripping the opposite arm protectively as a pair of yelling girls jostle against his side.

    All too quickly, not soon enough, somewhere in the blurry fog that lies between the two, the grand wooden doors to the auditorium loom before him. Myjhyrr Senthyirr pats Virgil’s back reassuringly before breaking off for a separate teacher’s entrance, but it’s not the touch that makes Virgil flinch. It’s the murmured, “I couldn’t see an inch past my eyes in that room,” and the immediate disappearance without further clarification. Before he can even begin to search for the missing teacher, Virgil feels a warm hand clap on his shoulder, followed by a bare arm slinging around his neck.

    “Logan’s already in there,” Roman says, squeezing the hand tighter on Virgil’s shoulder. “Said to look near the back, toward the end of the row.” Virgil finishes the side-hug with Patton and peels off Roman’s fingers, stepping through the gaping doorway. Some kid lingers behind to hold it open for the crowds with their foot, causing Virgil to wonder at their patience to wait for so long.

    “Look, there he is!” Patton exclaims, pointing to the only straight back in a sea full of slouched adolescents. He drags Virgil and Roman by the hand to greet the person that reveals himself to be Logan, his books spread over the three seats nearest him. Logan shuffles them into his bag as Patton climbs over his lap to sit to his left, leaving Virgil and Roman to sit on his right. On Roman’s other side is only the aisle, a stampede of students from which e shields Virgil.

    “I assumed you’d want to be in the back, so as to safely observe everyone else from a distance. Is this location agreeable?” Logan turns his head to face Virgil, snapping shut the book in his hands. At a grateful nod, Logan turns back to his written words, leaving Virgil to scope out the room, rather than the impossibly large mass of writhing bodies. Granted, the meticulously carved walls, with their reliefs and murals of glory in battle and study and protection, all look otherworldly, carefully crafted and displayed as they are. A wonder to behold, right along with the columns scattered by the many doors, scored with thin lines to mark every class of students to succeed in their TryMyts, to successfully enter a Trytsu, to make it where they want to be. A testament to the school’s pride in its students, to say the least, but more than that, more than the decorated walls, more than the grand doors, Virgil loves the splendor of the wooden stage at the front and center of it all.

    He loves the fake satin curtains that tie off in copper ropes to frame the platform. He loves the three steps that let the audience run onstage and the actors hide in the crowd. He loves the drop away spots in the floor for dramatic entrances. He loves thinking back on that glimmer of pride in Roman’s face as he’d help redesign the stage in their first year here.

    Nothing had seemed to be able to make Roman happier in that moment besides, of course, his demands that his friends be allowed to help. Virgil still remembers seeing the reluctance of the design committee morph into ecstatic anticipation as Logan facilitated the layout of burned details into the wooden floor. Even in the little nick in the curtains from where Patton got confused with scissors remains, an integral part of Virgil’s enjoyment of the set. Somewhat less significant is the speeches he’d been made to give there, how every eye in the room seemed to zero in on him, on his flaws, on his stutters and murmurs. Deep down, he knows that’s not the case, that it was never the case, that getting a pack of teenagers to all focus on the same insecurity at the same time is nigh impossible, but his head always has a hard time believing that.

    This disbelief is evidently well-founded, as each and every last head in the audience snaps to the front, where Myjhyrr Senthyirr brandishes a glistening sword at the front row. The clamor of voices dies down into hushed whispers of panic as the blade cocks back, gearing up to strike. Cries and shouts not to do it, to have mercy, to get help, to hold him back, all fall on deaf ears as Myjhyrr Senthyirr swings the sword down at the student before him. They gasp, flinching back and squeezing their eyes shut.

    The sword comes to a screeching halt, its silver surface hovering inches from the kid’s face. “Now that I have everyone’s attention, let’s begin.” He hands the sword off to some teacher that scurries out from backstage, thanking the decidedly-not-emotionally-scarred kid for playing along. “TryMyts. Trytsu Commitments. Deciding who you want to be in thirty years when you’re only seventeen or eighteen. With the Trytsu thesaurus out of the way, I’m not going to waste any more of your time. As a senior student body, each of you is to decide which Trytsu truly fits you, then you’ll all do individual projects to pass and graduate, or else you’ll repeat the year.” Myjhyrr Senthyirr rolls his eyes as he speaks, clearly just as bored with the rehashing of information the students have known since birth as the students themselves are. “Pay attention, or I will bring the sword back out, and I will not be kidding this time,” he snaps, glaring at some kids goofing off in the front. At their snickers and jeers, he continues, “or I can just guarantee your projects get the harshest critiques because you weren’t paying attention during the mandatory explanation, so surely your work will be flawless if you don’t think you need my input. If you want to come back here next year, that’s your prerogative.”

    Despite his own trembling nerves at the man he’d stood by not thirty minutes ago, Virgil can’t help but feel an impressed fearfulness at the guy. He certainly knows how to command a room, that’s for sure.

    “If you all would be so kind, please join me in welcoming to the stage Myjhyrrs Kenthykyrrn, Ryhanthyrri, and Kessyn-Syrru.” Myjhyrr Senthyirr steps to the left edge of the stage, making room for three more adults to step into the light.

    The willowy one, taller than anybody Virgil could remember seeing before and twice as thin, speaks first. Her braided brown hair sits atop her shoulder, spilling down to her waist. “I am Myjhyrr Kenthykyrrn, and I will be working with those of you intending to enter the Research Trytsu. I dearly hope you will not disappoint.” She casts a slow, deliberate once-over across the room, as if she has all the time in the world and then some.

    “Myjhyrr Ryhanthyrri, at your service.” Large in both size and demeanor, the one in the middle bows. “Of the Rehabilitate Trytsu.” He nods to the third and final person, letting them bow silently. “This here is Myjhyrr Kessyn-Syrru, and they’ll be representing the Resolute Trytsu.” They wave a hand at the growing thunder of applause—even as an advisor for TryMyts, they’ve evidently gained a following of students to favor them. Beside Virgil, Roman whoops loudly, cheering along with the crowd—no question which advisor he’ll be working with.

    As the three file offstage, presumably to pack up their rooms and leave before the students can clog the exits, Myjhyrr Senthyirr nods his thanks to them. “I was told to break down every last detail regarding the trials and tribulations of the TryMyts, but who here is genuinely confused?” Not one hand rises, with northing so small as a cough ringing in the silence. “That’s what I thought. In any case, projects are due at the end of the year, and you can speak to the advisor for your target Trytsu if you have questions. Your specific designated times for doing so will be during your final period, as that will function as your work hour for your TryMyts. If you want to cut school and leave early, or goof off, or whatever it is you all do for fun, that’s up to you, but in the end, it’s your chance at a Trytsu on the line. I get paid either way. See me if you’re having trouble selecting a Trytsu or you have general questions that need not bother the advisor of your target Trytsu. Be sure to give your decision, as well as your project, a considerable amount of thought. Run your ideas by whoever will be helping you through this process, plan ahead, all that fun stuff. Until tomorrow, class dismissed. And remember—choose wisely.” With that trademark close off about picking Trytsun in hand, Myjhyrr Senthyirr makes his graceful exit.

    Roman starts rambling about how excited he is to work with Myjhyrr Kessyn-Syrru, as well as ideas of how to sell his plan to his parents. Intentional or not, Virgil is grateful for the distraction from the horde of students trying to fit through doors far too small to handle all of them at once. On his other side, Virgil peers at Logan scrawling notes beside a remarkable portrait of Myjhyrr Kenthykyrrn. Patton appears to think the same, pointing out all the intricacies of the scratches from the pen in Logan’s hand. The latter tucks the paper in one of his books, ignoring the disappointed sigh from Patton.

    “Looks like pretty much everyone else cleared out. We good to go?” Roman steps into the aisle to let the other three out in front of him. As a group, they head for the door in an uneven line, Virgil lagging behind to glance at the stage where Myjhyrr Senthyirr remains, watching them leave with those piercing brown eyes. Virgil walks a little faster, welcoming the warm sun on his face as they finally leave behind the stale air of the building.

    “Do you intend to tell your father about transferring into Rehabilitate, then?” Logan asks, cocking his head toward Patton. “I would not be opposed to accompanying you home, should that lessen any blows you may receive, verbal or otherwise.”

    “I think it should be fine,” Patton says with a smile. Something in his voice tips Virgil off that he won’t be telling his dad, but Virgil isn’t about to out the guy. If Patton wants them to know, he’ll say so, but until then, it’s none of Virgil’s business. Virgil busies himself with picking at an eyelash stabbing at his eye to avoid Logan’s doubtful humming. “If we’re still on for tonight, I guess I’ll see you guys later!”

    “Later,” Logan echoes.

Chapter 2 / Masterpost / ao3

[misshowel-blog]

Zootopia - The Blue Wolf - Chapter 4 “A Lucky Break”

It felt like nothing was going anywhere. It'd been only a day since Nick left the ZPD and work had been extremely busy. It was almost as though she had an even heavier workload than before. Perhaps by design. Nevertheless, she needed to do her job, and she needed to do it well. Investigate vandalism and threats. Easy as pie. Right?

She'd arrive hopeful at the house of a threat-receiver and come away feeling forlorn. A lead on the vandalism would look promising but end up vaporising before her eyes. No headway what so ever. Judy kept trudging through interview after interview, asking all the right questions, following all the right leads yet getting nowhere. Even hearsay lead to dead ends. Gossip was old news. No one truly knew anything. She for sure didn't know anything. Nothing useful, at least.

Judy couldn't be entirely sure if there truly were no leads, or if she simply wasn't capable of digging them out when her mind was constantly working on Nicks' case. Tapping the butt of the carrot pen against her chin, her eyes fixated on the notepad in front of her. There was a small drawing of her fox friend with a whole load of question marks around him. Wearing a most serious expression, Judy strolled into the ZPD. Past Clawhauser who couldn't quite find the right words. Through a cafeteria of fellow officers, all unsure of how to greet her. All the way to her office, where she shut the door behind her and took a seat. The desk was crowded with reports, crime scene photos, photos of victims and their statements. Everything came along with little post-it notes where she'd scribbled down her thoughts and comments. Most were useless. Covered in question marks. So many question marks, so many questions.

"Ugh, I can't do this..!" Despite her best efforts, Judy simply couldn't focus on the task at hand. Dragging her palms down her face, she let out a frustrated groan. "I can't do this." Palms still attached to her face, she was pulling down her lower eyelids. Another groan escaped her before she sucked in a sharp breath, hands zipping over to grab the edge of her desk. "I need a break. Yeah, that's what I need." There was a bit of cheer in her voice as she seemed eager to convince herself that it was a-okay to ditch her current assignment. "Just a tiny one. No one will notice. Right?" Straightening out her clothes, she strained a smile. "Right." Throwing a glance at the desk, she drew a deep breath through her nose. A short pause. Hesitation. Then with a shrug and a small noise of dismissal, she was out the door.

It was already late afternoon, but Judy knew that the ZPD technical analyst rarely went home before dark. His office window would glow from the computer screens due to the lack of other light sources, one could hear the frantic tapping of keyboard keys and speedy clicks of the computer mouse through the door. There was a sign on his door proudly presenting "Kyle Filcher - Tech Wiz". Apparently it'd been changed once in celebration of his work aiding in the capture of a notorious crime syndicate, and no one had bothered to change it back to say "Kyle Filcher - Technical Analyst". Smiling at the sign, Judy then tried the handle on the door. Frowning, it was apparently locked this time around. Knocking gently, she kept watching the door. "Kyle? You in there?"

"Oh, Miss H- Judy!" Kyle seemed surprised to see her as he rounded the corner. He'd apparently been on his way back to his office after a quick stop at the cafeteria. He was carrying two large iced coffees with straws and had a rather puzzled look on his face, blinking a bit to clear his mind. "What, are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be working the leads on the vandalism..?"

"I am!" Judy smiled widely. Was she trying to convince him or herself? It wasn't obvious. "Or, well, not right now," She motioned at a portion of air which apparently represented the present. "but I am." Swiftly slipping her hands in behind her back and lacing them together, she kept that wide smile. "Soo," Weighing back on her feet a bit, she glanced curiously at the two cups in his hands. "You expecting company, Mr Tech Wiz?"

Kyle's nose seemed to shift from slate to a dark maroon as he fumbled to find words in a flustered manner. "Ah, well, no, and- tech wiz, that was just,- this is just,- I, don't really, get company, I just, really like iced coffee." The raccoon seemed a bit deflated, holding the two coffee cups close to his chest, embarrassed and staring at the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Judy's paws instinctively went up to cover her mouth. Her big, flapping mouth. "I'm sorry Kyle, I didn't mean to make it sound like that..!" Her ears had dropped and she frowned. Great. On top of being incompetent at her job, she'd made someone sad.

"You can have one if you want though." Kyle offered in passing as he shuffled up to the door, balancing the two cups on one arm while unlocking the door and opening it, letting it slide open. He couldn't muster up enough confidence to look at her. Instead, he moved over to his desk and took a seat, rolling his eyes at himself. Why would she want a cup of iced coffee. With him of all mammals.

Judy followed him into his office and then smiled, grabbing one of the cups and contently sipping it. "Thanks!" Her ears had perked back up, and she was glad to see that the raccoons' demeanor shifted as well, seeming a bit happier. A bit more uplifted. "How's everything going?"

Kyle took a great big sip from his iced coffee and swallowed, turning his computer on and watched the screen flicker to life. "It's going, well, a bit slow. Nick's not exactly an on-the-grid kind of mammal." He smiled as he could hear Judy's chuckle of agreement. "But, it's coming together, piece by piece. You know Finnick, right?" Throwing a glance at Judy, he caught her nodding, sipping from her iced coffee, and he turned back to the screen, pulling up a variety of windows with mazes of information. To an untrained eye, it was just several massive walls of tiny text and numbers. "Well, before he ran with Finnick, I've found old reports of him being arrested with a badger named Rufus Moundler. Apparently they were fined for swindling a couple of times."

Judy rolled her eyes briefly. "Has that fox ever done anything legal before he met me?" She caught Kyle's confused side-glance and snickered a bit. "Rhetorical question." Judy added with a quick smile before taking another sip of iced coffee, a concentrated look on her face. "So, what about this, Rufus guy?"

"Well it seems he got arrested for attempted murder through arson."

"Yikes." The word sounded through a sharp breath through her teeth, her ears dropping down behind her. They flipped back up again as she stared at Kyle with wide eyes. "You don't think Nick had anything to to with that, do you?" There was urgency in her voice. Attempted murder. Arson! It didn't sound like Nick, but if he'd been running with this badger..

"I, I don't know, Judy." He frowned, a bit uncertain if he wanted to start his next sentence. "In the reports, Mr. Moundler did say that he worked with a fox." He could see the distress on Judy's face and he quickly held up his paws as though to stop her from thinking her next thought. "But! But! That fox was named Pib! Not Nick. So, there's that!" Kyle offered a bit of a quivering smile, not wanting to see the bunny upset. He wasn't great at dealing with emotions, especially not those belonging to others. He was just always such a klutz and could never quite say the right thing when someone was upset.

Judy's initial alarm had simmered down to a focused contemplation. "Nick's middle name is Piberius." Her gaze returned to the yet again worried looking raccoon. "Nicholas Piberius Wilde." It would make sense for him to go by a fake name like Pib. It wasn't certain, but it was too much of a coincidence. She'd pulled out her notepad by now, scribbling down some thoughts. It was troubling to think that Nick could have been involved in such serious crimes. If he had, he should've told her. They were friends, weren't they? Or was there even more he'd kept hidden from her? Sighing deeply, she looked back at Kyle. The sight was enough to get a laugh out of her. Wide eyes, ears back, as if caught stealing cookies and worrying about his punishment. "Now why are you looking like that for?" She gave him a wide smile. "You look as if it's your fault Nick might be involved!"

"Sorry." He blurted out, taking a deep breath in an attempt to relax. "I just, wish I had better news for you. But, I don't."

Judy kept her smile and gave him a pat on the back. "Don't worry about it." Flipping to the next page of her notepad, she looked at him expectantly. "What was the name of the badger again?"

"Rufus Moundler."

Judy paused for a moment. Her forehead scrunched up in thought and she nibbled a bit on her carrot pen. The name sounded oddly familiar. "I think I've scheduled to interview a 'Moundler'." The words weren't louder than a mumble. Her volume picked up in the next sentence as she excitedly leaned over the desk, staring at the computer. "Could you cross-check the name Moundler with the list of threat-receivers and vandalism victims I got?"

Kyle blinked as Judy had gotten a bit in the way, looming over half of his keyboard. Reaching for it while trying not to touch her, Kyle swiftly danced his fingers over the keyboard, bringing up the list and highlighting one of the names. "Polly Moundler. Apparently she's Rufus Moundlers' younger sister."

"Polly Moundler." Judy gasped in delight and leapt back, bouncing slightly from foot to foot. "Polly Moundler, she's a badger! She's his sister! And I've scheduled to interview her in the morning!" Grinning widely, excited by this new lead and for the moment forgetting the implications of Nick involved in attempted murder, she rushed to the door and out, only to poke her head in a second later. "Thank you so much Kyle! Keep digging, you're doing a great job!"

Bursting into her office and kicking the door shut behind her, she couldn't help but allow herself to squeal happily. "I've got a lead!" Smiling widely, Judy yanked the bottom drawer of her desk open. Pulling out her personal file on Nick, she slapped it down onto the desk, on top of all the work she ought to be focusing on instead. "You sly fox, I'll find out what you're up to, just you wait." There was a cheeky tone to her voice as she teased the photo of Nick which she'd taped to the file. Following this lead, no one would know her focus wasn't the vandalism and threats. A lucky break. Perhaps it's the magic of her rabbits' feet finally kicking in. The thought made her snort out a giggle. Taking a deep breath, she sighed with a smile and sank into her seat. Observing the file in front of her, the smile soon faded and she leaned over the desk to begin writing.

"Connected to Rufus Moundler.

Possibly involved in attempted murder and arson."

Grim words written about a wonderful friend. It felt surreal. Like a bad mystery book. She could only hope that this story would have a happy ending.

The next day. It was a bright and sunny one. The air was still crisp from the cold of night. The walkway was cool against her paws as she stood in the shade, looking up at the building she was just about to enter. It was a fairly simple neighbourhood, one of the modest ones in Downtown Zootopia, bordering against Tundra Town. The house was humble and quaint. Perhaps in need of a bit of TLC. The paint on the window frames was peeling off. There was a thin layer of moss growing along the bottom of the yellow-painted wooden fasade. The garden needed a bit more tending to. That apple tree over there sure needed a trim. Not to mention the tulips, they needed a lot more sun than what they were currently getting, huddled in between a rickety old shed and tall wooden fence. Shaking her head, Judy let out a snort. She couldn't focus on botanical issues! There were far more important things that she needed to focus on. Giving herself two quick slaps on the cheeks with both hands, she then patted down her uniform, drew a deep breath, pulled a smile and rung the doorbell.

Her ears twitched as she could hear several locks clicking open. The rattle of a chain lock. Then the door was cracked open. "Hello?" Judy tried curiously, peering into the crack, laying her eyes on a small female badger. Smiling as gently as she could, her voice shifted to a very mellow and kind tone. "Hii, hello, are you by any chance Polly Moundler?" Her ears had lowered so that she wouldn't appear too energetic. This badger seemed a bit skittish. "I'm Officer Hopps, here about the threats you had received..? You should have received a letter about it.." They would have called, but Ms. Moundler did apparently not own a phone.

The badger frowned worriedly and then threw two quick glances around Judy, to check if she was alone. Then she somewhat reluctantly opened the door. "Come in." Her voice was but a whisper, as if she wasn't used to talking to others. Stepping to the side, she opened the door just enough for Judy to slip in. Closing the door, she promptly locked every single lock again. Even the chain lock. "I thought the ZPD just saw the letters as bad pranks." Polly moved to put on a kettle on her gas stove. She was perfectly average in every way - she'd blend into any crowd. Nothing about her stood out, except her demeanor. All the curtains were drawn, yet she moved to check that they were covering the windows properly. She seemed anxious. Worried.

"Well, since there's been a string of threats by now, we're taking a second look into things. Pranks or not, these letters are causing a lot of mammals distress." Judy explained, taking a seat on the old-fashioned and surprisingly comfortable sofa. A smile pulled at her lips as she patted the cushion and lightly bounced in her seat. Very comfortable. Her nose twitched as a cup of tea was presented to her. "Oh, thank you!" Smiling, she took a sip. It was fragrant and very pleasing. Perhaps orange blossom. A hint of vanilla? Perhaps. Regardless, it was a welcome treat. Looking over to Polly, who had her own rather large cup of tea, Judy placed the tea plate and cup in her lap. "May I see these letters you've received?"

Polly gave a nod, putting down her cup on the coffee table. She'd stored the letters in an old trunk in the corner of the living room. Gathering them up, she then returned, took her seat in the arm chair and handed the papers to Judy. "I don't know what good they'll do, but I kept them. Figured they'd at least make good kindle in a pinch.."

Judy giggled at the comment and was happy to see the badger smile for the first time, even if it was brief. "Thank you." Putting her cup and plate down, Judy shuffled through the letters. They weren't written, but instead put together rather attentively with cut out letters. Not even big ones from headlines, but instead ones from articles. It'd be practically impossible to track who'd written these, unless the paper was from some rare, super specific source. A theory she highly doubted. There were several letters, all most grim. How cruel some could be, threatening someone else's life like this. Threatening to gut them when they sleep, skin them alive.. Judy's nose crinkled up in disgust. These weren't pranks. These were serious. Most importantly, these were all signed. Not with a name or company, but with a phrase.

The sin of one is the sin of all.

Sin. Polly was related to someone who had most definitely sinned. "Polly, could I ask you about your brother, Rufus?" Judy posed the question carefully, not wishing to overstep her bounds. Polly seemed rather sad at the mention of her brother. "I'm sorry if it's inappropriate-"

"No, it's okay." Pollys voice was mellow and soft, her words spoken through a sigh as she stirred her tea. "Rufus has always been a troubled soul," she began, never lifting her gaze from the swirling amber liquid in her porcelain cup. "always getting into all sorts of trouble. Never cared much for others. Then he started hanging out with the wrong crowd, and things just.. Went downhill from there." Polly drew another sigh, taking a sip from the now quivering cup of tea. It was difficult, talking about her brother. Even after so long, it hurt so much. "Even though we lived in the same house, Rufus just told me vague bits and pieces about what he was doing. But I'm neither blind nor dumb. I knew he wasn't just doing the odd hustle. I knew he wasn't just picking pockets in the streets for some quick cash." Putting down the cup, she folded her hands in her lap, finally looking at Judy. "My brother was a criminal, and I never did anything to stop him."

Judy was taken aback by her comment and it took a moment before she could react, a determined look in her eyes. "Polly, this is not your fault. What Rufus did, the arson, it was his choice. You have to remember that." Polly didn't seem convinced, and Judy couldn't blame her. Somehow, she felt the same way about Nick. Why hadn't she done anything as soon as he'd changed? Had she been so preoccupied with hoping he'd sort it out himself, that she'd forgotten how to be a proper friend? Reminded of her own investigation, Judy inched closer to the edge of her seat. "Did Rufus ever talk about a fox named Pib?"

Polly searched her memories for a moment before nodding lightly. "Yes, actually he did. It was quite some years ago by now. Rufus had been looking for another pair of paws to.. Help him, for quite some time." Polly sighed at the discomfort of remembering her brothers' criminal affairs. "Anyway.. He came home one day, he was excited. Said he'd found a new partner, a clever fox named Pib. I even saw him a couple of times, when he came by the house. Only briefly, Rufus didn't like house-calls, because I was there. But he and Pib seemed to really get along. Thick as thieves..." The last sentence was just a displeased mumble. She took another sip of tea, her trembling hands having calmed down. "A few years back, Rufus was talking about testing what the fox was really made of. He was anxious, I could tell it was something big. He'd talk about how he was finally getting out of here, how this was his ticket out of the gutter."

"But don't you live pretty nicely?" Judy looked around the cosy little living room, ears perked in curiosity. She looked back at Polly as the badger let out an ever so light laugh.

"Well now I do. Not back then. I've worked very hard to get where I am." She smiled, relaxing more and more in the bunny's company. "So, he was excited about this big thing he was going to pull off. Said he'd finally get to work under 'the blue volf', I think he called it. Rufus was to eager to make a name for himself.... If only he'd chosen the right way to do it. But.. He chose infamy." Polly shook her head in disappointment, taking another sip of tea. "A few months after that, Rufus was in jail convicted for attempted murder and arson. I never heard of or saw that fox again." She'd sped through the sentence. It was said much like how one would rip off a bandage.

"This has been, extremely helpful, Ms. Moundler." Judy smiled widely, gathering up the letters in her hands and folding them neatly. "Thank you, so much for your help. And for the tea! It was delicious." Standing up, she offered her hand to the badger. "And don't worry, we'll find whoever sent you these horrible letters. They'll answer for what they've done."

Polly took Judy's hand, giving it a gentle shake. "I hope you do, Officer Hopps. I hope you do."

Travelling back to the ZPD, Judy had a lot on her mind. The blue wolf. It had to be a specific mammal, not a group or organisation. Rufus had done what he did in order to impress said mammal.. Or well, wolf, it was most likely a wolf. Blue wolf? Perhaps blue was referring to eye color. That would narrow down the search a smidgen at least. She had to sort this all out. Nick had really been involved. Not just a little. Not just by accident. It just made no sense. Nick had never struck her as a violent fox. What was he up to? She had to get to the bottom of this, pronto. Perhaps Kyle could find something.

Judy was in such a hurry through the ZPD lobby that she didn't register the sound of footsteps around the corner, nearly knocking straight into their new press manager. "Ah! Oh gosh, Ms. Howell, I'm so sorry!" Judy raced her eyes across the albino wolf to make sure she hadn't made the other drop anything. "Are you alright? Sorry, I was just in such a hurry,"

"Don't worry about it Officer Hopps." The warm tone of the wolf's voice put Judy at visible ease. "I quite honestly am half to blame, my head's not been on straight since all the commotion of Officer Wilde's departure." Smiling down at the little rabbit, she held her paperwork close to her chest. "I do hope you can sort this whole mess out, Judy. It would be such a shame if Nick didn't come back."

Judy's ears perked up and she felt rather warm inside. Encouragement. Grinning, she saluted the wolf. "Don't worry, Rosalind! You'll see, I'll have this all sorted out in a jiffy!" Feeling rejuvenated, Judy headed on down towards Kyle's office. At least she had some mammals eager to see Nick back where he belonged. As a part of the team. She wasn't the only one who found this whole situation odd. With renewed energy, Judy all but kicked the door to Kyle's office open. It banged back against the wall and startled him enough to almost spill his cup of iced coffee. Gasping, Judy grabbed the door and quickly, yet gently shut it behind her. Giving the bewildered raccoon an apologetic smile, she laced her hands together behind her back. "Heh. Sorry about that."

Kyle raised an eyebrow at her, looking a bit confused. "Is this going to become a habit of yours? You can knock, you know." There was a slight and gentle tease in his voice.

Judy let out a huff of a chuckle, pawing dismissively at the air as she approached his desk. "Oh please! I knocked last time, remember? You weren't even in then." Judy grinned and sat on the arm rest of his computer chair, locking eyes with him. Her expression was intense. "You have to find out who 'the blue wolf' is. That wolf might be the key to finding out what's going on with Nick."

Kyle's ears flicked back, flattening against his head as he stared up at her, a bit caught of guard by how close she was. Had she no sense of personal space? "Ehh.." Swallowing tightly, Kyle then sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, his eyes diverting to the screen, trying to find some words. "That's, not a whole lot to go on, Judy, it, might be a bit difficult to find anything at all, or, I find too much, and, it's all a tangled mess, and then I can't give you anything useful, and, and-"

"Relax," She said with a laugh. "Gosh, all that iced coffee is making you so high-strung. Have you ever tried tea? It's supposed to be calming." Judy smiled at the raccoon, holding onto the back of his seat to keep her balance on the arm rest. "Well, Polly said 'the blue wolf' in some weird accent, like that was how Rufus had said it." She frowned, mimicking accents wasn't exactly her forte. But she could always give it a try. "Zhe blu wolfe- no, that's not right." Humming in thought, she then gave it another try. "The blue volf- yeah that's more like it! It definitely had more of a v sound than a w one." She gave Kyle an excited look, eager to know what he thought of the accent.

Kyle frowned, turning his eyes to the screen again. "Well, I suppose it could be Sibearian."

"Sibearian! Wow. So far away. Kyle, could you search the phrase? Extend your search from Zootopia to include Sibearian, Scandiclawian and Eurate countries as well? For good measure. We don't want to miss anything!"

"Judy, that's, a very wide net to search..!" Kyle felt his nose heat up as he could see Judy only inches away from him through the corner of his eye. Clenching his jaw shut, eyes widely staring at the computer screen, his entire body was stiff lika a statue. Personal space. Oh gosh. No personal space. Why didn't she have any sense of personal space?

"Please, please, please Kyle!" She laced her hands together as if praying to him. Which in a way, she was. At least begging. "This could be the only one who can help us find out what's going on..!"

Kyle sucked in a deep, far too deep breath and exhaled it with a bit of a squeak. "Okay!" He swallowed. Gosh his throat was dry. It felt like his entire face was on fire. "Okay, okay, I'll, get onto it right away."

"Thank you!" Judy wrapped her arms around the awkward raccoon in a quick but almost choke-hold hug around the neck before hurrying towards the door. "I'll be back!"

Hopping through the corridors, it felt good. This was getting somewhere. Her investigation wasn't a complete failure. Now she had another task in front of her; ask follow-up questions to only those who had received threats similar to the ones delivered to Polly.

[asmallpinkfan3]

woah woah WOAH, you write for toh too?? Didnt know thay holy cow

ANYWAYS, could i request a hunter x gn witch reader who is literally death straight up like in pib: tlw (appears to be a teenager and cannot change that, but age is immortal)

itd be funny because hunter is in his wolf phase and then he meets reader who is the embodiment of death as a wolf

maybe a little angst because reader has met every other version of hunter/caleb but is unable to take their souls to rest because of phillip :((

love ur stories stay hydrated <33

Awww poor hunter but ofc.

Also i didn’t know if you wanted romantic or platonic so I’m gonna go with platonic.

Hunter x reader who is the embodiment of death.

Song I listened to on repeat while writing this:paint it -black Rolling Stones.

Warnings: small angst of reader not being able to take hunters soul, swearing

You were always called to take souls but one stood out from the rest.

Hunter, or as known as the golden guard was not able to have his soul taken.

You saw how his brother murdered him and when you went to take his soul his body was no where to be found.

Cursing under your breath you needed to find him and his soul before something bad happens.

Soon when you found his soul it was no longer there it was made into something for evil.

“Shit this is bad”. You mumbled to yourself as the golden guard stood beside Phillip.

Even after all of the ‘deaths’ of the past golden gaurds you still desperately wanted to set his soul free instead of being trapped.

So when hunter came along and found out the truth you felt a sort of relief thinking maybe now he could be free, wether it be living this life out as someone else, not the golden guard.

You saw how him and the others connected, he seemed happier with them instead of being threatened constantly for a slight mistake.

You wanted to end belos for all the pain he cause his own brother.

So when him and the hexsquad were sent to the human realm you followed just to make sure that he was gonna be ok.

After a couple of weeks you saw how he got better and seemed much more happier.

One day you were near by watching him see and he mentioned that he liked wolves to Gus his eyes wide with sparkle.

You took the chance and walked up to him while he was in the bathroom putting a bandage on a. Cut he had got on his wrist from getting scratched from amitys cat.

“Hunter.” You got his attention and he turned at the unfamiliar voice.

His eyes widened at you, you were a wolf after all how did you know his name?

He stumbled back, “h-how do you know my name”? He asked his hands grabbing onto the sink behind him. You put your paws up.

“I’m not here to hurt you hunter”. You said, your eyes soft and a small smile.

He furrowed his brows in confusion, “then what are doing here”? He asked desperately wanting to know.

“I just wanted to talk, I’ve seen all of your previous deaths and I can never seem to collect your soul”. You explained and his eyes went wide with confusion and fear.

We’re you gonna collect his soul now? You took the silence as a shock and continued.

“I’m the embodiment of death meaning I end peoples timer of life”. You said and he slowly let go of the sink.

“And I’m not here for your soul, i promise”. You added slowly putting your paws down.

“So your a wolf that’s the embodiment of death and your not here to collect my soul and you just want to talk”? He questioned.

You nodded and he slowly walked closer to you, you gave him a small smile and ruffled his hair.

“Wait you won’t tell the others I’m a grimwalker right”? He asked panicking you shook your head.

“No they don’t even know I’m here”. He breathed a sigh of relief and heard Willow calling his name.

“Hey I think Willow needs you I’ll talk to you later”. You said and he passed by you to the bathroom doorway.

“See you around hunter”. He turned back to you and smiled.

“See you around..” he didn’t even know your name.

“Y/n or death”. You answered.

“Right see you y/n”! He yelled walking to Willow.

Ok so I genuinely didn’t know where to go for this.