30. how did y/c receive their scars, if they have any?
He remembered the day he woke up with it. The piercing hurt like hell and it bled when he tried to mess with it- he decided to leave it be and bit down on his tongue through the pain. It took a long time for Dimitri to forgive Dagon. After all, not all of them had consented to the idea of getting a piercing. Dimitri still wondered how Dagon even got it. Eventually, it wouldn’t bug him and he’d be mindful of it. Someone could pull on it like pulling on his ears. Rip it out. That would hurt.
There were the scars on his shoulders, and some bites on his scruff. They were from remembered cases of their dad- of their father- pulling him down and holding him still, biting his neck and threatening to kill him. Their father, someone they were suppose to trust, love, and look up to, holding him down as he hurt them and violated them.
Dagon held hate in his heart for their father, Dimitri held regret, and the others… didn’t want to comment so much. They were vaguely aware of what happened to Dimitri and knew better than to ask Dagon about it.
Delta knew that Dagon didn’t like to talk about it. She knew it made Dagon uncomfortable and the quickest way to make Dagon leave was to bring up the tomcat he was modeled after. That was rude, because it was Dagon’s trauma to hold and his to deal with. Delta knew better than to push him away.

31. endings
Endings. Dimitri had imagined his death before- several times. When he was young and finally had a concept of death, of endings, he had imagined the ways he’d die. Maybe his father would finally kill him, and his neck would have been ripped out, or he would have been choked to death. Maybe they would have bled out.
When they were on their own in the streets, he would imagine starving to death. He could see a figure coming at him, some group of cats they’d crossed or even a dog or two, coming and ripping them apart. Eating them while alive or dead, because food was food and meat was meat. A small kitten wasn’t much, but it was food.
Snowbound was the first time the thought of death hadn’t crossed him. Admittedly, he had visions of Snowbounders turning on him and ripping their claws in his sides, outcasting him- but those thoughts were gone now.
Dagon thought many times, of suicide. When they lived in the city and climbed to the top of a tall rooftop sitting on the ledge and staring at the ground. Thinking about it. Considering it. Wanting to die all over. Wondering how quick death would come and if he would finally be free from Dimitri and from what they’d experienced. Freedom, perhaps. Or would they have gone to hell?
Dagon was everything Dimitri didn’t want to be. An angry drunkard who couldn’t let go and didn’t have the fucking guts to do it.