Memories Come in on Little Cat Feet
@fyeahghosttrick it be the #ghost swap
and it be for you, @katecattusâ
I ended up following three of your prompts (mostly by accident, mind you XD). Here they are:
Prompt #1
Anything on how Yomiel met Sissel, could be at any point in their lives, any situation, just give me a first spark that attracted them to each other
Prompt #2
I donât get tired of Yomiel in prison, so anything on that note, be it a story or an art would be nice
Prompt #3
The main cast interacting with Yomiel post canon. Make it an accident or something planned, apologetic on one or both sides, but something with a feel-good vibe
And hereâs the Ao3 link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48004426
____
It has been said that âthe fog comes in on little cat feetâ; perhaps that is why your thoughts came in like fog, a gradual build-up of emotions and memories.
Thatâs when I met you, old friend.
I had ransacked your body, claimed it as my own. I had pitter-pattered those little cat feet - no, little kitten feet, given how small you were (as small as you are now, because I took away your ability to grow up) - off in search of food, of water, of comfort and 'homeâ. All I could hear originally were your base thoughts: 'I need foodâ, 'Iâll die of starvationâ, 'itâs just so coldâ, and 'Iâm lonelyâ. 'Iâm lonely, lonely, lonely, abandoned by all those who might love me.â
(I was so lonely, too. Thatâs almost certainly what drove us together.)
So I took you out, traveled away from the corpse I didnât realize was mine, and gathered you food, and gathered water water, and gathered even the occasional appreciative human. In those days, as you slept on the brink of consciousness and I had forgotten my own twisted existence, life was vaguely peaceful, a sort of fuzzy cohabitation where neither party was truly in their best minds.
And then I found her, dangling down from our ceiling, and everything I had forgotten came rushing back.
All the memories of yours that had crept in like mist, the immediate recollection of who was in front of me - they made me realize that I was somehow in someone elseâs body, rummaging around a house I just traveled to on subconscious instinct alone, parading around some cat while my own body was gods-know-where and my fiance was, well. I donât even remember what happened directly afterwards; I know I retrieved my corpse at some point and had puppeteered it back home, but how exactly I did that has only gotten fuzzier over time. Despite the whole âtaking over your bodyâ thing, I still had yet to fully absorb the implications of my abilities, or my state of being, because wow, whoâd have thought that the lack of feeling was some weird side effect of being a walking corpse and not just an awful trauma response? All I know is that a few days later, I was somehow taking care of the starved kitten I accidentally saved, adopting a name for you I never thought Iâd use again.
âŚI think it was that convergence of memories that netted you the name Sissel.â
And so, the ghostly black cat who moved as though he was transient, blue mist - he blinked back, his fur rippling against the blood-red backdrop. "I see.â
 (Iâm fighting the urge to facepalm, Sissel, because that was a non-response if there ever was one.)
âYes, well,â a slight bristle here, a twitchy whisker there, âIâm not sure if I have any good responses to this.â (I canât mess up on my words hereâŚ!)
âCat got your tongue?â
ââŚstill,â the man-formerly-in-red-but-now-currently-in-pink spoke with an-almost smile, a sight more common as each day in the new world passed, âthanks for listening. You and the other Sissel check up so frequently that I can almost push past the leftover despair.â And with that, his not-quite-smile darkened with melancholy, a much more familiar sight. âAlmost.â
And so, in lieu of a response, Sissel leaned himself into Yomielâs shoulder; an ethereal feeling, as everything in the ghost world is, but a comforting touch nonetheless. âThen,â with a patented cat smile, âIâll just keep asking you questions until you can truly smile. Okay?â And without waiting for a response, the mental link ended, the world no longer painted in hues of red, a ghostly black cat no longer (visibly) gracing his presence.
âIâll hold you to it.â