#cat's writing

[catinasink]

Song-Resembling Thing

maybe I'm misinterpreting things again

oh maybe I am

maybe I'm tryna make something outa nothing

oh maybe I am

yeah maybe I am

i think there might be something wrong

inside

I think there might be something wrong

with my mind

something mighta done it

something mighta pushed me over the edge

but I don't know what real or what's fake

all I know's this could be another big mistake

yeah okay

maybe I'm just another love drunk fool

oh maybe I am

maybe I've deluded myself, am I lovable?

oh maybe I am

yeah maybe I am

i think there might be something wrong

inside

i think there might be something wrong

with my mind

something mighta done it

something mighta pushed me over the edge

but I don't know whats real or whats fake

all I know is that this could be another big mistake

your dark red hair, your brown eyes

somehow they remind me of

her blonde hair, her blue eyes

somehow they remind me of

her black hair, her dark eyes

somehow they remind me of

her dark hair, her dark eyes

yeah somehow they remind me of

somehow they remind me of you

i think there might be something wrong

inside

i think there might be something wrong

with my mind

something mighta done it

something mighta pushed me over the edge

but I dont know whats real or whats fake

all I know is that this could be another big mistake

maybe

just maybe

it's not me it's you

maybe

just maybe

I can't help but love you

maybe

just maybe

it's not me it's you

maybe

just maybe

I just can't lose you

[rustingcat]

love Lena's Space Log and your illustrations for it! do you read the chapters early and choose a scene to draw? or are you given a moment without context? so curious about how y'all collab!

Thank you so much darling😘

It depends on how much @mycatismyeditor managed to write in advance. I usually asked for the next one after finishing a piece and would get anything between a full chapter to a sentence with a general idea and a date (depends on how much in advance I asked it). Regardless, I choose the moment to draw based on what I got, which why sometimes I get a super early draft and get creative. When I do, Cat would actually add it to the fic itself which is really sweet of them (like the case of noodles Ripley, Ripley joining girl's night, Alex flipping the bird, and so on). Since we're close to the end, I currently have all the remaining dates with the basic idea of each chapter, and Cat sends me the advanced draft when they can.

For anyone who hadn't, go read this fantastic fic! And, of course, the best way to enjoy each chapter is with the companion art piece;)

Thank you for asking and taking an interest in our process. This project has such a special place in my heart, and I'm always thrilled to talk about it♥️

[coolcattime]

An Outro to Mistwalker College [An OC Story]

Hi hi hi!

Welcome to the what is hopefully the first of a few different OC pieces I want to write in the world of Libris! This piece is co-authored by my friend @theiratlas, featuring our OCs, in our OC-verse world of Libris! Our OC-verse is D&D inspired, but doesn't follow official D&D lore (or really the rules), but most of our OCs are originally TTRPG characters of some sort!

I really hope you enjoy reading this piece, and if you have any questions, I'd love to answer them as I love to info dump about mine and Atlas' OCs (and they do too!) and would love to share more about Libris as well!

Characters: Medli Mistwalker (water genasi whispers bard), Idric Ba'lor (tiefling glamor bard), Anastasia Gulp (merfolk light cleric)

Addition Tags/Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Knife Wound, Blood and Injury, Descriptions of Violence, Drowning, Being Chased/Hunted, Impaired Mental State Due to Injury, Unconsciousness, Near Death, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Found Family, Running Away

Description: In the dark and fog, a bloody and battered student runs through the night, hoping to get off the island she'd known as home for her whole life before she ends up dead.

AO3 Link

Medli ran. Stumbling towards the docks, she clung to what little belongings she had managed to grab in her loop back to the dorms. The school’s fog and darkness made her all the more paranoid of where he could be now. Her mind leap to the pool, at least that's where she last knew where he was but, he could be anywhere by now. She was so sure he was still following her, that he wasn't going to stop following her unless she could find a way off the island.

Somehow escaping was the only thing her mind could grab but was that even possible? While Medli might be a strong enough swimmer, she couldn't exactly swim to the mainland, even if she wasn’t currently bleeding through her shirt. That left one plan, pray to see a ship, preferably one that didn’t belong to the college, and then stowaway, stay hidden long enough that it'll be more trouble to turn back. It was barely enough to be called a plan, more a desperate shaking hope in the mind of one currently terrified for their life.

So, she continued fleeing, with more panic than reason in her mind. She didn't want to die and that meant she had to keep running. It had been made very clear that only one of them was going to be alive by the end of the night, so, if she wasn't going to kill anyone and she didn’t want to die then she needed to get off Mistwalker and she’d need to do it quickly.

Sprinting between buildings she knew would make it a straight shot, catching little landmarks on the edge of the fog, she was, for once, thankful for having grown up here. Of course, she still worried that she was headed the wrong way, it wasn’t really possible to tell until she ran into something, doubt like that however couldn't take up space, not when so much of her was already cracking. Her head might be as foggy as her surroundings, but that fog was almost entirely fear, but that fear was pretty much the only thing keeping her moving, so she made peace with it.

Somewhere in the fog, he had to be hunting her. And she had no idea how well he could navigate the fog. Maybe not as well as her, she’d lost him in the fog before, but can't be sure she can do that again, not in this state. She had to just hope he was somewhere far away and would stay that way until she was gone, long gone. That kind of hope struggled against the weight of a terrified fear though. Afterall he was just as likely to be a few steps behind her as he was to be back at the college.

The sound of cobblestones turning to wood underneath her sandals was at least at little reassuring. However, her already shaky movements felt completely unstable on a damp surface. She had always been clumsy, and her current state wasn’t doing wonders keeping her upright. She wasn’t sure exactly how injured she was, but her whole body felt like it was shutting down. She could feel blood flow slowing but she wasn't sure if that’s actually a good sign or not. It did, at least, make breathing out of her torn gills a little easier though no less unpleasant. The right side of her back, however, was only aching more and more as she kept going, courtesy of the stab wound she was quickly realising must’ve been a lot deeper than it seemed.

The other injuries started to blend together, but there was no doubt they were slowing her down.

She was gonna last until she was off the island, wasn’t she? She felt doubt flooding into her cuts as she stumbled over her own feet once more, this time barely managing to push herself back up and grab what she’d dropped.

She did her best to push all the thoughts to the back of her mind, if only so she could instead focus on seeing what's in front of her. She was already on the docks, there was no point thinking anything at all when she could be so close to safety.

She looked desperately around for a ship, anything with easy access. There were always at least a few ships scattered on the dock, but usually those were just the ones owned by the college and she absolutely could not risk getting on one of those. Now she thought of it, it began to be hard to tell if she was even really seeing ships or just making things out of blurry shapes in the dark. Could this be as far as she goes?

No, there had to be at least one real ship, something she could sneak on board, something to give her the start she needed. So, Medli began to run once more, her heart pounding with every passing moment as she could've sworn the footsteps echoing weren't just hers, that his yells would be close behind.

She couldn't keep doing this, she had to check to see if her fate was truly sealed. She scoured her extremely limited view for any signs at all, of anything.

Then, she tripped.

In a moment of flailing panic, she assumed that was the end of the docks and she was about to take a fall into the ocean and lose what little bearings she had. But instead, her nose met with the hard wooden surface of the docks. Before a sob could even escape her quaking frame, she looked back, she realised what she had tripped over and began howling with laughter. Terrified, anxious laughter, but laughter all the same. She’d tripped over a gangplank.

She scrambled up it, half-crawling for the first few seconds, she didn’t care about getting to her feet nearly as much as getting on board the ship. Maybe staying low was for the best anyway as, when she got on deck, a lamp was lit. Someone was still on board, obviously someone was still on board why else would a gangplank still be out?

The idea of being caught by people actually on the ship was not quite scary enough to actually have an effect on her decision making at this point. If she was caught, she'd just have to talk her way out of it, whoever found her couldn't possibly have more worse intentions than where she came from. Though she did still instinctively slow her movements as she approached a door, it was definitely still better to hide without being caught. If they were already at sea by the time they caught her, then she might actually be safe.

She didn't know the exact layout of the ship, but descending stairs quickly led her to what in the darkness her eyes could just barely process as the hold.

Huh, that was odd. Normally she could see in the dark, but right now everything felt dark and blurry. She… she was probably just tired from running. That was the best self-soothing she could manage. She still needed a place to hide. There were barrels, that's where people normally hide themselves away on ships, right? That thought made as much sense as anything else right now. Honestly, now she had stopped running her head felt a little too heavy for thinking things through. Hiding in a barrel had to be enough. She just needed to find a mostly empty one.

Medli would explore the hold, eventually finding one empty enough for her to climb inside, her hastily packed bag pushing down on her chest and legs. She didn't remember it being so heavy.

Then, she blacked out.

If she hadn't, Medli may have realised she was not well hidden, more than a few of her belongings had spilt out across the docks when she fell and the lid of the barrel that she was holed up in didn’t rest anywhere near how it should.

All of that would prove to be far more of a blessing than a curse as Medli slipped into a state where, without help, she would slip away before she woke.

Up on deck, a crew member walked across the well-kept wood. The merfolk kept her way lit by an esca hanging down from the front of her head. The matching sharp teeth and slightly overlarge mouth of an angler fish on a humanoid face made her a striking sight especially in the dark.

She looked down, panning her eyes across the dock that they had currently anchored at, attempting to figure out what the commotion even could have been. She didn't see anything but as she looked over, she saw the door below deck ajar and groaned louder than even she thought possible.

The damn kids of this academy. Well, at least this time she won't be dealing with them alone. So, with another frustrated sigh, she headed out. Gunning towards the hole-in-the-wall tavern the rest of the crew had disappeared to, hoping to grab whichever was the least drunk to help her throw out whichever idiot students had decided to mess around on the ship.

* * *

Idric Ba'lor looked almost amused as he picked up a violin’s bow, seemingly dropped and abandoned by the side of his ship. It was at least the sixth completely random item he had come across in the walk across the dock, though a bow without an instrument was by far the dumbest. He reached down, keeping one arm steady and elevated, for it held the tiefling’s prize possession, a wine glass that would somehow remain full no matter how many slips he took from it.

Eyeing the bow once more, he twirled it in between his fingers for a second more, before turning sharply to face his merfolk compatriot.

“You’re definitely right, it’s got to be one of the students,” He remarked, trying to not sound as thoroughly annoyed as he was by that statement. The students of Mistwalker College were, to put it lightly and precisely, a bunch of utter pricks. Some of them were fine, obviously, but working a market stall for them was hellish and this wouldn’t be the first time some of them had boarded the ship to make nuisances of themselves. At the very least they should be easy to scare off and now he gets a spare violin bow out of it.

He shoved the bow into one of his pockets as he spun up back to his full height, wine sploshing wildly but never spilling as he did.

He cocked his head toward his newest crew member with the same cocky smile that became typical in moments of confusion such as these.

“You didn’t see how many got on, did you Anastasia?”

“No, just heard some crash and then saw the way below deck open,” She replied with a shrug. She doubted it could be more than one or two, she hadn’t heard talking or anything like that, but she couldn't be too certain. Idric took her words as good enough, hiding a grimace at the thought of having to deal with more than a handful of these bastards. He wondered if they were planning to try and steal anything but shook it off with a long swig of his wine. When he finished, he rolled his shoulders and took a confident step onto the gangplank.

“Well, no time like the present,” He said as if he was actually looking forward to this. He strode up to the deck, briefly checking behind him to make sure that Anastasia was following him and then paused at the top, leaning back on a railing until she was once again next to him. Then, he finally, subtly spat out a thought he'd been chewing on, “I thought you were heading to bed, you know, since you didn't come to the bar with us.”

“Oh, I was invited to that?” She mumbled out genuinely, stopping her movement all at once. Idric’s face lit up at her utter bewilderment.

“Of course you were invited, you're a part of the crew now Gulp,” He said gesticulating wildly. Anastasia blinked twice, almost totally lost in Idric's puzzled expression, but she filed that knowledge away for future use regardless and started moving once more. Idric, however, still found himself more than a little concerned, this was his ship after all, and she was the newest member of the crew. Despite the fact she’d never left an invite unattended, without one she'd ignore it with a genuine disbelief that she was invited. Or worse still, Anastasia had the frustrating habit of playing the role of an outsider any chance she got.

All of this was starting to get at The Balor’s captain. Was she not comfortable with the group? Did she not want to be a part of all this after all? She seemed totally at home reading the waves, at the navigator’s desk, or even just diving off the side of the ship to collect whatever random thing Kildrax dropped this time, but there had to be something or at least, the wine thought so. After a slightly too long gap, Idric continued. “And if you are ever confused about that kind of thing then you can just ask.”

“Ah, okay. Why did we come to this shithole?” Anastasia asked without missing a beat. Idric laughed sharply. He was used to asking himself that kind of question every time they had to sail the ship through that same bitter fog every time they came here, it only made things worse whenever in storms like these.

Of course, there was an answer, though given that this was Anastasia's first trip to Mistwalker she couldn't be expected to know it yet. As far as she was concerned, they'd come to an island full of annoying, full of themselves students in terrible weather, an island that not a single member of the crew could mention without grimacing.

“I have a friend here, actually! A couple years younger than us. Unfortunately, she lives here. Well until she can be persuaded to move literally anywhere else, I come here to visit her,” He said, half joking though he did sincerely wish that he didn't need to keep coming to this island. A wish that burned even clearer in his mind as the two descended below deck and the only thing out of place was a knocked over lantern by the stairs.

Really? Was it not good enough for the students to unsuccessfully try to steal from him during the day? Well, at least this whole ordeal wasn't as much effort on his part. He loudly drew his flail, dangling it in his free hand, carefully stomping his way down the stairs. Under the sound of his jackboot against the stairs, he quickly looked back at Anastasia, whispering. “I'm only planning to scare them, using a weapon against the kids isn't a great look after all. But if you could stand by the stairs and grab any that try to run off with stock that'd be wonderful.”

Anastasia nodded, mocking out a rugby guard.

Idric descended down into the darkened hold. The room seemed devoid of people, there was no obvious noise or signs of movement. Maybe they'd left when Anastasia had come to retrieve him, but if that was the case, they surely should have passed each other on the way back. Even if there was no one, it was still a good idea to give the place a once over, just to be sure. He walked around the crates and barrels, wine glass held tighter than his weapon, looking between gaps and listening out for any movement beyond his own.

Then, when he finally spotted it, he merely sighed.

“I'll give you five seconds to climb out of there on your own,” He barked, piercing through the silence with audible disappointment. There was absolutely no response, no talking back or even shuffling against wood.

Apparently, they wanted to do this the hard way. Annoying, but certainly within their rights. Well, if they weren't going to get themselves out of the situation, someone still had to. “Fine, since you'd prefer the kicking and screaming method.”

He strode forwards, barely taking five seconds to reach the barrel. Even without taking the lid fully off, he could see the shape of a person though no actual clear details. Whoever it was, they had guts, even with him looming over them, they managed to remain completely still. Actually, given Anastasia's hypothesis, perhaps they had passed out from whatever cheap booze they found a way of getting hold of. Not that it mattered, either way he needed them out. He slid the lid off with tail, beginning to talk before it clattered to the ground.

“I'm sure this has been very fun for you, but this isn't somewhere you can just-- Medli?!” He caught himself halfway through, a lump in his throat the size of the lid he just tossed. Inside the barrel was the unmistakable form of Medli Mistwalker. Of all the people he expected to find, she was perhaps below even the very bottom of the list. Yet there she was, head resting awkwardly on a backpack, apparently still asleep.

Of course, he wondered why exactly she was stuffed into a barrel, if she'd asked to leave, she would’ve been in a bed by now and they’d be halfway to the next port. She did occasionally have a strange way of thinking and an odd sense of humour - maybe she just fancied being a stowaway. He ruffled her hair. “Rise and shine kid, we'll get you a proper room, shall we?”

Medli did not even stir, a fact that at first was just odd. But then, as he lifted out the backpack, became so much more.

Idric's wine glass hit the floor loudly, with the wine staining through the wood immediately. Every thought he could try and manage left him instead with a white-hot static.

“Anastasia! Get over here now!” His throat immediately went hoarse. “We need help!”

The sound of running and several orbs of light filled the room as Idric scooped Medli's body out the barrel. Blood had totally soaked through her clothes, worse it was cold and dry, an incredibly bad sign. He fumbled to check her pulse, his own thudding in his ears making the task far harder than it should be. He'd barely managed to find it, to actually confirm his friend was still alive before Anastasia was kneeling next to him, muttering words and pressing a hand to Medli's arm as light flowed down from her lantern into the wounds. The bleeding stopped. Her breathing slowly began to clear. She didn't wake up, but she was going to live and that much allowed Idric's blind panic to shift into a far more coherent anger.

It was not an obvious anger, but it was there, just festering under the surface as he held Medli, a small teenager, battered and bruised in his arms.

Someone had tried to kill his friend.

That much was plainly obvious, she didn't get a stab wound from tripping over. It did, however, leave the question of why she had ended up in a barrel in the hold of his ship. Had it just been a coincidence? Someone dumping the evidence of a crime in a ship that would leave the island sooner rather than later. Or has someone intentionally tried to frame him by hiding his dying friend somewhere she might not be found until it was too late. He had no idea which was closer to the truth, only a certainty that someone had done this on purpose in the first place and that was more than enough to leave a familiar cold anger burning inside him.

Anastasia was still looking over the two with concern. For Medli, the reason for concern was obvious. Her magic was still new and something she had no idea the origin of. Though it had clearly helped, she thought it best to check her work. She didn't exactly trust it all just yet. Idric however, well, perhaps she didn't need to be worried about him, but seeing him with emotions like that, threatening to swallow him whole, she couldn't help herself from it.

Idric was a charming young man. He was a merchant and a bard after all, being charming was pretty much a requirement. However, he was also fully capable, and often willing, of being completely terrible. Now, to be very clear, Anastasia had never seen his anger taken out on someone who didn't deserve it, but that didn't mean it couldn’t happen. He may have said earlier that using a weapon against a kid wasn't a good look, but with the way his hand seemed to be resting on that flail handle, she questioned if that would be in his head if another student had done this.

And Idric thought about it, thought about storming into the college and just hurting people until he found the culprit. And it would feel good, and it would feel right at the current moment. It wasn't as if that harpy queen in charge wouldn't gladly break every bone in his body given the shot. It would mean leaving Medli though, and that was the last thing he felt like doing right now. Though the desperate need to hit something wasn't going away, he wasn't going to leave her alone until he knew she was alright. He picked up his wineglass once more and began twirling it in his fingers. He wished it was still full, but the movement helped to quell his want to hurt someone.

“Okay… okay!” He turned the stem quickly between his fingers, almost throwing it before thinking better of the idea. He needed to have a coherent thought, to actually think of what to do, but all he could think was that Medli had nearly died. He wasn't going to calm down, he knew he wasn't. He looked at Anastasia. “Go get the others, will you? I'm gonna take her to my room, but I need a minute.”

“Oh! Of course,” She stood up, beginning to walk towards the stairs, but pausing. She didn't quite know what exactly she should say, but that didn't stop her from trying. “And she'll be alright. I mean, she's clearly a fucking fighter, so she'll wake up in no time.”

Idric just nodded, not confident enough to verbally reply. And Anastasia left. He remained on the floor clutching Medli scared that if he let go of her; she'd just stop. He remained for a minute, until he was actually convinced that she wasn't going to suddenly drop dead. He stood, properly scooping Medli up to carry her to his room. He scooped her backpack onto his shoulder and picked out her violin from the barrel. He'd give her a room later, assuming she stayed, which he really hoped she did, but for now his room was fine. She just needed somewhere safe to sleep.

* * *

Medli’s body hurt. That was her first thought as she woke up, which wasn’t exactly a weird situation for her to wake up in by this point. Enough so that she didn’t actually move for a couple of minutes, happy and warm in bed having not had a nightmare for once. Then the sharp memories of what she was doing before falling asleep, or more accurately blacking on, came to mind, and she shot up. A sharp pain shot through her back, a small squeak escaping her mouth as she tried to cover her own exclamation of pain. She panicked, wondering how she’d been found and taken back to her own bed, what that would even mean for sure.

Then she realised where she actually was.

Or rather she realised where she wasn’t. She wasn’t somehow back in her room in the dorms of Mistwalker College, nor was she in the barrel she had climbed into. She was in a room that felt vaguely familiar, though she was sure in her fuzzy thoughts that it was somewhere safe. A bedroom lit by a flickering lantern on a bedside table next to her, one that she was completely sure was not a room in the college. The only places she would have woken up in the college are her own room or the sick room. So, was she still on the ship? She wasn’t sure if that made sense or not.

She forced herself to her feet, feeling wobbly but probably fine to at least check outside the door. Her body ached as she moved, though not as much as she thought it would have, now her back felt more like it was hit with a baseball bat as opposed to having been stabbed through. That felt like an improvement, even if she couldn't explain it.

As she approached the door, she could hear conversation on the other side. She tried to pick out any specifics, but the wooden walls muffled the words out into static. She took a breath. They were almost definitely talking about her, but that wasn't going to change, and just because they were talking about her, didn't mean that they were discussing something like throwing her overboard or returning her back. She'd just worry herself by thinking that way.

She cracked the door open, more than she needed to look through, but not enough to step through. The conversation was now properly audible to her, but she suddenly couldn’t pay much attention to it, instead the people she saw instead soaked into her mind.

Of the four, there was only one that she had absolutely no recognition of - a woman that Medli snap-decided looked as cool as she did mildly horrifying. She was blue and certain parts of her glowed in the dim light, most notably an angler fish's lantern hung down from the very top of her forehead. She had a long, thick tail that remained Medli of the kind a shark would have, but she also has legs, though they also reminded Medli of the type of legs a shark might have if made humanoid -- not that that really made any sense.

Two she recognised vaguely, a dwarf and water genasi man who she had seen around the docks before. Not often, they definitely didn't work on Mistwalker, but just whenever the markets happened to be in town. To be fair, she didn't go to the docks very often besides that, but it wasn't until now that she actually realised why that fact was true as, though his back was turned to her, she instantly recognised the last person in the group.

“Idric?” She asked, opening the door a little more and taking a hesitant step out onto what she now realised was the deck of The Balor. Idric turned on his heel to look at her, oversized coat spinning out in the same way a dancer's skirt would. And there he was, her best friend, the anger and worry he felt concealed behind as gentle a smile as he could muster. Medli felt all the relief in the world flood through her.

“Is this why you called us all here? You got a new girl?”

“She's seventeen,” Idric quickly cut across the dwarf's question with a sharpness both in his tone and the snap of his head in that direction. The quickness of this shift was matched by the quickness of the horror where there had previously been humour in the dwarf's eyes upon hearing the words. Medli felt a little unsure if she should do or say anything, shifting her weight between her feet as she fiddled with the edge of her shirt, acutely aware that she looked a mess. Everyone was staring at her. She couldn't tell if that was good or bad. She tried to focus on Idric, who was over again looking at her. “You should really rest, kid, you've had a rough night. I'll be through in a minute.”

Medli for a moment hesitated to move, worried about what was being said, but she trusted Idric. He wasn't gonna suggest throwing her into the ocean or taking her back to the college. So, with a tiny little nod of her head, she shuffled back into the room. She realised, with a little embarrassment, that this was Idric's room. To be fair, she had only been in it briefly, but she still felt a little silly for not realising straight away. Well, at least she could feel safe in it now.

The last unmuffled thing she heard before she properly shut the door was a very hurried apology, which she wasn't really listening to. She had much more serious things to think about, but worrying about too much of it was going to make her head hurt. So, she tried to only think of one problem at a time, all-while continuing to listen to the muffled noise outside the room as some kind of grounding method. First thing: her clothes were covered in blood. Looking around, her backpack was sitting on a desk alongside her violin and bow. Did she pack an actual outfit? It had been such a rush that it kind of blurred together and she really couldn't remember. She knew most of the contents of her bag were clothes, but she might've been panicked enough that she'd only grabbed skirts or something. Hopefully she had packed at least one shirt though, else she was stuck with bloodstains.

She opened her backpack, and she began to dig through. Clothes weren't the first thing she pulled out, but rather a thin blanket that she immediately clutched to her chest as she realised how lucky it was that she hadn't been wearing it, that it hadn't been bloodstained or damaged. She bunched it between her fingers, trying to remind herself that she didn't need to be scared anymore. No one was going to get her here. She tried to reassure herself like that, clutching her blanket close to her chest as a safety beacon, but it was hard. She needed to get off the island, then she'd be safe.

“Hey,” Idric said as he entered the room to find her standing rigid. He moved closer to her carefully, knowing how overwhelming the situation must already be. Medli tried to find the words to explain what she felt because she didn't have any. Everything was wrong. She couldn't cry. She couldn't do anything but stand scrunching her blanket trying to calm down. Her chest hurt. She wanted to cry. Idric stood in front of her. Was he going to yell at her? Was she a bad person for thinking her friend would yell at her? Her throat felt tight. Tears were stinging at the corners of her eyes. Idric hugged her. Medli began to cry. “It's okay. It's okay.”

It wasn't okay. Someone had tried to kill her. He couldn't even hug her as tightly as he wanted because of all the injuries. What else was there to say though? It somehow being okay now was the only comfort that really could be given. Medli sobbed. She felt safer in this moment than she had at most points in her life. Eventually Medli ended up sitting on the bed and Idric dragged over the desk chair to sit across from her.

Bruises had started to form on Medli's blue skin. While all her cuts and the more major stab wounds had been closed, dried blood still clung to her skin, some even matted in her blue hair. She felt gross. She looked a mess. Looking at Idric felt like a lifeline into normality. Same white messy hair, same twirling pretty horns in sea-shell-white, with one broken off and dangling around his neck on a cord. His eyes were probably the same too, but she was desperately avoiding looking at them.

“What happened, Meds?” Idric broke the silence softly as he was able. He felt that he already knew the answer to his question, enough of the answer was plainly obvious, but he needed to know what she felt comfortable sharing, if anything. Medli looked down at her knees, still bunching and lacing her blanket between her fingers. Her throat felt too tight to say words, but she did want to tell Idric. How was she even meant to start though?

“I… Clarissa. She said I had to do a test,” Medli started, her voice wavering as anxiety and a want to break down laced into her tone. Idric tensed almost immediately at even her name, though forced himself to remain quiet. She didn't need a rant about the absolute horror-story that ran the school, not right now. Medli didn't want to talk about the ‘test’ she really didn't, but at the same time she needed to. Nothing made sense if she didn't talk about it. “At sunset, she brought me to this room. Inside was Heather tied to a chair and she… she said I had to kill him.”

Medli's voice lost strength in the last words. The whole thing felt horrible. To be very clear, she did not like Heather. He was a bully, he called her names, destroyed her things, would hurt her if ever given the opportunity, hells he had killed at least one of her goldfish. But Medli didn't want to kill him. Medli didn't want to kill anybody, but Clarissa had handed her a rapier and called the task ‘easy’.

“I said that I wasn't going to, that I don't want to hurt people. And Clarissa got so angry, and started cutting Heather loose, said that there can only be one of us alive on the island by morning. So I just started running. Heather ended up catching up, and, and, and I guess he did want to kill me. I thought if I could get to the pool, it’ll be okay cause he can’t swim, but he caught up by the time I got there. I know he stabbed me and tried to block all my gills and hold me under so I'd drown. I think I ended up hitting him with a bit of tile, I don't really remember. I just don't want to die. So I thought if I hid on a ship that would be leaving the island then everything would be okay and that ended up being your ship and… that's it.”

Medli fell into silence. She was still scared. She was still on the island. And what if that meant she'd just die in the morning? Even in her panicked state, that felt almost silly, but it also didn't. It felt as silly as it felt possible. With her falling quiet, Idric found himself trying to articulate a reaction. He was seething, he had never wanted to kill Clarissa Mistbreaker more than in this moment. And had Medli not been right there sitting across from him, he might've done it, but she had fought hard that night for there not to be a murder. So, as much as he truly believed that the world would be better without that harpy queen headmistress, he wouldn't go and redecorate the halls with her own blood and gore. So instead, he focused on the much more important issue of making sure Medli was out of her reach.

“Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna send some of my crew to collect your stuff. And as soon as they get back with it, we're gonna leave. Away from Mistwalker, away from the harpy queen. Wherever you wanna go, and we're never coming back to this island,” He said with a gentle confidence. Medli felt a sense of relief rush in fast enough that she started crying again, though this time accompanied by her chest lightening. She was leaving and leaving with her friend. Something in retrospect she wishes she had done a long time ago, but she was finally leaving. The whole world of Libris, she had never seen any of it beyond the island she was now leaving. She was excited as she was terrified. But most importantly, Idric was there with her, which meant no matter how scared she might be, everything would work out. Idric hugged her again. Wherever they went, it would be away from Clarissa. This would be the last night she would ever hurt Medli. He'd make sure of it.

[ur-daily-inspiration]

[mischievous-thunder]

It's him, Johnny. Logan himself is the source. He tried to get out of the Void that way and failed.

[iknowmorethanyou]

Follow For More ❤️

Come To Community Click This

[puro134]

Names taken literally

[catinasink]

am going to go insane over marlene mckinnon my little slavic lesbian 🥰🥰🥰

In 2024 we are all getting annoying and insane about our favorite girl characters the way people do with their male favs this isn't a joke you need to be insane about her. More than that. More than that too

[heartswithinreach]

sylus always answers your calls. always. no exceptions.

he could be in the middle of a gun fight or a messy interrogation but when he hears the inside joke of a ringtone he set for you, he uses his evol to shackle everyone in place while he answers, calm and collected as can be.

“kitten, it’s late in linkon — you should be sleeping. no, i’m not busy at the moment.” a cold glare is the only warning his enemies get to stay quiet. “what do you need?”

some of the world’s most powerful and feared men have had their final agonizing moments prolonged by listening to the leader of onychinus sweet-talk you.

[calypso-mbk]

I didn't believe it at first but after watching the show, Dead Boy Detectives was so obviously crafted to be catnip for the Tumblr girlies(gn), cause like. Homoerotic ghost detectives. Sassy psychics. Weird girls. Witches. A literal cat king. Sad twink that's actually a crow. Hot goth lesbian butchers. Slowburn ft. immortal beings. Gay confessions in hell. This show was crafted in a lab for us, and I LOVE IT. Go watch it if you haven't already.

[catinasink]

introduction teehee

most recent edit: 2/03/24

hi!

general questions

who am i?

i'm cat (dont capitalize, as in Cat) and tentatively eli or nico. i'm a minor, as well as in middle school (ages 11-14). i go by it/its (if you're calling me cat) or they/he (if you're calling me eli or nico) or no pronouns. i am transmasc agender, aroacespec (aroflux and aegosexual), and pan.

what do i post about/reblog about?

marauders

genshin impact

other random fandoms

dreamscape nexus (...)

life things! (vents, random events, etc)

things about my friends :D

classes outside school (ballroom dance, art, aikido, russian, math)

writing (i am a writer)

music (i post lyrics from music, is fun)

gay (i am gay)

my friends

family, pets, friends?

one older sister

two cats - kim and shego (or floorshitter)

irl friends:

pissboy (my husband. he/they) (pissboy origin story)

lee (my wife. not a permanent nickname. she/her)

preppy (my wife, not a permanent nickname, she/her)

miss eighth* grader (she/they, talks abt sui a lot)

ashes (she/her, my bbg)

may mention some other ppl as well lol

can you tag me, ask me questions, tag me in chain asks or tag games?

sure, i might not participate in tag games or chain asks tho :>

timezone?

PST, inside a sink

dni?

if over 25, bigots in general, the usual

what can you call me?

no: bro, guy, gal, sis, girl, man, boy, dude, etc. (gendered terms in general)

yes: pet names (sarcastically and/or platonically, ofc) such as sweetheart, honey, bbg (please dont fully type out babygirl); lil guy is fine

i might call myself a girl or a boy, dont take this as permission please x

--

*used to be miss seventh grader

other info

i would appreciate tone tags if you feel you are speaking too vaguely, but otherwise it's fine

am either a slytherin or ravenclaw. slytherin most-likely

am INTP-T

scorpio sun, sagittarius moon, scorpio rising (i think)

pandora sun, lily moon, regulus rising

i speak english and russian, am learning german and hebrew (long story)

one sideblog, @catinasink-writes, this is only for my fanfiction

i also have another sideblog. kudos to you if you find it

I might ask you to explain a sentence or a phrase for me, it's bc words tend to not be understandable for me sometimes

i. might be neurodivergent

please alert me if you're going to leave, it scares me sometimes

am matching banners with @shrimpysstuff!! go check her out, her blog is wonderful :3

tags!

ramblies, vents, anything thats not a reblog and doesnt fall into another category: #cat's rambles

posts mentioning my cat, or with my cat: #cat's cat

writing (in general): #cat's writing

writing (actually writing: #poetry maybe

my art: #cat's art

my asks: #cat's asks

posts made during school (tend to be queued): #cat's schoolposting

music-related posts: #cat's lyricposting

my own music: #cat's lyrics

my beloved friend @this-is-me-lolol: #basil my beloved <3

pissboy, my friend: #my lovely pissboy

my friend @o-kye: #tumblr user o-kye

cali cult: #calicos

sink lore: #happenings of the sink

blender anon: #cat's blender anon

dear anon (dreamscape nexus thing): #cat's dear anon

dreamscape nexus (...): #Dreamscape Nexus

ao3 details

my account (catinasink)

i've got a good feeling that we could be something

rated T

the Selection but rosestarkillerchaser

features the Blacks as the Schreaves

the Order as the rebellion

rosestarkillerchaser, emmarlily, wolfstar

unfinished, 8/30 (estimate)

watching pixar on a school night

rated T

a texting fic for the marauders 5th year and skittles 4th year

modern au w magic

rosestarkillerchaser, emmarpanlily/sunkeeperflowerseer, wolfstar

background benjy/peter + nobleflower + frank

slowburn

unfinished, 25/?

they're so pretty it hurts (i'm not talking about boys, i'm talking about girls)

rated T

oneshot about marlene

in the universe of wpoasn

features slavic marlene!! bc that is my love >>

also ace marlene!

2.7k words

finished, 1/1

dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies

rated T

in the universe of wpoasn

noblesea (molly and alice) focused

has noblesea, nobleflower, and fralice (polyam alice)

slowburn

unfinished, 2/8 (estimate)

fic summaries (definitely accurate)

tumblr writing masterlist (chronological order, first most recent)

song-resembling thing (aka big mistake) (with voice ;-;)

maybe one day

to old friend once again

jolly ranchers

to v

my love

piano

fuck periods

more vent (green)

to my old friend (again)

to my old friend

more poetry/rambling/vent whatever :>

more poetry

poem thing that blender anon said i should share

have a nice day!

[kanekisfavoritegf]

full fic here

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin Humps his sheets unknowingly when he dreams about you.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin swore off dating when working as a sorcerer until you came into his life.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin asks you out politely, despite the fear of being incompetent due to his lack of not only sexual relationships but emotional ones too.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would offer to make you dinner at his place, and drink wine on his couch by the fire place.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is absolutely mortified when he cums in his pants after you kissed him for the first time.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is comforted by the way you treat him the exact same after he explains his lack of physical and emotional experience.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin finds himself pinning you to the couch and kissing you harder, keeping you down with his hips and making sure your legs are wrapped around him as he does so.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin doesn’t even care that his already stained pants seem to be getting worse as he rubs into you because you are letting out the sweetest moans for him.

Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would beg you breathlessly between wet hot kisses and needily to teach him.

Teach him how to be your perfect lover in more ways than one.

[coolcattime]

Ambulance Chaser [OC AU Snippet]

Hi hi!

This is a little snippet from an OC AU that me and my friend @theiratlas brainstorm about. We have quite a few AUs that we discuss a lot, but I've always felt a little nervous about sharing cause like sharing my OCs is a little bit anxiety inducing, but I wrote this scene and I felt very proud of it and wanted to share it!

This is an scene from a JoJo's Bizarre Adventure AU we've been discussing where this particular scene just got stuck in my head. It's meant to be the intro scene of kind of the 2nd act of the story but I hope it's still enjoyable to read out of context! (Also big thank to Atlas for editting and their little additions)

If you have any questions, I'm super happy to answer cause I always love rambling about OCs ^-^

Content warning for description of injuries and mild body horror.

He felt like he was going insane. Maybe he was, honestly at this point it would make more sense than what was in front of him. The doctor was scrambling to make sense of anything really, trying to give what little explanation he had to the person on the other end of the phone, hoping they could be of any kind of assistance. He couldn't believe it himself, that he, Rhys Mourningdove, hadn't come up with any information in weeks. What was particularly frustrating to him however was that he knew there must be some obvious explanation he was just missing.

He hadn't exactly been asked to do any kind of investigation, to look into the odd happenings at the hospital. It was more that he just couldn't stop thinking about it so took it upon himself to look. What was he meant to do when apparent miracle cures kept happening and no one had any sort of documentation, let alone explanations for how they had treated the patients. Rapid miracle cures that left patients not only better but as if they'd never been sick in the first place, completely ready to leave in a matter of hours, did not exist. If they did, Rhys is sure he would know about them, the world would know about them and be using them. It was infuriating that no one seemed to care just how weird it was, but him. 

As long as the press was good, he supposed, but he couldn't believe that no one found this suspicious but him.

"So your problem is that patients are being cured at the hospital?" The sceptical voice of the man Rhys had been connected with tinnily echoed through his office. He was really from the Speedwagon Foundation? He must be an idiot, Rhys thought. 

The voice on the phone introduced himself as Isaac Sharp, an accountant or an archivist or just someone who supposedly has a vested interest in making sure there wasn't anything suspicious going on at the hospital. Yet even as he had explained his findings, explained that people were getting cured with no logical explanation, the voice seemed to have absolutely no qualms with how things were going. 

"No, my problem isn't the recoveries, it's that no one seems to know how the patients are recovering, there's not even treatment plans for them, it's impossible," Rhys explained this for what felt like the hundredth time, resisting the expletive on the tip of his tongue. It was as if Isaac wasn't even listening or maybe he just didn't care. 

Rhys pushed his glasses up to briefly pinch the bridge of his nose. This wasn't how medicine worked. Someone on the medical teams treating the patients should be able to tell him the method that had been used. The handful of patients he'd managed to talk to before they'd been discharged had all recalled some kind of sting they described as being like an injection or a blood draw, usually within the hour before their miraculous recovery, but nothing of the sort had been documented even if a single miracle injection was any sort solution.

"Nothing's been documented, no aftercare has been scheduled or prescriptions written. This isn't like patients recovering, it's like they suddenly were never sick in the first place."

"Rhys."

"..." Rhys’s silence was pointed and chosen. 

"Doctor Mourningdove," Isaac said, more than a little exasperated by this phone call. His job was meant to be easy, he wasn't meant to get phone calls complaining that the hospital was working too well because that was a ridiculous thing to complain about. Yet here he was, dealing with a man that was beyond simple academic concerns, obsessed with the fact that patients were leaving a hospital happy and healthy. How had his life come to this? "I understand that it must be hard to see another doctor come into a similar position as you and get all the accolades you're used to receiving--"

"No!” He snapped down immediately “No, this isn't an ego thing."

It was a little bit of an ego thing. Rhys was a good doctor, most would describe him as a great one, but he certainly was not a person who did the job out of the goodness of his heart. He liked the praise he'd gotten, obviously he did, who wouldn't? Maybe someone new and apparently more brilliant coming onto the scene was the original reason he had begun looking into the so-called miracle recoveries, but that didn't change the facts of what he had discovered. 

"Logan Charles is a fraud! I don't know what he's doing to cure these patients, but he doesn't know a thing about medicine and I sincerely question whether he even has the credentials needed to call oneself a doctor!"

"Doctor Charles is successfully treating patients. He certainly isn't calling me to spread crackpot-nonsense conspiracy theories about a peer. Maybe you could learn something from him," He didn't sound nearly as forceful as he wanted to. Rhys certainly wasn't intimidated. But fine. Maybe he'd need to jump through a few more hoops to get the Speedwagon Foundation to actually listen to him even if Rhys still hadn't found any proof that their brand new miracle doctor had even attended medical school. He'd do this by himself.

"Fine, I'll go treat some patients right now."

"Why do you sound so aggressive?"

"..."

"Doct--" Rhys hung up the phone cutting Isaac off numbly, he had another led to follow who also happened to be a patient, which was good, he was pretty sure his break was over.

He wasn't sure if anyone praising the apparent miracle doctor had noticed, in fact he was pretty sure just that they hadn't, but at the same time as the last "incurable" patient was somehow magically cured, a young woman had fallen suddenly ill with the exact same illness despite having been completely healthy days beforehand. There was no way she wasn't somehow connected to this, even if he currently didn't have any idea how. Thankfully she was responding well to treatment, he just hoped that she would recover soon enough. Both for his own investigations, and the fact he'd been specially requested to be in charge of her care by the hospital's key donor not named Speedwagon. At least that meant no one was attempting to put any frauds on her medical team.

He turned to leave his office only to startle and stumble backwards as stood leaning against the doorframe of his office was “Dr.” Logan Charles, a shit-eating grin plastered on his dumb face. Rhys panicked. How much had he heard? The mass of muscle and ill fitting scrubs took a few steps inside, the door closing behind him. Rhys probably would have noted the door closing as if by a person despite there being no one around to do so but he was preoccupied by the cheap aftershave on legs swagging toward him. 

Logan finally stopped less than a step’s distance in front of Rhys’ thankfully wide desk, though it definitely didn't provide nearly enough of a barrier.

"So, I'm a fraud huh?" He said with far too wide a smile. His voice was low and far too calm. Before this moment, Rhys had assumed he could never be scared by Logan; irritated and frustrated certainly, he never exactly wanted to be near him, but fear was definitely a surprise. "Lot of pretty serious claims you have there, I mean how would I have even gotten a job here if I'm not a doctor?"

Rhys considered his options and chose to provoke the protein powder-keg in front of him. The reasons why still escape Rhys even now.

"I'm not sure you do have a job here actually. You just showed up one day as if you were meant to be here and everyone went along with it," It was not the most sound argument, but he couldn't figure out the trick. He knew that Logan must've been hired, but he couldn't imagine the man making it through any sort of vetting process without his glaring lack of medical knowledge rearing its ugly head. 

There was a single moment where Logan's smile dropped, it may have only been half a second, but it felt like an absolutely terrifying gotcha moment. But then that terrible feeling got worse. It was as if the “something” that had been clouding Rhys’s mind was suddenly lifted and now the starkly terrifying reality had set in.

Rhys stumbled back as the pieces connected in his head. Logan Charles didn't work here. Logan Charles probably wasn't even a doctor. Logan Charles had just appeared one day as if he was meant to be there after she…! He needed to get out of there. 

The realisation dawning on his face was not well hidden and the other man saw it.

Rhys took off in a sprint. Logan tried to grab him only to be met with a sharp pain in his right cheek. Stumbling back as Rhys fled into the common areas, Logan tore out a fountain pen from his cheek. So that's how it was? Sure, he'd come to put an end to the man, but he wasn't meant to realise anything. Stupid damn memory stand, never should've trusted anything he didn't set up himself. Well, the annoying doctor shouldn't be too hard to track down.

Clutching his new face hole, he walked down the corridor, spotting the door to the stairwell open.

“Probably headed for the fire exit, but there was no way he'd’ve made it out yet” Logan found himself narrating. Entering the stairs he could hear someone hurriedly heading down, and looking down the middle, there he was, Rhys attempting to make his escape. Logan smiled.

"Ambulance Chaser. Total Recovery."

Rhys didn't hear those words, nor did he see the stand summoned by Logan. All he felt was a stinging pain in his back and then the most overwhelming pain in every nerve ending in his central nervous system from his spine and his toes, to his gums and ear drums. It was a kind of terrible that's hard to describe especially when internally all he could do was scream. 

Rhys dropped immediately, falling down the flight of stairs he was currently running down, the pain of which he didn't notice, too overwhelmed by the ever-multiplying number of injuries spontaneously appearing with each second.

Doctor Rhys Mourningdove would be found less than a minute later barely conscious and be rushed to the hospital's emergency care. His wounds were more akin to that of a vehicular accident than anything that logically could've ended with a man being found on the hospital’s second floor stairwell. No one had any idea what could've caused such terrible injuries to appear, and it wasn’t certain that he’d even make a full recovery. 

Although Doctor Charles had volunteered to lead his care, clearly he would be in good hands. 

Unnoticed in all the chaos, a young man that had been admitted to the ER after a motorcycle accident was discharged in what could only be described as a miracle or a bizarre shared hallucination from the patient and paramedics alike. Despite the crash seeming severe, he walked away with no injuries, only a few cuts and bruises, his only memory between the crash and being wheeled out of the ambulance being that of a sharp pain akin to an injection.

[dmitriene]

cw: hybrids, dubcon (?), trapping, knotting and things.

dog hybrid simon riley that tries to mount you, it's not his fault, it's his owner who's responsible for bringing a sweet, docile kitten in the house that already has a big dog, he's never showed his affection to any possible animals around, even to his own specie, how he should, but upon meeting you, soft, supple thing with groomed tail and fluffy ears, he remembers he has a cock to stuff and breed.

you expected him to scent you and then forget about you, after all, he's a scary dog, and the man that took you promised that he's lazy and wouldn't even bat an eye at you, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, simon bumped you down on the parquet floor with his whole, heavy weight, pressing his rugged mug between your legs, huffing out a terrifying, pleases groan, his tail wagging left and right.

it's led to you almost clawing his eyes out, hissing and scurrying as far away from him as possible, threatening that you'll slice his face if he'd try it again, defensive little thing, a sight that pulls a lopsided grin to his pale lips, making your fur stand up on your ears and body, forgetting about trying to make up friends, knowing best than talking to this horny mutt.

yet simon plays it off, acts as apologetic as he can, tucking his excited tail between his burly legs, lowers his ears down, almost manages to do these honeyed, puppy eyes when he passes you across the house, getting under your fur, by helping you, giving you his sleeping place while the owner orders a new one for you, even stoles some treats for you from the kitchen.

anything, just to lower your awareness of him, making you warm up to an unruly mutt and feel comfortable with and beside him, pushing his inappropriate behavior to pure curiosity, seeing that he ain't trying to do something like that again, even through there's a sleazy murkiness to his eyes you can't piece together, until your heat doesn't hits you.

you come to him willingly, padding from your bedding to his, where he's all sprawled out, deep asleep with rumbling snores, and your mind to hazy to comprehend what's happening, why it's so hot, why you're all leaky between your furry, supple thighs, plopping beside him with loud, needy purrs, as you rub against his whole body, ass perched out with your pretty, curving spine.

simon knew you'd come, waited for your heat to struck, for you to seek him as your comforter, nuzzle your adorable face with whiny mewls in his thick palm, he's not a patient dog, and he won't torture you by acting like he's asleep, so he rises and tugs you close, pressing you into his bed, making you arch sweet and sharp enough to present your needy, fluttering hole, messy with dripping slick.

he eats your pussy properly, messes his whole maw with your slick and creamy cum, nose pressed in your silken, soaking fur, while he flattens his rough, thick tongue against your puffy folds and bumpy, swollen clit, slurping down on you when he nudges at your slit, licking further to your clenching hole, stuffing you with at least something for a short time, preparing you for his knot.

you welcome his chubby cock properly, your hole tight, yet so slick that simon is able to sheathe himself along your rippling, pulsing walls in couple of squelchy slides, flicking his finger against your throbby, little bud of nerves, looking at the way you purr and meow in pleasure as he stretches you out, filling you so full your soft, little tummy bulges out from his girth.

simon will knock you up, knot your tight pussy nice, making you claw at his wide shoulders while he slobbers over your fluffy, plump tits, rough tongue torturing your perky nipples, suckling wet kisses on your tender body, that would be even more so after he'd make sure you're pregnant with his chubby pups, as you keen his name and plead him to breed you.

ears pressed tight to your head, flicking at each pound of his engorged, fattening cock in your leaking hole, rutting his thickening tip against your cervix, your spongy spot rubbing against his veiny shaft rapidly, making you writhe, turning his wide, muscular back in a mess of bleeding crescent scratches, as your long tail wraps around his leg, brushing against his thumping one, accepting simon's popping knot with pitchy meows and gushy hole.

your pregnancy would be an owners problem by the morning, when he'd stumble across you tucked against simon's solid chest, purring in your peaceful slumber after being sufficiently filled with loads of potent, thick cum, morning air filled with guttural, protective growls and clogging scent of sex, and it's seems like it's wouldn't be easy to make simon stay away from you from now on.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[kentopedia]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster�� kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

��sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[mischievous-thunder]

Logan's the prettiest, cutest and softest kitty Wade's ever seen