#she squeaks! it’s not real meowing

[shilohrowan]

Yeah she’s baby grill

[magnetarmadda]

Happy @jonsimsandcats day! I'd wanted to write a new fic for today, but alas, the chronic illnesses are Illnessing, and so instead, I have for you a small collection of ideas @artificialdaydreamer and I have dreamt up and some snippets to accompany them. They are: 1. Sasha the comforter, 2. Sasha gets a new cat tower, and 3. Sasha can talk (under the cut)

You can find the published Sasha cat au fics on ao3, and I hope more will join them soon!

1. Sasha the comforter

Jon's had a bad week, really. The whole thing could go in the bin, but it was today in particular that made things seem so grim. How does someone get over an apocalypse? Jon still doesn't know, and whenever his students make mention of their scant memories of the experience, his guilt climbs high into his throat and makes a home there. Sasha makes a small chirping noise as they near the front door, and he offers her a small pat as he reaches for his key. The door closes behind him, he sets his bag down, he feeds Sasha and puts her on the floor, and then he's suddenly in his bed, crying. It's been happening more and more lately, which is supposedly a good thing, according to his therapist. But that doesn't stop the guilt--the guilt for freeing the Fears, for saving himself and Martin, for starting to be happy. And talking to Martin about this is very hard, because Martin doesn't believe the damning of an untold number of souls is really Jon's fault. It is Jon's fault, of course, but he appreciates that Martin's love convinces him otherwise. He really does, but it's usually better to have this self-pitying cry before Martin gets home. Sasha barrels into the room, full speed ahead, and climbs into his lap, and isn't that a prime example of the love, kindness, and happiness he doesn't deserve? "Sasha, no," he says softly, rubbing his nose on his sleeve as he gently pushes her away with the other hand. "Sasha, you're too little, I'll hurt you." She gives a tiny but ferocious meow and leaps into his lap again, this time climbing his shirt and making her home in his pocket again, purring so hard, he can feel the reverberation in his chest. He pauses, his sobs temporarily stopped in confusion and heartbreak, then says, "I know you want to help, but I don't want to squish you, darling." "MEOW!!" "Okay okay!" And he's laughing now, tears streaming down his cheeks, but somehow, the guilt feels a little lighter.

2. Sasha gets a new cat tower, and she's adorable

"Jon, that's not really going to fit in our flat," Martin says, but he's laughing. He's just gotten home from the shops, and Jon is almost entirely through building Sasha's new cat tower. "Martin, my love, it's already fitting in the flat," he says without emotion, gesturing to the obvious piece of furniture in their living room. "Not very well," his husband says, still laughing. "I'm not sure where you and I are supposed to sit or stand." Jon refuses to acknowledge that, instead placing the final flower bed on the top of the last tower and beginning the process of screwing it into place. He says, "You ordered this one, not me." Sasha, as always, has impeccable timing, and chooses this moment to venture out from the bedroom to survey her new throne, interrupting Martin before he tries to protest his online shopping choices. She pauses to let Martin bend down to pet her and offer her some sweet words before she makes her way to the new cat condo. She sniffs around the bottom very deliberately, taking each piece in turn, before she rapidly climbs the middle column, right up to where Jon has finished assembling it. "Does it meet your standards, my darling?" She bumps his hand for attention, and then flops onto her tiny side, emitting a little squeak and rubbing her face on a flower petal. "I think it does," Jon says to Martin, sweaty from the effort of building the tower but extremely pleased.

3. Sasha can talk...sort of. This last one doesn't have any real writing attached to it yet, but I love the idea so much, so here you go

Sasha's a little older now, and Jon learns that actually yes he can talk to her. It starts off small, where it seems more like she and Jon are having conversations where he's speaking aloud and she's meowing back. Then one day, he actually hears her answer a question as "No" and goes "MARTIN DID YOU HEAR THAT SHE SAID NO!" Martin: "Uh, she meowed?" Then it builds up to where, as she grows over a few months, she's much like a toddler in that her speech capabilities also grow. "The fucking Eye is useful for something here at least," Jon grumbles. "I love you, Dad," Sasha meows back, and Jon's eyes tear up

[my-beloved-lakes]

Eliot and the stray cat he said they weren't keeping. (Click for better quality)

(Ficlet below the cut)

Eliot glanced up from his book when he heard Parker come in, then did a double take.

She was standing in the doorway, holding a cat. It was scrawny and wet and covered in mud.

"Look what I found in the alley." She said, her voice was sad and sympathetic, but underneath that there was a hint of excitement. "She needs a home."

Oh no. Eliot thought.

"We are not keeping the cat, Parker." He said firmly.

"Woah, who put you in charge?" Hardison asked indignantly.

"We can't have a cat running around here." Eliot insisted. “Not with how often we’re out of town.”

Parker looked disappointed.

"We'd Give the damn thing abandonment issues." Eliot muttered under his breath

"Well, we can at least give her a bath and some food." Hardison said.

Eliot's expression softened.

"It can spend the night. We'll give it a blanket to sleep on and leave it in the bathroom where it can't get into anything." Eliot said. "I'll take it to the shelter tomorrow."

"Shelter's closed over the weekend. Won't open again till Monday." Hardison pointed out.

Eliot groaned. "So we're stuck with it for the next 3 days?"

"Yup." Hardison said smugly.

"What should we call her?" Parker asked.

"No. No. We're not naming it. It'll just make it harder to say goodbye when the time comes."

"Aww, come on, can't we keep her? She needs a home and family to love her." Parker insisted. "And just look how cute she is!"

"They'll find it a good home at the shelter." Eliot said.

"Well, I guess I better go to the store and get some cat chow so she can have something to eat while she's here." Hardison said. "You two can handle giving her a bath while I'm gone."

Eliot rolled his eyes and got up to help Parker clean the cat off.

"Get a wet washcloth." He said. "I'll hold it still while you get as much of the mud off as you can."

Parker gently handed the cat to Eliot and ran to the other room. The cat let out a quiet broken meow that was barely more than a squeak as she passed it to Eliot. It clung to Eliot's arm with its claws, and he could feel the thing trembling. He wondered if it was cold or just scared.

Parker came back a minute later with a washcloth soaked in warm water. Eliot held the cat out so Parker could wipe away  all the mud but after a while Eliot realized the washcloth wasn't going to be enough to get the cat clean. He sighed.

"It's gonna need a real bath." He said. “We’ll take it to the bathroom and do it in the tub.”

"She's not gonna like that." Parker pointed out.

The cat didn't mind nearly as much as Eliot expected. Or at least she didn't show it, maybe she was too exhausted or too scared to struggle. Her ears were pinned back in discomfort but she didn't put up a fight. She just sat in the tub, still clinging to Eliot's arm with her front paws as Parker rubbed soap into her fur. When Parker was done lathering the cat with soap Eliot helped rinse all the soap off, running his free hand over the cat's whole body as Parker poured warm water over it.

As Eliot ran his fingers through the cat's wet fur, he could feel scars. Most were old and long since healed up, but a few were more recent, still scabbed with blood.

"She's had a hard life, hasn't she." Parker said. "No family to love her, having to fight to survive."

"Yeah, seems like she has." Eliot said.

She's trying to guilt me into keeping it.

"She's old too." Parker pointed out. "Older animals are less likely to get adopted, you know."

Eliot sighed and shook his head.

I'm not going to let her guilt me into this. He told himself.

She was right though. The cat was old. Now that all the mud was gone, he could see that her face was covered in gray hairs.  The rest of her was a dusty brown color with tabby stripes. She was a cute cat, he had to admit. She reminded him of the cat he had as a kid.

Eliot shook his head.

Can't let myself get attached. He reminded himself.

He grabbed a dry towel and gently rubbed as much of the water off as he could. Then he set the cat down on the ground.

"Do we really have to lock her in here?" Parker asked.

"She can wander around the back rooms until we go to bed." Eliot said reluctantly. "As long as we keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't get into anything."

Parker's face lit up and she opened the bathroom door. No sooner had she done so, the cat scampered out of the bathroom into the livingroom and darted under the couch.

***

When Hardison got home, he found the cat wandering around, cautiously smelling everything. Parker was watching the cat intently and Eliot had his face in a book, paying no attention to the cat whatsoever, or at least pretending not to pay any attention. 

"So I see the cat isn't actually staying in the bathroom then." Hardison said with a sly smile. 

"She'll be put in there when we go to bed." Eliot said. "She's just hanging out out here while we can keep an eye on her."

Hardison smiled and poured a little food into the new bowl he had bought for the cat and when he looked up, he caught a dirty look from Eliot.

"What?"

"You bought the cat a new food bowl?"

"Yeah." Hardison shrugged.

"Damnit Hardison."

"She needs a dish!"

"The cat is not staying." Eliot insisted.

Hardison just rolled his eyes and set the bowl on the ground next to his feet.

The cat snuck cautiously up, but didn't come close enough to eat.

"Oops, excuse me little lady." Hardison said and backed away from the food bowl.

As soon as the cat decided Hardison was a safe distance away, she darted forward and began scarfing down the food, making happy little meows as she ate.

Parker and Hardison both chuckled at the muffled meows coming from the cat.

"I don't think I've ever heard a cat do that." Hardison mused.

I have. Once. Eliot thought, then quickly dismissed the thought.

As soon as the cat was done eating Parker tried to creep closer to pet her, but the cat darted away and sat down, wrapped her tail around her feet and stared at Parker.

"Aww it's okay little kitty." Parker promised. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Parker sat down on the ground and scooted closer, but the cat moved away again.

"Parker, leave the cat alone." Eliot said without glancing up from his book. "She'll come to you when she's ready."

Parker reluctantly got up and settled herself on the couch between Eliot and Hardison.

***

Hardison stretched and yawned.

"Welp, I think it's time for me to get to bed." He said and got up from the couch. "Want me to put the cat up?" 

"Nah, I got it." Eliot shrugged.

"Okay, night night." Hardison said and made his way up the stairs.

Parker got up to follow him.

"Good night, Eliot." She said.

"G'night."

"I really want to keep the cat." Parker said as she climbed into bed next to Hardison.

"Oh babe, we're keeping the cat." Hardison said definitely.

"But Eliot was very clear that he doesn't want to keep her. I know he's not the boss of us, but I feel like we should respect his opinion, right?"

Hardison wrapped his arms around Parker and pulled her close.

"Parker let me let you in on a little secret that Eliot would probably kill me for telling you. He'd never admit it, but he loves that cat already. He's growing more and more attached to her every second. We just have to pretend like we don't notice it for a while, let him think he’s got us fooled. Before ya know it, he’ll cave and let us keep her."

Parker smiled and snuggled in closer to Hardison.

“I think we should call her Snickers.” Parker said

“I like Snickers.” hardison mumbled sleepily. “But don’t tell Eliot till he’s agreed to keep her.”

***

Parker woke up again in the middle of the night and wondered if Eliot was still awake. She carefully slipped out of Hardison’s arm and crept down the stairs. She found Eliot curled up, sound asleep on the couch. The cat was curled up in the curve of Eliot's stomach, nestled into a pile of blankets, purring loudly. 

So the cat’s not staying in the bathroom after all.

She smiled and crept back to the bedroom, nudged Hardison awake and motioned for him to follow her. Together they crept back to the living room.

Hardison chuckled quietly to himself when he saw Eliot asleep with the cat.

"What'd I tell you? He's in love with the cat already."

***

Monday rolled around, but Eliot didn’t seem to be in any hurry to take the cat to the shelter.

"Ya gonna take the cat today?" Hardison asked. 

He already knew the answer was no. Eliot was completely and thoroughly attached.

"If I find the time." Eliot shrugged. "Kinda busy today, though."

Hardison and Parker shot each other knowing smiles.

"Well, I can take her if you want." Hardison offered, knowing full well Eliot wouldn't accept it.

"No, I'll do it as soon as I'm not busy."

***

When evening rolled around the cat was still wandering around the back rooms of the brewpub, but Eliot's day had proven to be much less busy than he said. He had worked out a little, gone over the brewpub menu to make a few revisions and taken one client meeting, but all of that took less than half the day.

There should have been plenty of time to take the cat to the shelter. Hardison noted smugly to himself. But he doesn't want to say goodbye.

***

Tuesday really was a busy day. They spent the whole day planning, and executing a heist and by the time they got home, the shelter was closed for the evening.

Eliot grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and pressed it to his aching shoulder. Then he slumped down onto the couch with a sigh and leaned his head against the back, closing his eyes.

The fight he had with the security guards hadn't been particularly rough, but one of them had managed to wrench his shoulder pretty bad. he had popped a couple painkillers on the way home, but it was still aching.

He looked up when he heard a tiny squeak from the cat as she jumped onto the opposite end of the couch and made her way over to him.

The cat never seemed to meow properly. It always came out more like a raspy squeak, as if she had lost her voice. He was reminded once again of the cat he had as a kid, the only other cat he had ever known who had a meow like that.

She rubbed her head against his leg and walked in circles across his lap a few times before laying down and curling up on his lap, purring softly. Eliot scratched behind her ears, and she started purring louder.

Damnit. He thought. She's not going anywhere, is she? We're stuck with her now.

***

Wednesday morning, Eliot woke to find the cat wasn't asleep next to him like she had been when he fell asleep. He got up and wandered into the next room where he  found Parker, but the cat wasn't there. Neither was Hardison.

"Where's Hardison?" Eliot asked.

"Oh, He figured since we’re keeping the cat, it was probably time to take her to the vet and get her checked up. Ya know, make sure she doesn't have any illnesses or anything we need to know about. The only available time they had was first thing in the morning."

"Woah, we never agreed to keep..." Eliot trailed off and gave in, shaking his head. "Well make sure he knows to get a litter box while he's out."

Parker smiled and nodded.

"Damn cat." Eliot muttered fondly to himself as he set to work making breakfast.

“Also, we’re calling her Snickers.” Parker added.

Eliot smiled. He liked that name, mostly because Parker was the one who came up with it, but he liked it all the same.

[deliwrites]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕊𝕝𝕦𝕥 // 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 // Dream Team

// DATE // 26th of November 2022 // PAIRING // DreamTeam x fem!Reader, george x fem!reader, sapnap x fem!reader, dream x fem!reader // WARNING // flirty!reader, use of real names, tease!reader, playgirl(ish)!reader, reader being playfully teased   // WORDS // 2,5k+ // SUMMARY //  Your first day in America with the boys. (it's a bit of a filler cause I've been very busy with college, sorry!) // CREDIT // I have use a small paragraph of the first book of the "to be claimed" series from "Willow Winters". I highly recommend it if you are into a/o/b stuff.

// SERIES // Intro // Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // I’m open for serie title suggestions for this one! Feel free to comment your suggestion here or sent it into my inbox!

// MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

After our group hug, I looked up to actually look at Clay. Nick and George going to grab my suitcases.

“I knew you would be gorgeous,” I told him. I don’t think he was expecting exactly that. A loud chuckle coming from him in surprise. A bright smile covering my face. Standing on my tippy toes, I peck his cheek. “Now, where is Patches?” I ask with excitement. Don’t tell them I said this, but Patches is definitely the biggest reason I decided to move.

“Alright, let’s let those two deal with the suitcases,” we laugh at the two somehow struggling to get them out of the car. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, Clay starts leading the way to the front door.

“Patches!” I sing song the moment the front door closes behind us.

“Last I saw her she was in my ro-”  a meow interrupts him—patches. She walks over to us from the living room.

“Hmm,” I giggle evilly. “I guess you forgot to tell Patches about your plan,” smirking, I stand on my tippy toes again, this time pecking his lips now that we were in private. Clay smiles, only a little defeated. He did at least get a peck. I peck his lips two more times before walking over to Patches slowly. Lowering to the floor. “Hi cutie,” holding out my hand for her to sniff. Cautiously strutting over, she starts sniffing my fingers. Quickly after nudging my hand. Allowing me to pet her. “Awh, you like me already!” Gently I pick her up, cradling her in my arms like a baby.

“Of course, she likes you,” Clay says, watching fondly at the interaction. Watching me baby-talk to the cat. She somehow meowed back in response. “You’re part of the family,” getting up from the floor I sent him a smile. Still holding onto Patches who decided to hug me.

“So, where is my - unfinished -  room?” Before Clay can answer, the front door bursts open. George and Nick arguing as they stumble inside with my four suitcases. The commotion causing Patches to jump from my arms, using my shoulder. Leaving a slight stinging sensation from her claws. Running who knows where to hide from the two. “You guys okay?”

“I thought you packed light!” George exclaims, making the question sound more like a statement.

“I did?” I answered with confusion. I had been carrying all four suitcases and hadn’t really noticed one being heavier than the others. Maybe one because of books, but not so much heavier that it would cause such a struggle. Walking over I took the heavy suitcase, noting that it seemed heavier. Placing it on the floor. Unzipping it, I take a peek inside. “She did not,” I mutter, smacking the suitcase shut. I had no idea what else was in this suitcase. But I did not want them to see what mom had put in it.

“What? What’s in it?” Nick asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Let’s not worry about it,” I quickly go to zip up the suitcase, not noticing the look the three share. “Hey!” I squeak when I am suddenly pulled away from the suitcase. Clay having a tight hold on me. Leaving us both to sit on the floor. Trapped I am unable to move out of his hold as I trash around. I’m forced to watch Nick and George open the suitcase. The first thing in sight is a - one of my many - baby albums. One I didn’t plan on bringing, along with a box filled with other pictures from my childhood. Under those, I could see - spicy - books and a black Hunkamüller box. That box was not filled with lingerie tho. No, no, but I think you can guess when I tell you that I would rather have them look at my baby pictures.

“Y/n’s baby pictures,” George smirks. Immediately flipping through the pages quickly. Laughing when he finds a picture of me naked. Showing it to all of us, I was laid on a cushion, on my belly. Ass plumb nice and round in true baby fashion. ‘Awh’s filled the entree way as they continued flipping through them. All the while I groan in both embarrassment and frustration, hiding my face in my hands.

“They are just baby pictures!” I try to minimize the hype of the photo album. “I don’t know why mom packed those.”

“She packed it so we can tease you with it,” Clay says from behind me, still keeping me trapped in his hold. Though I stopped trashing, just letting it happen. Scoffing, I rolled my eyes, not that he could see.

“And what are these,” Nick grabs one of the few books in the suitcase. These were my favourites, there were more going to be shipped by my mom. But they didn’t need to know what they were about.

“Just books… Nothing to worry about,” maybe I should shut up though. I didn’t like lying and I especially couldn’t lie to these three idiots. Besides, nothing I say is going to make them stop looking through my stuff. I wouldn’t mind but like this, it felt very exposing. 

“To be claimed, Willow Winters,” Lucky for me I got the discreet version, so as long as they didn’t open the book I would be in the clear. “What’s this about?”

“I’m not saying anything,” I should really listen to my own advice. With a mock scoff, George takes the book from Nick. Opening it to a random page.

“Before the torn clothing even hits the floor, his tongue-”

“George stop,” I try to stop him from continuing as he reads from the book. He just glances at me, smirk devilishly on his lips.

“His tongue is on me. His rough stubble scratches against my inner thighs and it’s even better-”

“George ple-” before I can finish my plea Clay’s hand covers my mouth.

“Shh, we’re finding out how kinky you really are,” he says in a hushed tone.

“ ‘Please!’ I can’t stand the torture any longer. I need my release. He moves from between my legs and hovers over my body while wiping my glistening arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand. His lips are swollen and his silver gaze doesn’t hide his desperation to be inside me in the least. At least both of us are affected. ‘You need me to fuck you, Grace?’.”

“Wow, we know you’re horny, but not this horny,” Nick teases me when George stops reading. Thanks fuck. Pulling Clay's hand down I mock a laugh.

“At least the men in these books are able to pull more girls than you guys,” laughs fill the space. Clay finally let go of me. Thankfully they decided they had done enough snooping for today. Instead, actually deciding to show me around our home. Ending at my empty bedroom, lucky me, it has an ensuite.

“So, as I explained before, for now, we are rotating beds,” Clay says after putting one suitcase down in the room, George, Nick and I doing the same with the other suitcases. “Tonight, my room is all yours. Tomorrow George’s, then Nick’s. And it will repeat until your room is ready.” 

“Hmm, are you sure you trust me in your rooms?” I smirk evilly.

Around noon whilst we were all relaxing on the living room couch, my phone started ringing.

“Shit,” I mumble, quickly answering the phone. “H-hey mom..,”

“Y/full/n, you’ve made me worried sick! You said you would call when you landed!” my mom's voice rings loudly.

“I’m so sorry! I promise that I’m okay. I have arrived safely-”

“I don’t believe you! Hand the phone to George.”

“What? George is more believable than me?” I ask offended, the guys laughing at my reaction.

“Just hand over the phone, unless you’re not actually with them.”

“Okay, okay,” doing as told, I give my phone to Geoge who puts it on speaker.

“Hello Mrs Y/l/n,” he says calmly.

“Oh thank god, my angel hasn’t been kidnapped.”

“What!?” I exclaim. Clay wheezed beside George.

“Honey, the only way I would know for certain would be George’s British accent,” mom says like it’s nothing. “If you would have just turned your video on-”

“Mom-”

“It’s okay, Y/n, you can turn the cam on,” Clay reassures me like he was reading my mind.

“You sure?” He nods with a sweet smile. Taking my phone back from George. I turn on the front camera.

“There you are,” mom smiles tearily.

“See, I’m alright. I’m in one piece. I’ve just been fed by Clay,” I turn the camera trying to show her I was actually in one piece. Also showing the empty plate on my lap. “I’m being well taken care of.”

“As promised!” Nick says, popping his head into frame next to me. “Also thank you for making her bring a baby photo album,” he smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I actually can’t believe you put it in my suitcase!”

“Awh, but hun, I had to give the boys something to tease you with,” she grins like a Cheshire cat making the guys laugh.

“I thought you were on my side,” I pout.

“Oh, but I am. I am always on your side.” She says in that motherly voice. “But since I won’t see them myself. It meant I couldn't tease you with the pictures myself.”

“Fine, I’ll let you get away with it. But I’m definitely going to hide it.”

“Oh, we’ll find it,” Clay promises, making me reach over George, hitting his arm. 

The call goes on for a little while longer. Ending when Mom goes to bed.

At 9 pm I gave up on trying to keep myself awake. Saying goodnight to the guys, pecking their cheeks. Retreating into Clay’s room after sending him a wink. Using that as a way of saying he was allowed to join me when he went to bed.

I quite literally plummet onto the bed the moment I’ve undressed. Wrapping myself in the comfortable sheets. Which smells delightfully like Clay. It was such a new scent but it was so comforting. Almost like I hadn’t left home. I tried to fight the sleep but almost instantly fell asleep.

It was close to 2 am when Clay was finally able to sneak into his own room. George had gone to bed around 11:30 but Nick stayed up another hour. Not waiting to risk waking those two he had to wait longer. 

Grinning when he saw her figure in his sheets, her face nuzzled in his pillow. Quietly taking off his clothes. He crawls into his bed, on the other side of her. With gentle hands, he pulls her figure closer to him. She grumbled a bit, Clay softly chuckles. But that’s enough to make her stir. Blinking slowly Y/n looks at Clay, a smile forming on her lips.

“Hey,” she says sleepily, a lazy smile on her lips.

“Hi cutie,” he grins at the lazily blinking girl. She snuggles closer to the tall male. “You tired, baby?” she nods against his chest. “That’s alright, go back to sleep,” he pecks the top of her head. He obviously hoped something would happen between him and the teasing minx he was currently cuddling. But he understands how tired she is. It was a long day for her. So much to digest. A whole new life to get used to. There would be many more days for just the two of them. The thought of it brought a smile to his face. Not that she saw.

“Love you,” the confession shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it had. Y/n often told him, Nick and George, that she loves them. But hearing it in real life felt so much different.

“Love you too,” he replied softly, giving her another peck on her head. Clay laid awake for a while longer. Not used to sleeping with someone. Especially, someone, he cared for as much as Y/n. 

He had spoken about it before. And he truly means it. He spoke about Nick and George being his soulmates. Maybe not in the traditional sense. But he thinks the same of Y/n, it might just be a little different. What he knows for sure is that he loves the three of them so much.

The next day I was happy yet surprised to find Clay Next to me. A quick flash of a memory reminding me that he had joined me late last night. He was still asleep cuddled into me. With a grin, I worm my right hand free. Reaching up to softly caress his face. My thumb traces his cheek, his slight stubble catching on my skin. I took my time appreciating his face. Loving the light freckles scattering across his nose and cheeks. He had told me he had them of course, I just hadn’t seen them. And now I get to stare at them as long as I want. Beautiful lashes decorating his closed eyes. Wild curly dirty blond hair framing his face. Plumb slightly pouty bottom lip. Tracing my thumb softly across the pink skin. I watch as it subconsciously gets pulled into his mouth. Licking his lip softly, making me bite my lip. I quite desperately wanted to kiss him, but he’s asleep.

“I can feel you staring.”

“Huh? What? No, I’m not!” I replied startled. Turning away like I wasn’t just appreciating his face. He chuckles, pulling me closer to him. Arms wrapped tight but lovingly around my waist. Giggling as he peppers the top of my head with kisses. Turning back to face him I smile up at him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks gently, his left hand coming up to cup my cheek. A blush flushing my cheek as I nod to answer him.

“It feels like home,” I tell him. I wasn’t necessarily talking about sharing the bed with him. But it all just felt like it was normal. Like I didn’t just move countries. This is my home. With my three boys. It’s meant to be this way.

“I’m glad,” his voice is soft. Slowly leaning in, giving me the option to pull away. Instead, I met him halfway. Our lips slotted together in a tender kiss. No tongue, just lips pouring out feelings of finally making the dream come true. 

“Hmm, I’m hungry,” I tell him romantically the moment we pull away. Biting my bottom lip with a grin.

“Idiot,” Clay chuckles. “Go get dressed, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Okies,” I peck his lips once more before getting out of bed. Clay doing the same, smacking my ass to get moving. I squeak watching him smirk as he goes to his closet. Leaving the room, I go to mine. 

When everyone was awake we made plans. Our schedules weren’t free for shopping for the next two weeks. So we freed a random Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for shopping and building. Clay would have done his face reveal by then. So he agreed to do a building stream with me, along with George and Nick.

[thelastdiamondpiratealchemist]

"Star Goes to the Vet."

Star decides to help out an elderly woman by pretending to be her cat, but things go south very quickly for the poor shapeshifter.

Star watched quietly from Asha's family's hut as he watched the human girl walk up the path after a long day in the Kingdom of Rosas, but Star noticed something strange about Asha's appearance.

She looked frustrated.

Star couldn't quite understand why Asha seemed so upset, as she usually came home from the Kingdom with a joyful expression. Curiosity getting the best of him, Star approached Asha and inquired about her day.

"Hey Asha, is everything alright? You seem different today," Star gently asked, walking up to her; Asha sighed and shook her head as she sat on a chair, leaning against the base of the wall.

"You know Mrs. McKinley?" Asha asked. Star nodded his head in agreement.

"Yes! She's the one who bakes those round-shaped things with the black bitter-sweet chunks!"

"You mean 'cookies?" Asha scoffed a slight laugh; Star blinked with confusion.

"That's what they're called. Cookies?" he asked.

"Yes." Asha agreed; she placed her hands on her lap, "She lost her cat today, Mr. Whiskers, and she can't find him anywhere! Even worse, he has a checkup at the vet today that she wants to take him to."

Star lost his smile. He didn't understand what a "vet" was, but he wanted to help the elderly woman in any way he could.

"I could shapeshift into her cat!" Star offers, his smile returning as he reveals his white teeth, "That'll give you time to find Mr. Whiskers!"

Asha sat back up in the chair. She gave Star a concerned look, but before she could object, Star shapeshifted into Mrs. McKinley's calico cat.

“Ta-dah, look at me!” Star puffed out his chest.

"Star, I don't know. Do you know what they do at the vet…?" Asha warns, standing up from the chair. Star laughs and runs outside and down the path, running on all fours to Mrs. McKinley's hut.

"Well…I better start searching for the real cat…" Asha muttered.

Asha sighed and shook her head, her frustration growing with each moment. She had been looking for Mr. Whiskers for hours, but the elusive feline seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Meanwhile Star:

Star reached Mrs. Mckinley's hut; he scratched at the door and meowed repeatedly.

"Meow!" Star acted out, clearing his throat to sound more "kitty-like," "Meow!"

The door creaked open, revealing a distraught Mrs. McKinley.

"Oh, Mr. Whiskers!" she exclaimed, scooping Star into her arms. "I was so worried about you!"

Star purred contentedly, feeling a surge of warmth and satisfaction. He had never considered himself a cat, but it felt surprisingly comforting to be cuddled and fussed over.

"Come, let's go to the vet," Mrs. McKinley said, carrying Star out of the hut, "We'll get your blood work done, your temperature taken, and your heart and lungs checked. You have a busy day, Mr. Whiskers!"

"Anything to help!" Star thought, closing his eyes as he relaxed in the woman's arms.

He didn't know he was about to go through.

HELL.

At the vet, Star's ears lay flat against his head as he heard barking and meowing from various cages. The firm, pungent smell of antiseptic filled the air, making his eyes water. He watched with growing unease as other animals were taken into different rooms, only to emerge looking terrified or in pain.

"It's okay, Mr. Whiskers," Mrs. McKinley whispered, stroking his fur. "We'll be out of here soon."

Star tried to purr, but it was a pathetic little squeak. He didn't like this place one bit.

Finally, it was their turn. Mrs. McKinley carried Star into an examination room, where a vet with a cold, unfriendly face greeted them.

"Let's see what we have here," the vet said, taking Star from Mrs. McKinley's arms. She placed Star on the table as her assistant, Sarah, kept a gentle grip on Star's furry back to keep him still.

"Let's check his teeth." The vet places rubber gloves onto her hands, and using a pair of forceps with sharp prongs, Star lets out a yelp as she pries open his mouth and scrapes at his teeth, "Nice and healthy! Now, let's take his temperature."

Star shuttered nervously, expecting his temperature to be taken by his mouth, but instead, the vet pulled out a long, cold thermometer and inserted it into his rectum. Star gasped and tried to squirm away, but Sarah held him firmly.

"Hold still," the vet snapped. "This won't take long."

Star gritted his teeth and endured the indignity, his tail twitching nervously. Finally, the vet removed the thermometer and checked the reading.

"Hmm, slightly elevated," she said. "That could indicate an infection. We'll need to do some blood work to be sure."

Star's heart sank. He had never had his blood drawn before, and he couldn't imagine anything more terrifying. The vet drew a vial of blood from his leg, and Star let out a pitiful mew as he felt the sharp prick of the needle.

"Now, let's listen to his heart and lungs," the vet said, placing a stethoscope on Star's chest. "Hmm, a bit fast, but otherwise sounds normal."

Star sighed with relief. At least that part was over. But then, the vet reached for something on the counter.

"I think we'll give him a shot of antibiotics," she said. "Just to be on the safe side."

Star's eyes widened in horror. He had never had a shot before, and he had heard stories from other animals about how painful they were. He tried to pull away, but Sarah's grip was too firm.

"Mew!" Star cries out. Sarah scratches under his chin, helping him relax.

The vet ignored his pleas and injected the needle into his leg. Star let out a piercing yelp and thrashed violently, but Sarah held him down until the vet was finished.

"There, that should do it," the vet said, packing her things. "You can take him home now."

Mrs. McKinley thanked the vet and carried Star out of the examination room. As they walked out of the clinic, Star couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. He had survived the ordeal and was grateful to Mrs. McKinley for taking him in.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Mr. Whiskers," Mrs. McKinley said, stroking his fur. "I know it was scary."

Star purred softly, nuzzling his head against her hand. He didn't mind the pain or the fear as much as he minded being away from Asha. He couldn't wait to get back to her.

Mrs. McKinley returns home with Star in her arms; she places him carefully onto the couch, a warm and nice spot in the summer sun. Star relaxes slightly, stretching his body outwards.

"I'll bring you a nice bowl of milk, Mr. Whiskers, for being a good kitty at the vet." Mrs. McKinley praised, rushing over to the kitchen

.

Elsewhere:

Asha continued her search for the real Mr. Whiskers, her frustration growing with each passing moment. She had searched every nook and cranny of her hut, but the elusive feline seemed to have vanished into thin air.

She heard a faint meow from the bushes outside when she was about to give up. Asha's heart skipped a beat as she rushed over to investigate.

There, sitting in the shade of a rose bush, was Mr. Whiskers. He was covered in dirt and leaves, and his fur was matted with burrs. But it was definitely him.

"Mr. Whiskers!" Asha exclaimed, scooping him up into her arms. "I'm so glad I found you!"

Mr. Whiskers purred loudly, rubbing his head against Asha's cheek. Asha couldn't help but smile. She had been so worried about him.

"Let's get you home," Asha said, carrying Mr. Whiskers back to Mrs. McKinley's house and switching Mr. Whiskers out for Star without being caught.

Asha and Mr. Whiskers returned to Mrs. McKinley's house, where they found Star relaxing on the couch; she tapped her finger onto the glass window, waking Star up from his nap.

"Psst, Star!" Asha hissed, holding up Mr. Whiskers where Star could see him, "I found him! You don't have to pretend that you're Mr. Whiskers anymore!"

"Great!" Star stood from the couch and jumped onto the wooden floor, "No more vet visits for me!"

"Star, where is Mrs. McKinley?" Asha asked.

"Upstairs asleep," Star replied, Asha nodded and pointed towards the back of the house.

"Meet me in the backyard." She whispered.

Star and his furry little feet scurried outside into the back door; he squeezed his fat body through the cat door, grunting as he pushed through.

"Shapeshift into something else!" Asha spoke, kneeling on the backdoor step as Star continued.

Star nodded and concentrated, shifting into a small falcon. He flapped his wings and soared into the sky, feeling the wind rushing through his feathers. Asha watched in awe as Star circled above her, letting out a triumphant screech.

As a falcon, Star had a newfound sense of freedom and power. He flew higher and higher, feeling the thrill of the open sky. Asha smiled, knowing that Star could finally experience something new and exciting.

After a few minutes of soaring, Star landed back down in front of Asha, shifting back into his human form. He grinned at her, his eyes shining with excitement.

"That was amazing!" Asha exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. "You're so talented, Star."

"Thanks, and now let's get the real Mr. Whiskers inside before Mrs. McKinley wakes up and finds out the truth." Star rushed with his words, taking Mr. Whiskers from Asha's arms and quickly snuck him back into the house. They carefully placed Mr. Whiskers on his favorite spot on the couch.

Star sneaks outside and closes the wooden door behind him, revealing that the day is finally over; Asha crosses her arms onto her chest and smiles at Star.

"How was your trip to the vet?" she teased, leading Star away from the backyard and into the busy streets of the Kingdom. Star frowned as she felt a shiver climb down his spine; he quickly rubbed his back end with his hand.

Star chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, Asha laughed and bumped shoulders with him.

"Did you learn about how they take animal temperatures?" Asha teased, poking Star's stomach, Star's face turned pale, and he quickly shook his head.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper; Asha laughed to herself as she held Star's hand.

"How about we get some dinner?" she offered, trying to make Star feel better.

Star smiled and nodded, eager to put the horrors of the vet behind him. He had learned a valuable lesson that day: never underestimate the power of shapeshifting, and he was glad to have Asha by his side to help him through it all.

Star couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder as they walked through the bustling streets of the Kingdom of Rosas. The Kingdom was a vibrant and colorful place, filled with people from all walks of life.

Merchants were selling their wares, musicians were playing their instruments, and children were running and laughing in the streets.

Star had never seen anything like it before. He had grown up in a small village in the sky, where life was simple and predictable. But here in this Kingdom, anything seemed possible, especially with Asha by his side.

[whollyjoly]

tag game

✨get to know me✨

thank you @xxluckystrike @panzershrike-pretz @luckynumber4 for the tags my loves 💕

- Name:

em! (although Occasional Cult Leader and Obsessed With Alton More are acceptable as well 😂)

- Pronouns:

she/her/hers!

- Star sign:

CRAB SIGN CRAB SIGN CRAB SIGN ���🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀 ...no but actually im cancer sun cancer moon cancer mercury, the stars really said fuck you you're gonna be an emotional wreck and they were goddamn right

- # of siblings and fun facts about them (if you have any):

only child babyyyyyyyy ...well technically i have three step-sibs, but they are all older and were out of the house by the time our parents moved in together, so i never really? experienced sibling-ness with them?

- # of pets & their names:

my baby, my child, my little monster, the love of my life, my sweet cat BD-2 💕 she is an absolute fluffy menace, little miss priss, the queen of the castle, and im obsessed with her. nicknames include: Squeaky (cause she doesn't meow, she squeaks), Squeaks, The Squeaky One, The Lord Squeaketh (and The Lord Demandeth the Play), Shrimp Whiskers, Menace, Floof Creature, Angel Who Has Never Done Any Wrong, and Baby 🥰

- Fandoms:

lord i have been in so many fandoms over my many tumblr years...right now its full Band of Brothers hyperfixation season, but I'm watching M*A*S*H for the first time right now and slowly am falling into the rabbit hole also im a star wars girlie from way back (shoutout to all my old clone wars moots who were probably like "what the fuck" when i started posting about wwii men, sorry not sorry) also also: watcher, doctor who, star trek (tos mostly), chernobyl, and various other things, as a treat✨

- Favorite color:

im an olive green girlie, although deep purple has a special place in my heart!

- Favorite song:

holocene by bon iver ❤️ it's my all time favorite song, the song i listen to when my anxiety feels overwhelming, what i put on when i need to center myself and get out of my head. (someway, baby, it's part of me, apart from me)

- Favorite author (of anything readable - books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!):

sooooo my all-time fav book is Invisible Cites by Italo Calvino!! i am absolutely obsessed with the way he describes physical places and emotions, the metaphors and imagery and the way he describes the feeling a place or person can give you without actually describing it at all? it's both dreamlike and ethereal and grounded and real at the same time, and i just....love it so much. here's one of my favorite bits from the book:

Cities & The Sky [3] Those who arrive at Thekla can see little of the city, beyond the plank fences, the sackcloth screens, the scaffoldings, the metal armatures, the wooden catwalks hanging from ropes or surrounded by sawhorses, the ladders, the trestles. If you ask, "Why is Thekla's construction taking such a long time?" the inhabitants continue hoisting sacks, lowering leaded strings, moving long brushes up and down, as they answer, "So that its destruction cannot begin." And if asked whether they fear that, once the scaffoldings are removed, the city may begin to crumple and fall to pieces, they add hastily, in a whisper, "Not only the city." If, dissatisfied with the answers, someone puts his eye to a crack in a fence, he sees cranes pulling up other cranes, scaffoldings that embrace other scaffoldings, beams that prop up other beams. "What meaning does your construction have?" he asks. "What is the aim of a city under construction unless it is a city? Where is the plan you are following, the blueprint?" "We will show it to you as soon as the working day is over; we cannot interrupt our work now," they answer. Work stops at sunset. Darkness falls over the building site. The sky is filled with stars. "There is the blueprint," they say.

- Favorite fic type:

oh i will eat up...anything. literally anything. BUT if i had to pick, i have a special place in my heart for: soulmate AUs, angst with a happy ending, fake relationship AUs, hurt/comfort, time loops, magical realism AUs (particularly if canon-divergent), and the good old classic, fluffy modern AUs 💕

- Favorite Holiday:

i fucking...love christmastime okay?? i love the traditions my family has for it, like Short Feast on the winter solstice (where we eat Short Ribs and Short Grain Rice and Short Vegetables and Shortbread and put on our Short Pants and drink Short Bottles of Whiskey and go outside to Welcome the Coming of the Light, after the Longest Night of the Year), as well as finding/writing poems on Christmas Eve and walking to the large 600+ year old sequoia trees in our neighborhood to recite them and bring good energy to the new year, to watching It's A Wonderful Life every year. holidays and traditions are so much what you make of it, and i love the energy my family brings into it - nothing is precious, but everything is sacred.

- Do you have a partner (romantic, qpr, anything!)?:

ye, i have a bf!

- Hobbies:

i love to cross-stitch! it helps my adhd ass brain focus on things, so if ever im watching a show or listening to a podcast, i usually have a hoop in my hands. i also love board games - particularly social deception games! and of course - watching tv/movies, reading fic, consuming media, making moodboards, dreaming up fic ideas, and all the lovely things you see me talk about here on tumblr 💕

- Fun facts about you:

uhhhhhhhhhhhh i dont?? know if i have a fun fact?? about me??? OH WAIT okay this is for the bob fans out there - so i was visiting philly not all that long ago, and went to both front street and 17th street in south philly For Our Boys, bill and babe ❤️ and while i was there, i went into a bookstore that was right on s 17th street... and they had a SINGLE copy of bill and babe's book!! i got it of course, and it felt like it was absolutely meant to be!!

tagging, if you want!: @sweetxvanixlla @ronsparky @coco-bean-1218 @onlyyouexisthere @mutantmanifesto @samwinchesterslostshoe @ewipandora @blood-mocha-latte

[ask-sebastian]

[a familiar tawny owl lands on your desk and drops down a large brown parcel. there is an orchid tied to the front and inside a small pot and soil for the bloom, as well as a collection of your favourite treats, a jar of fresh coffee grounds and a few beast treats]

Seb,

Its been a while and it feels strange to say I miss you when we're in the same house and share a common room, but with all the running around to catch up after my time off I haven't had much time to spare for my favourite people. I hope you've been taking care of yourself, I've put together a little care package for you so that I know you're eating something.

Hopefully things will calm down soon and we can meet and catch up. The kitten misses you (although, she's grown considerably since you last saw her) and will meow in indignation every time I try and take your scarf away from her so I can return it to you

PS; the treats are obviously for Nosey (but apparently are safe for human consumption as well). Please give the little ball of joy a kiss on the head from me.

Sebastian gave the orchid a contemplative look as he set it aside. He would need seek some advice on how to keep the flower alive in the dim chill of the Slytherin dorms from someone with better herbology skills than he possessed.

Before he could unpack the rest of the parcel, he felt a familiar clawing up his trouser leg. He shifted back in his chair just enough so Nosy could scramble up. Sebastian laughed quietly when Nosy immediately planted his hind paws on his lap and stretched up toward the box, nearly dragging it off the desk when he tried to peer down in.

"An impatient one today..." Sebastian wrapped an arm around his furry middle and gently pulled him back down, then leaned over and retrieved the pouch of beast treats from the parcel. He dangled it enticingly in front of the Nosy's snout, but instead of taking it eagerly, Nosy turned him, his snout lifted in what could only be described as an affronted tilt whilst he chittered and squeaked unhappily. A proper, huffy telling-off, if nifflers were capable of that sort of thing.

"Spoilt rotten..." he muttered without any real sense of irritation. He wrestled Nosy away from the box again as he pulled open the pouch with his teeth and dumped the contents in a small bowl next to Iris's perch. At least she was more easily appeased.

With a wriggling Nosy tucked under one arm, Sebastian finally reached into the small package of treats with his free hand and pulled out a fresh pasty. Nosy immediately made a wild flailing grab for it, but Sebastian held it just out of reach.

"Ah, ah, ah." Sebastian took a hearty bite, large enough that there was only half a pasty left, and sighed happily. Spiced apple. His favourite this time of year, and as tempting as it was to devour the whole thing, he instead held out the other half to Nosy, who did not hesitate swiping it from his hands. Finally appeased, the niffler settled happily into Sebastian's lap to enjoy his treat.

Sebastian patted him affectionately, dropping a couple kisses in his head just as the letter instructed, and penned his response.

It seems difficult to find time to slow down these days, but I do hope that my owl finds you well and that you are in good form. As always, I thank you for your generosity. The treats are delicious. (Nosy agrees.)

Sebastian glanced down. His lap was full of an excess of niffler and crumbs, but there was no holding back his smile.

I promise that I am taking care of myself--to the best of my ability at any rate. Decently watered, semi-regularly fed, and minimally well-rested. Before you protest, I shan't hear a word about it. There are just some things that will never change.

By the way, don't fret about attempting to return the scarf. It's been so long out of my possession I can hardly claim any sort of ownership now. Please accept it with my compliments.

Until we meet again, Sebastian

[sophswritingthings]

Longstar AU - Chapter Four

    “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath the High Rock for a clan meeting!”

    That familiar yowl of his clan leader sounded in his ears. He knew what was happening. Unfairly, only Cloudpaw was becoming a warrior. Swiftpaw, Brightpaw and Thornpaw should all being getting their names, too. But their deputy didn’t have the heart to even try to get these deserving apprentices their names.

    Even though he didn’t want to, he crawled out of bed and settled into the group of cats. He gazed up at Bluestar, the sun beating down on her blue pelt. She looked.. grayed, frail, and weak.

     “This apprentice has proved that he is worthy to be a warrior of ThunderClan,” Bluestar began, gazing down at Cloudpaw. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and defend the clan, even at the cost of your life?”

      “I do,” Cloudpaw sat high and proud, his tail bushed up.

      “Than by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name,” Bluestar meowed loud and clear, though her voice still a bit raspy. “You will now be known as Cloudtail. StarClan honors your courage and independence, and welcomes you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”

       “Cloudtail, Cloudtail!” The clan cheered.

       “Clan dismissed,” Bluestar hopped down from the High Rock, sliding back into her den.

       Despite obviously feeling offended and upset by the choice to only make Cloudtail a warrior, the other apprentices padded up to their friend, congratulating him.

       “I think Fernpaw should have been made a warrior before that fluffball,” Darkears growled from behind, talking to seemingly another warrior. “Our leader is weak. Our deputy is a kittypet, this clan is not worth the trouble we go through for it.”

       Longtail turned, laying his eyes on who he was really talking to. Kits? He’s talking to kits? His eyes traveled to Darkears, narrowing his eyes. He was trying to convince kits, let alone Tigerstar's kits that ThunderClan was weak. And for what? What was his goal?

       “Come on, kits,” Darkears voice dropped to a murmur, “I want to show you a real clan, and a real clan leader.”

        Bramblekit and Tawnykit glanced at each other, excited expressions over their faces. With smiles, they followed Darkears out of the camp.

         Following his instinct, Longtail padded out of the camp. He picked up Darkears scent, slowly padding after the dark tabby tom. And before he knew it, he knew where they were going. ShadowClan.

         “Ah, there they are,” Tigerstar's voice filled his ears, causing a seething anger to rush through him. “Look at them. Beautiful, perfect kits.”

         “I agree,” Darkears purred. “Bramblekit, Tawnykit. This is Tigerstar. Your father.”

         “Hello!” Bramblekit squeaked, “How come your not in ThunderClan?” The little kit cocked his head.

         “ThunderClan wasn’t the clan for me, young kit,” Tigerstar brushed his tail across Bramblekit's side, “I went to ShadowClan, and became a leader. And you could do the same, if only you came with me.”

          What? I have to stop this! Longtail gazed at Tigerstar, his amber eyes glowing against the dark shadows of ShadowClan territory. If I come out.. he'll kill me.

          “Really?” Bramblekit mewed, his amber eyes wide as the moon, “Tawnykit too?”

          “Tawnykit too,” Tigerstar flicked the she-kit's ear with his tail.

          “Come on, kits,” Darkears crowded the two kits back toward ThunderClan territory, “You can visit Tigerstar tomorrow, okay? For now, you need to get back to your mother before someone realizes we’re gone.”

           “Yes,” Tigerstar narrowed his eyes a bit. “Run along and listen to Darkears. You can visit another time, and maybe even come to ShadowClan with me.”

            “Okay!” The two kits squealed, bounding after Darkears back into their territory.

            “I know you're there, Longtail.”

             The words sent a chill through his body, slowly rising from the bushes. He flattened his ears, unsheathing his claws.

             “Calm down. I’m not going to attack you, mouse-brain.” Tigerstar hissed, “Why are you following Darkears around? You must know he’s coming to visit me, don’t you?”

             “.. I didn’t, actually,” Longtail hissed. “Thanks for telling me, though.”

             Tigerstar sighed, “I always knew you were much weaker than Darkears,” He growled. “Not that he’s much better, the love sick idiot. But at the very least, he can see the truth. ThunderClan is weak without me. Your leader is falling apart, and your deputy is a kittypet.”

             “The reason ThunderClan is weak is not because your not there,” He growled, “ThunderClan is weak because you were there. The traitor that you were brought us down. And once your dealt with, we'll be much better.”

              He choked a laugh, “Do you seriously think your weak clan can hold against me?” He took a pace toward Longtail, his large, sharp claws unsheathed. “You must have bees in your brain if you think that you can beat me. One day, I’ll rule the forest, and you'll just be the crow food I’ve left behind.”

              With those words, Tigerstar turned back into his territory, disappearing into the shadows. Longtail took in a deep breath, turning tail back toward ThunderClan. Soon enough, he appeared at their camp entrance, Fireheart waiting at the entrance.

              “Oh, Longtail,” His ears flattened. “I was just about to go hunting.. care to join me?”

              Even if I don’t want to, I can tell Fireheart about Darkears. “Sure,” Longtail mewed, moving to the side to let the deputy through. The two tom’s padded through the territory. “Fireheart. I have something to tell you.”

               “Hm? What is it?” Fireheart paused, gazing at the tan and black tabby tom.

               “Darkears has been visiting Tigerstar, in ShadowClan,” He began. “I saw him. And I followed him. He took Bramblekit and Tawnykit with him and—“

               “.. Has he?” Fireheart mewed softly, “How do you know he’s been visiting Tigerstar? Have you been going with him?”

               “What? Fireheart—!”

               “I have my reasons to be suspicious of you, Longtail!” Fireheart yelped. “You were close with Tigerstar when he was part of the clan. And now your doing all that you can to have us trust you. To have me trust you. I can’t help but think that.. it’s something else.”

               “I’m not some spy for Tigerstar, I told you!” Longtail growled, “I want nothing to do with that flea-bag. I just want my clan to finally trust me again.”

                He was so fed up with no one trusting him. Especially Fireheart. He knew what it felt like to be an outcast in his own clan, and now he was doing the same thing to him. Turning tail, his rushed back into the camp.

                He slipped into his nest. It was only Sun High, but he needed some rest. Clear his mind. Plus, he didn’t want to deal with his untrusting clanmates. He didn’t want to hear how he could be a spy for Tigerstar, or how he was possibly betraying the clan. He just wanted to sleep, wake up and have it all be a terrible nightmare he was having.

                 “FIREHEART! FIREHEART!”

                 The shrill yelp sounded in his ears, waking him up as well as the other warriors in their den. His fuzzy, sleeping eyesight landed on a gray speckled tabby she-cat standing outside their den.

                 “Fernpaw? Fernpaw, what’s—“

                 “It’s Swiftpaw and Brightpaw!” Fernpaw yelped, her breathing heavy, “They went to Snakerocks to try and find whatever was stealing prey! They wanted to prove they could be warriors, and so they thought that finding it would help and I—“

                 “Breathe, Fernpaw, we'll find them before they can get there, okay?” Fireheart hopped to his paws. Longtail did the same, as well as Whitestorm. These were their apprentices, of course they were going to go.

                  The three cats set out, traipsing through the forest with quick paws.

                  As they approached Snakerocks, the stench of blood reached his nose.

[greypetrel]

Hello! 🌸✨ Aisling + n.8 hugging while walking?

Oh, hello, long time no see! 🌻💜

Hope you didn't think I had forgotten! :P

Here we go, this prompt served me this on a silver plate. It's Dark Lady AU, making Tevildo canon because yes. The Siamese cat is a she and I inserted my late one. She had a malformation on her vocal chords and... The vet told us she was aphonic, but she didn't know and meowed anyway. But it was either YELLING HORRIBLY, possibly in the deep of night, or screeching and squeaking like an old door. And she had a resting bitch face. Thought she could make an appearance, since she was mostly shy and invisible with strangers BUT with people who told they didn't like/hate cats.

This Miaule is the 17th in a long list of Miaules that preceeded him as the Dark Lady's personal companion.

Tis the prompt list.

Seven lives.

8. hugging while walking

“I’m not…” He cleared his throat, looking straight into the one remaining golden eye of the old, scruffed tabby that was held up in front of his face. “Ah, I’m more of a dog person.”

The cat, at that, got lowered back down and cradled in front of the bust of the Dark Lady. Who looked a little disappointed. With the tabby safely cradled on her prosthetic and settling itself against her shoulder, she started to scratch the animal behind his neck with her hand, absentmindedly, as she replied.

“Ah. I see.” The enthusiasm of when she brought him in a drawing room gone from her voice. “It may be… A little problem, if you don’t like them.”

The rooms he was brought to see, the corridors and even the throne room, were indeed inhabited by cats of all shapes and colours. Fluffy one that looked like clouds curled on sittings, not even waking up when you entered the room. Tabbies staring at you from corners with the keen eyes of predators. Siameses trotting right at you to greet you with a very eloquent meow. Red cats that headbutted your ankles and purred without a real reason to. Tuxedos up top furnitures perking up with whiskers starkingly white against the glossy black of their fur. Big cats, small cats, kittens, some with one eye, others with ears nibbed in fights, young ones and old ones, awake and asleep, all visibly very well fed and cherished. Wherever you turned, there was a cat. If not more.

Cullen didn’t notice the first time he was brought to Barad-Dur, but at that time, his mind was totally elsewhere. And seeing the Lady of the tower mildly pouting didn’t feel so much like a pang of regret.

“I- I don’t hate them!” He was quick to specify. Which was true. “I just… Like dogs more. Don’t really have much to share with cats. They’re useful, but… I prefer dogs.”

“You’re not saying this to please me, are you, Captain?” She inquires, squinting at him, a corner of her lips cracking up as she mocked him with his old title. “You can tell that you hate cats.”

“I do not. They won’t be a problem, my Lady.” He assured her, straightening his back and nodding, convinced.

He could survive some cats. What he asked of her, after all, was no little feat: the least he could do was to accept whatever… Flock of pets she decided to fill her tower with. And really, he wasn’t scared of cats He just never liked them much: useful, sure, but they were unfriendly, cold and aloof. Dogs were just better, he thought. Dogs at least were happy to see you.

She observed him for some moments more, looking for who knew what as the cat she held in her arms started to purr and rub his head on her neck and jaw. She sighed, after a while, and nodded, walking out of the drawing room and back into a corridor. He followed her, one step behind and on her right – on the opposite side of the cat.

They were alone, and the situation was a little awkward. The war ended, she somehow survived against all previsions, and got back to Mordor with a treaty signed by King Aragorn himself, establishing borders and an alliance. He got back to Minas Tirith and brought Cupcake along (the Warg was, indeed, a great companion, loyal and keenly intelligent), and thought about things. Each of them had their own problems and issues to solve privately, and they had said goodbye, not mentioning much of anything. That one night before they reached Isengard, the words she almost told him when she thought she was dying.

He eventually had come to his decision, and turned his steps East.

Oh, she had been perfectly polite when he had showed up at her door. Some orcs at the Black Gate had showed him to her Tower and to the queue for court. She had been surprised to see him, and she had smiled. She had stopped smiling when he asked her for some privacy, was left alone with just her and the Witch-King (“He’s my right hand. What I know, he knows. You can trust him as you’d trust me. Speak.”) and told her he needed help in quitting with the potions the guards drank. She listened to him explaining symptoms and what would happen, looked intently at the sample he brought her and left him to Dorian, then nodded and granted him a safe harbour and assistance. And showed him around.

Because apparently, when he thought she would have given him a hut or some external settlement he could have some privacy, she really meant to keep him in a guest room in her tower, where she or her healers could tend to him better. “I wouldn’t leave you on your own, not unless you so wished”. She told him. “But I’d advise you against it. It’s powerful magic to impose magic on someone else, I would rather have you here to know you’re fine and help you, if we can, than knowing you’re close, but on your own.”. It had been so different than what he had been used to, what he expected after a lifetime of being told to tend to himself, that he had not the heart to tell her no. Even if the idea of showing himself as sick made him way, way more ill at ease than the cats.

But, he had said yes she had showed him around – it was, indeed, a nice and cozy place. Some works were still being done here and there, but it had the aspect of being loved and cared for. All the doors had a tiny door that couldn’t fit a human, but whence he saw slipping out some cats. All the orcs they met greeted them politely, smiling. The rooms were cozy, designed with taste and to be first of all comfortable and functional, but not without grace and beauty. They had talked on the way, of comfortably neutral topics, and it had been almost as when they first knew each other.

But the cats- he had to ask.

“Why the cats?”

“Mh? Oh, you don’t know?” Aisling asked, some spark of joy shining into her eyes. She giggled. “I still thought they told the tale to children. Well, for a little time I was known as Tevildi, the Princess of Cats. I took the form of a cat, for a while, but I didn’t really like the collar.”

“I never heard of it.”

“Thanks Iluvatar! It’s not very flattering, and it just says that cats are evil.” She moved the cat on her shoulder so she could face him, and kept speaking in a higher pitch than before. “And you’re really not evil, right Miaule the 17th? You’re a fluffy little baby!”

She kissed his nose loudly, and the cat -an old beast that visibly saw too many scuffles and as many winters, was mangy from old age and had a very grumpy expression on his face- mrowed aloud. Cullen wasn’t sure he was really happy about it, but the Maia ignored it, letting him perch on her shoulder again, tail snapping nervously down her arm but not trying to jump away, and keeping walking hugging the feline.

“And you had a collar?”

“Yes, a golden one. It looked good against black fur, you see. But it had a most annoying bell that tinkled whenever I moved… And let me tell you, with a cat’s hearing it was the most annoying thing ever.”

“I…” He still wasn’t used to how casually she talked about a long gone past when she had not been treated that right. He still didn’t know how to talk about it without causing her pain. “… I can’t imagine you collared. Bell or no.”

It was, apparently, the right thing to say. Or not a terribly wrong one. She turned her head towards him and smiled that sad smile she had when she was grateful.

“Thank you. Me neither. I discarded that form soon. It’s nice to curl and sleep whenever, but I much prefer having opposable thumbs.”

“I pictured you as a dog person too, after the Wargs.” He confessed, smiling at the idea of her as a cat.

“I like all animals. But cats… Cats were a gift.” Her smile turned far away and sad, and he knew whose gift it was exactly. “Another thing that nobody wanted. Another pet project to keep me distracted. Keep me collared.” Her voice, too, turned sour, but the cat, perking up on her shoulder as in reaction, pushed on his front paws and headbutted his Lady, with another mrow. A less grumpy one. She seemed to calm down, at that, hand coming to caress the back of the animal as she stopped in front of a door. “But I do love them. They’re special, and great companions. You just have to give them some understanding and earn their trust. And that’s a gift most precious than any jewel.”

For a moment, right then, Cullen understood. And indeed connected her with a fluffy red cat that could purr and be soft, and be a ruthless predator the next moment. He stood there to look at her looking lovingly at old Miaule the 17th she was still hugging, the connection between them visible. And wished intensely that she still could look at him with the same eyes.

When she turned towards him, at last, for a moment he believed she could.

And he must have looked at her somewhat weirdly as well, because she cleared her throat, lowered her eyes and stepped back, gently accompanying the cat back on the floor and opening the door they were in front of.

“But I prattled enough for today.” She declared, stepping back on the threshold to give him space to pass. “Here’s your room, I hope it has everything you need.”

The space was spacious without being overtly so. A big window opened west, showing off the mountains and a cut of blue sky where the cloud enchantment ended. The curtains were ready to be pulled. A low bed with a small ottoman on its feet, where his luggage has been already deposited… And three cats sleeping all together right at the pillows, sinking a little in the blankets and testifying for how soft the pillow and the bedding were. A fireplace cracking merrily, a carpet on the floor, an armchair and a writing station. Then a small wardrobe and a door that had another small cat door in it, making him fail to guess where it could lead. The colours were muted and dark, but overall it was relaxing and cozy, and really more luxurious than he ever dreamed.

“It’s too much for me.” He couldn’t but saying, trying to hide how he yes, felt out of place… And how worried he was about how would have he done to shoo the cats away. Maybe he could ask if he could allow Cupcake -brought to the kennels with his siblings- up here.

Aisling, tho, laughed, and stepped on his side, arms crossed behind her back and looking up at him with a smile.

“It’s just enough.” She corrected him. “Pull that string beside the bed and Lazgar will come. She’s not young anymore and will insist on propriety. But she is trusted.”

“I… I don’t know how to thank you, my Lady.”

“Well, a good way would be to call me by my name, when we’re alone.” She suggested. “I think we’re past honorifics, aren’t we.”

He couldn’t but agree, even if it brought a rush of heat to his cheeks that made him turn his eyes away in shyness. She giggled subtly at it, but made no mention of it when she spoke.

“Well, I’ll leave you to settle down. Call if you need something, and if you look for me, I’m usually in my private library when I’m here. Just find the stairs and go up until you can, and that’s the door you should knock. Have I already told you the time of meals?”

She started to ramble, talking quickly and following a line of thought. If she was distracted, tho, Miaule was attentive, his one green eye fixed upon Cullen with a judgemental stare, tail swaying down the prosthetic his fluffy butt was perched upon.

“You did, my- Aisling.” He corrected, last minute. She smiled at it. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“I hope you will.” She replied, still smiling.

She greeted him one last time -made the cat bid goodbye too waving one of his paws gently left and right and making a voice for him as well- and left him alone in what was apparently his new space.

It was, cozy and quiet, even if the ceiling was too high. But it had a nice view of the mountains and the sky, and Cullen thought he would have found himself at ease, there. The idea of showing up sick and at his lowest scared him a little less.

There was, now, only one problem.

“Ok, you three, I think we’ll need some discipline…”

He told the three cats curled on the bed. One -a weird one all cream coloured, but with his face, ears, paws and tail black- rose its head and looked at him with blue eyes full of contempt, as if waiting to hear why exactly he dared disturbing them.

“First rule, not on the bed.” He announced them, seriously.

And made his first weak attempt to move the cats down without having them scratching him. He didn’t know how to pick them without hurting, and he didn’t want to hurt them. After a couple of trials to just shoo them, slipping his hands under their bodies and pushing gently up, he realised that he really had to ask someone how to deal with cats.

Because now he had not one, but three little muzzles with triangle ears all looking at him expectingly.

“… Or maybe you could stay for now. I did disturb you nap, after all.” He conceded. “But it’s either you or me, ok? You can have the bed during the day, and it’s mine for the night. Is it reasonable for you?”

The Siamese cat opened his mouth and made one single weird screeching sound at him. A meow, but high pitched, as if it wasn’t really accustomed to it. It held the same contempt of its look, and Cullen knew it was a “no.”

“… We’ll need to find a solution.” He insisted.

And feeling very silly for being there talking with three stubborn felines that he thought were the real owners of the room he was assigned, he sat on the corner of the bad and started to unpack his baggage, hoping he would have been ignored.

The Siamese, tho, appearently the chief of the three, quietly padded towards him.

It startled him, when she headbutted his elbow with decision. Cullen jumped, and the cat jumped too.

“I-I’m sorry? I didn’t expect to- Oh. Well. Ok?”

He fumbled, as the feline, not, impressed by his apologies at all, got closer again and started to sniff him. Hopped on his lap and slipped its head in his bag.

Not knowing how do act with a cat on his lap, and feeling too close to four sets of claws for comfort, Cullen let the creature do as it please. The other two reached the first, and soon after, he had three cats sniffing around, inspecting what he took out of his bag, biting the strap of the bag.

The Siamese lied down abruptly on his lap, all of a sudden letting go of its own weight on his paws and lying on its side on his thighs, with a deep sigh and all the air of a being that had no intention of moving. Indeed it stayed there until he had unpacked all his clothes at his side and left the empty bag to the second cat – a red one- to hop into and make a nest. The third, instead, a black one with long fur, curled right onto the pile of his shirts, which Cullen suspected will keep staying white for little longer.

The Siamese fell asleep, not caring of the Rohirrim’s pleads to please, move and let him up.

Maybe he would have been late for dinner, it seemed.

[taliesin-19]

Mastermind

Harry had never liked cats.

Rather, he liked them when they belonged to other people. He did not like the prospect of owning one, himself.

"They own us, more like," Abby would say whenever he mentioned it.

And yet, somehow, two stray kittens had ended up on their doorstep one night meowing loudly for food, and everyone's hearts had simultaneously melted.

Even Harry's.

And though he put up a fight, Guinevere and Lancelot moved in the very same day.

They were complete menaces from the start. Wreaking havoc around the house in the middle of the night.

"It's called having the 'zoomies'," Abby explained as a crash was heard downstairs. "They zoom around to get their energy out."

"It's called having no proper night's sleep," Harry said, placing his hands over his eyes.

"As they get older, they tend to calm down."

"Yeah, that's what people said about having children," Harry said. "Still not true."

Abby laughed. "What, are you thinking of giving them away?"

As soon as she said the words, a little squeak was heard as a light body gracefully hopped on the bed.

Gwen was purring louder than a motor as she curled on top of Harry's stomach, her paws and tail tucked in neatly.

"Maybe we can push through and wait out the toddler years," Harry said, petting the kitten gently with a sweet smile.

Abby tried to hide her grin. "These little monsters found a way to sneak into your heart, didn't they?"

"No, I'm just too noble for my own good," Harry said.

Picking up Lance who had just joined them as well, Abby brought his face close to Harry's. "Or maybe they're just too clever," she said, kissing the kitten's forehead as it rubbed against her chin. "Little masterminds."

"Whatever," Harry said, as Lance climbed on top of his pillow and sat there like a loaf.

Abby giggled at the sight, knowing the real truth was...Harry was just too soft.

[quietplace26]

(This is the repost I promised. Mind you I made it longer, added a few new things here and there. Hope you like this newer version of this au.)

Rememeber my Kitty Mayhem au? The au where KK and his team were cursed to be kitties? I'm doing a different version. Let me introduce Kitty!Akito and Kitty!Mari!

What a CAT-astrophe au

It was a dark, cold rainy night in Shibuya, and not a soul was out wandering the streets because of this.

Everyone in Shibuya should've been at home, eating a hearty meal and staying warm.

Too bad that wasn't the case for a certain pair of siblings....

Sitting under a soggy cardboard box was two shivering kittens. The bigger one was male and the smaller was female. They look like normal street cats, don't they? Well, they aren't.

These two 'kittens' were Akito and Mari Izuki, two unlucky human siblings that were unfortunate enough to catch the attention of a corrupted Nekomata.

It just happened so quickly! One moment the Izuki siblings were peacefully walking home after getting some groceries, the next a scary looking cat with two tails was suddenly in front of them!

Besides the two tails, there was dark smoke pouring out it's mouth as it stared at the siblings hungrily with it's deep red eyes...

It ends up attacking Akito and Mari, and during it's attack, the creature starts chanting. Neither Akito or Mari could understand what it was saying, but then they started shrinking!

That monster-! It turned them into kittens!

Luckily for the siblings, they managed to escape the beast before it could finish whatever it was originally planning on doing with the former humans.

Now here they were as defenseless little kittens! And to make matters worse, that scary looking cat monster, which was apparently a real life Nekomata, who also cursed them to look like this, was still somewhere out there looking for them!

"Aki... I-I'm so cold..." Kitty!Mari whimpers as she snuggles closer to Kitty!Akito for warmth. Her little body was shivering violently...

Kitty!Akito looks at her worriedly. He had no idea what to do! They were cats now, so they couldn't just ask for help as no human could understand them now! And there was still the issue with that Nekomata hunting them...

So with a tired sigh, Kitty!Akito curls up protectively around his sister's smaller form, whispering how they were going to be fine as long as they had eachother...

*THUMP* Something lands outside their box, making the kitty siblings tense up in fear as their shelter was ripped away.

To their absolute horror it was the Nekomata, and it looked hungry! "I FouND YoU!" It yowls out as it lunges at them with the intent to kill!

Kitty!Akito covers Kitty!Mari with his body and clenches his eyes shut, waiting for pain to come.

...But the pain never comes. Instead, the Nekomata yowls again, this time in apain as it was suddenly dragged away from the kitty siblings.

"Hm?" Kitty!Akito opens his eyes and sees a group of human near the opening of the alley way. One human was using an odd golden rope to drag the yowling Nekomata over to him.

The man makes a few strange hand motions and the yowling Nekomata shatters to dust, leaing nothing behind to show it existed in the first place..

"W-wow..." Kitty!Akito whispers in awe, but quickly jerks back when the humans finally notices him and Kitty!Mari.

"Oh! Cats!" A girl Mari's age squeaks happily as she walks over to the kitty siblings with an excited look on her face, but then she pauses.

"Erika? What's wrong?" Another human, a scary looking lady asks the girl worridly.

"KK? Rinko? I don't think these are normal cats."

KK, the man who destroyed the Nekomata, steps forward and gets a closer look at the kitty siblings. "...Yeah. These aren't normal cats, but they aren't Nekomatas either."

Kitty!Akito lets out a shocked meow when KK plucks him off the ground to stare at him closely. "You... You're a human, aren't you?"

Kitty!Akito stops struggling at KK's question and nods with a tired meow.

KK sighs, rubbing his free hand down his face in annoyance as he mutters a tired, "Great." He then drops the shivering kitten in one of his trenchcoat pockets.

Kitty!Akito pokes his head out the pocket with a confused meown, but KK just pats his head, urging him gently back into the warm pocket.

"Erika you hold the other cat, and Rinko, call Ed and Dale... Looks like we still have a case to solve."

To Kitty!Akito's relief, this strange group of humans take him and Kitty!Mari somewhere dry and warm. They were safe now!

After being given some food, the kitty siblings were then placed in front of a keyboard where they were asked to type their names out and explain what exactly happened to them.

When the kitty siblings typed out everything, a foreigner with glasses stands up and walks out the room without saying a word.

Kitty!Akito, who was snuggled next to his sister in a nest of warm blankets and pillows, looks over to KK with a confused meow and head tilt.

KK gives him an amused look. "Ed doesn't really like talking to people much. That also inculdes me and the rest of the team. He's just getting some recordings ready so he can explain everything to us."

Ed does come back with a few recordings a few minutes later, and with these recordings he explains that the curse on Kitty!Akito and Kitty!Mari was thankfully not permanent.

In fact, the curse should be gone in a week or two at most! So until the curse was completely gone, both Kitty!Akito and Kitty!Mari would be remain under KK and his team's protection till then.

Kitty!Akito relaxes at the knowledge of knowing that both he and his sister would be humans again soon enough.

Before settling down for the night, Kitty!Akito looks over at KK, who was doing some work nearby, and meows at him, gaining the older man's attention.

The older man raises an eyebrow at him. "What is it?"

Seeing how the keyboard was still out, Kitty!Akito darts over to it and types out a quick 'Thank you' before darting back over to where his sister was snoozing away peacefully in the nest of warm blankets and pillows.

And if it wasn't for his kitten ears, Kitty!Akito would've almost certainly missed the quiet, "You're welcome." from KK...

[kittypets-read-the-series]

B1 C2: RUSTY GETS AMBUSHED

It was very dark.

“What was dark?”

“Filou! Be quiet!”

“Alright, alright, Luna, keep your fur on!”

Rusty could sense something was near.

“It’s Rusty!” Tommy meowed.

“I think this might be from his point of view.” Princess said.

… This place was unfamiliar, but the strange scents drew him onward, deeper into the shadows.

Nutmeg shook her head. “He always was the most adventures of our kits.” she whispered to Jake.  “He got it from you!” Jake just looked at her innocently.

… Suddenly a flash of gray raced past him. Rusty stopped still, listening.

Hattie squeaked.

… He was downwind of the mouse. He knew it was not aware of him.

“He always was the hunter.” Luna said.  “I’ve lost count of all the times he pounced on me!”

… The mouse dived for cover, heading toward a hole in the ground. But Rusty was already on top of it.

“WHOO!” Filou yowled.

Suddenly a noise roared nearby.

“What is it?” Cody asked, eyes wide.

… Angry, Rusty gave up the hunt. He spun around, his green eyes glaring, intent on searching out the noise that had cost him his kill.

“I hate it when that happens!” Jake muttered.  He was hunting a sparrow once and another cat, a rouge, had startled some bushes, making him lose his catch.  He had longed to teach that rogue a lesson, but the rogue looked battle-scarred and dangerous, so he cut his losses and went on his way.  Lots of cats without a housefolk thought kittypets were cowards - some were - but others knew when to argue with a wild cat and when not to.

… The forest had disappeared. He was inside a hot and airless kitchen, curled in his bed.

“Oh, it was a dream.” Oliver said.

… Rusty had been dreaming.

“Mouse dung!” Tommy meowed.

Lifting his head, he rested his chin on the side of his bed. His collar rubbed uncomfortably around his neck.

“Downside to being a kittypet.  THE DANG COLLAR!” Filou sighed.

… Rusty rolled onto his back, savoring the dream for a few more moments. He could still smell mouse. 

“That happens with me sometimes.” Livy meowed. “Part of my dream follows me back into the real world.”

From his bed he could smell the bland odor of his food. His owners always refilled his dish before they went to bed.

“They are good housefolk.” Hattie sighed.  “Very nice.”

The food felt dry and tasteless on his tongue. Rusty reluctantly swallowed one more mouthful.

“Yeah, sometimes the food isn’t that good.” Zach said, wrinkling his nose.

“But we sure do let our housefolk know!” Tyler meowed.

… He made his dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers.

“Didn’t need to know that.” Tommy muttered.

… It was a favorite spot of his, as he could see right into the neighboring gardens as well as into the dense green forest on the other side of the garden fence.

Nutmeg looked pointedly at Jake. “Just like you.” she muttered.

… He heard his owners giving him one last call from the back door. … But this time Rusty ignored his owners’ voices and turned his gaze back to the forest. The crisp smell of the woods had grown fresher after the rain.

Nutmeg turned to Jake again, but he cut her off. “I know! I know! Just like me!”

… Was something moving out there? Was something watching him?

“Oh dear.” Hattie said.

… Tensing his muscles, he crouched for a moment. Then he leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence. As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out through the still night air.

Princess purred. “He’s heading into the woods now!”

“Where are you off to, Rusty?” … A young black-and-white cat was balancing ungracefully on the fence.

“Wait...that sounds like you Smudge.” Cody said.

“Hello, Smudge,” Rusty replied.

“I knew it!”

“You’re not going to go into the woods, are you?” … “Henry said he went into the woods once.” The cat lifted his head and gestured with his nose over the rows of fences toward the garden where Henry lived.

“That old tabby never went into the woods.” Jake huffed.  He knew Henry, the furball exaggerated everything.

“That fat old tabby never went into the woods!” Rusty scoffed.

Jake blinked.

“Welp,” Filou said.  “You know what they say, like father, like son!”

“He’s hardly been beyond his own garden since his trip to the vet. All he wants to do is eat and sleep.”

“Too right!” Jake agreed

“No, really. He caught a robin there!” Smudge insisted.

“Don’t believe everything that puffball says.” Jake meowed, shaking his head.

… “Henry told me there are all sorts of dangerous animals out there. Huge wildcats who eat live rabbits for breakfast and sharpen their claws on old bones!”

Jake and Crystal started hacking in amusement. 

“I’ve met two wild cats, those rumors aren’t true!” Jake meowed.  

Crystal recalled the story of how she had saved a wild cat's life from a fox.

… Suddenly the movement of a tiny creature caught his eye. He watched it scuttle under some brambles. Instinct made him drop into a low crouch.

“It’s real this time!” Luna perked up.

… Excitement coursed through him, making his heart pound. This was even better than his dreams!

“Get it! Get it!” Filou and Tommy chanted.

… Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump. His bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush. Rusty stood very still and looked around.

The kittypets held their breath.

He could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns up ahead. He smelled a strong, strange scent, definitely a meat-eater, but neither cat nor dog.

“Oh no.” Jake muttered. “Fox.”

Distracted, Rusty forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously. He wanted a better look.

“No…” Jake meowed. “Stay away from the fox!”

… he kept his eyes fixed on the strange red fur up ahead, and continued to creep onward. It was only when the faint rustling behind him became a loud and fast-approaching leaf-crackle that Rusty realized he was in danger.

Nutmeg gasped, worried for her youngest.

The creature hit him like an explosion and Rusty was thrown sideways into a clump of nettles. Twisting and yowling, he tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to his back. It was gripping him with incredibly sharp claws.

Princess and Luna’s eyes were wide.

… He writhed and squirmed from whisker to tail, but he couldn’t free himself. For a second he felt helpless; then he froze. Thinking fast, he flipped over onto his back.

“Dangerous, but might just work…” Jake whispered.

He knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose his soft belly, but it was his only chance. He was lucky—the ploy seemed to work. He heard a “hhuuffff” beneath him as the breath was knocked out of his attacker.

“That’s my kit!” Jake yowled proudly.

… Rusty managed to wriggle free. Without looking back he sprinted toward his home.

“Run, run, run, run…” many whispered.

… Even though the pain from his scratches stung beneath his fur, Rusty decided he would rather turn and fight than let himself be jumped on again.

Jake nodded in agreement.  He would rather do that too.

It was another kitten, with a thick coat of shaggy gray fur, strong legs, and a broad face. … Taken by surprise by Rusty’s turnabout, it fell back into a dazed heap. The impact knocked the breath out of Rusty, and he staggered.

Nami and Livy listened with wide eyes as their uncle took on this scary-sounding wild cat.  Their mother had told them about him and their brother Cloudtail’s exploits in the forest.  They were excited to hear about them first pawed.

He quickly found his footing and arched his back, puffing out his orange fur, ready to spring onto the other kitten. But his attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forepaw, all signs of aggression gone.

“What….?” Tommy tilted his head in confusion.

… “Hi there, kittypet!” meowed the gray tom cheerily. “You put up quite a fight for a tame kitty!”

“Not all of us are tame.” Jake said mysteriously. Nutmeg whacked him with her paw.

“I tamed you.  So you aren’t on that list.” 

Jake gave her an offended look as Tommy and Filou gagged at their parents.

Rusty remained on tiptoe for a second, wondering whether to attack anyway. Then he remembered the strength he had felt in this kitten’s paws when he had pinned him to the ground.

“Good.” Jake nodded.  “Know when to attack, and when not to.”

… “What’s a kittypet like you doing out in the woods? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” asked Graypaw.

“Uhh...yes.” Cody said.

“If you’re the most dangerous thing the woods has to offer, then I think I can handle it,” Rusty bluffed. … “Oh, I’m far from the most dangerous. If I were even half a warrior, I’d have given an intruder like you some real wounds to think about.”

Nutmeg stiffed at the thought.

Rusty felt a thrill of fear at these ominous words. … “You must have heard of the four warrior Clans that hunt around here!

“Wait, wait, wait.” Oliver said. “Time out. So, Rusty was supposed to know about these ‘Clans’, but this Graypaw is surprised that Rusty doesn’t really know about the dangers? Am I the only one seeing this?”

… The other Clans are always trying to steal prey from our territory, especially ShadowClan. They’re so fierce they would have ripped you to shreds, no questions asked.”

Nutmeg dug her claws into the earth at the thought. She knew from Jake that WindClan was rather friendly with outsiders, but this ShadowClan…she shivered. They sounded nasty.

… “They come to take prey that is rightfully ours. … Kits have to be six moons old before they even begin training. Tonight is my first night out as an apprentice.”

“Hmm.” Nami said.  “They have an organized system.”

“Why don’t you find yourself an owner with a nice cozy house instead? … “No way! I can’t think of anything worse than being a kittypet!

“How about being dead?” Nutmeg said, her eyes narrowed.  “Starving? Incredibly sick?  Losing the ones you love?  There are many things that are worse than being a kittypet.”

They’re nothing but Twoleg toys!

Luna huffed. “No we are not!”

Eating stuff that doesn’t look like food, making dirt in a box of gravel, sticking their noses outside only when the Twolegs allow them?

“I could go outside whenever I wanted.” Ruby whispered to Socks.  He nodded in agreement.

… “I guess you’ll never understand.” … “You weren’t born wild. It makes a big difference.

“No it does not.” Jake hissed, eyes narrowed into slits.

You need to be born with warrior blood in your veins, or the feel of the wind in your whiskers. … “That’s not true!” he [Rusty] mewed indignantly.

“Too right!” Jake muttered.

… “I smell cats from my Clan,” … “Run!” … He was too late.

“Oh no!” Livy squeaked.

Rusty turned to see a large gray she-cat strolling majestically out from the undergrowth. … “Bluestar!” Beside Rusty, Graypaw crouched down and narrowed his eyes.

“Bluestar? Wasn’t that one of the starry cats who showed up before?” Socks said.

He crouched even lower when a second cat—a handsome, golden tabby—followed the gray cat into the clearing. … Lionheart, I’m sorry.” … Rusty copied Graypaw and crouched low to the forest floor, his ears twitching nervously.

Nutmeg was stiff with tension.

“Who is this?” … Rusty flinched as she turned her gaze on him. … [Graypaw] just a Twoleg pet from beyond our territories.”

“Excuse me?” Nami said, offended.

Just a Twoleg pet! The words inflamed Rusty, but he held his tongue.

“Looks like he got mother’s brains!” Filou said.

Jake looked offended.

Nutmeg’s eyes glittered with mirth.

The warning look in Bluestar’s stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he looked away. … Bluestar was still staring at Rusty. “You fight well for a Twoleg pet,”

“Again with the pet?” Tommy muttered.

… “Sit up now, both of you!” … I’ve not seen a kittypet do that before.” Rusty managed to nod his thanks, taken aback by such unexpected praise.

Jake puffed up at hearing a Clan leader praising his son.

Her next words surprised him even more. … We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest. … Bluestar stared at Rusty thoughtfully.

“Wonder what she’s thinking.” Crystal muttered.

“You do seem to have a natural hunting ability. … His [Lionheart] deep meow was respectful but insistent. … Send him home to his Twolegs!”

“Why?” Hattie asked, confused. He had just been hunting a mouse.  What was the big deal?

“Send me home?” … “But I’ve only come here to hunt for a mouse or two. I’m sure there’s enough to go around.”

Jake winced.  He knew from Talltail and Pinestar that was not true.

Bluestar had turned her head to acknowledge Lionheart’s words. Now her gaze snapped back to Rusty. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger.

Smudge squeaked.

“There’s never enough to go around,” she spat. “If you didn’t live such a soft, overfed life, you would know that!”

Nutmeg huffed. “It’s not his fault he was born a housecat!  He’s not to blame for not knowing something at such a young age!”

Rusty was confused by Bluestar’s sudden rage, but one glance at the horrified look on Graypaw’s face was enough to tell him he had spoken too freely. … These were not cozy fireside cats he was dealing with—they were mean, hungry cats who were probably going to finish what Graypaw had started.

“Continue, continue!” Nutmeg yowled.

[spookyspaghettisundae]

The Shadow Is Wearing a Crown

Special Agent Parker sipped from her glass of chocolate milk. Her imagination rendered the flavor sweet, but what hit her tongue tasted rancid and fuzzy. Her face twisted with disgust, and she spit it out into the sink.

Pouring the rest down the drain, it slopped out of the cup as a chunky, goopy mass.

The kitchen door squeaked as it opened behind her. Special Agent Wells entered. He tilted his head with a puzzled look on his face. Hooked his thumbs into his suit pants pockets.

“The butterflies of the moonlit fields could have shown you that the drowning swans in the pond were not to be trusted. The chestnut trees that guarded the frigid gardens had not been disturbed for a dance of the shadowed moths or two, give or take.”

Parker placed the cup in the sink and frowned.

“What are you talking about? None of what you said made any sense.”

Wells chortled. He thrust out his index and middle finger as if he was rearing to give her a two-finger salute. Instead, he painted a crescent moon into the air with this fingertips.

With a meow, a black cat followed Wells into the kitchen. The cat hopped up onto the kitchen counter, strolling past an assortment of dirty dishes cluttering its surface, until it leisurely sat down near Parker.

“You know this isn’t real, Qip,” spoke the cat, with the sonorous clarity of a man’s voice and a strange, playful melody to it.

Parker squinted at the cat. “How do you know that nickname, cat?”

“I have a name, too, lady. And I’m more surprised you ain’t surprised I can speak.”

His accent sounded like it came from Brooklyn.

Wells spoke behind them, “I only wavered because I saw the glowing butterfly that was like you, but it was not of the seventeenth world. I knew the truth when I found you in the crushing depths, and we painted the sky with the chaos of its essence.”

Parker shook her head at Wells, unable to decipher his gibberish.

She turned to the cat and asked, “With whatever incomprehensible things Wells is speaking, it seems perfectly normal for a talking cat to exist. And I’m sorry. I am Special Agent Quinn Isabelle Parker, though you seem to know that already. What is your name?”

“I’m Ozzy. And you sure ain’t Daniel, I can say that much for certain,” spoke the cat. His tiny mouth opened and closed, perfectly in sync with each syllable.

Parker squinted, studying the cat, and looking for the trick used to make him speak.

“Yo’ mama never teach you it’s impolite to stare like that, Qip?” Ozzy quipped.

“This is truly fascinating. And I can’t say I know who you are referring to with Daniel. The degree of tomfoolery at foot here is impressive. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are, in fact, a talking cat,” Parker said.

Wells continued with his gibberish, “A song from the unseen realms, beware. The you who enters the halls of cardboard and newspapers to cross into the locus of trees and glass—and the you who emerges from the door of broken promises—you are not the same soul. The shift is gentle, but like all others, you too will leave this house… transformed.”

Parker glared at her colleague.

Ozzy replied to Wells, “Look, man, we do not understand a single word you’re sayin’. Start making sense or shut up and open me a can o’ tuna, capisce?”

“Thank you,” Parker said, gesturing with a sigh to Ozzy. “I’m glad it’s not only me who is struggling to make sense of whatever Special Agent Wells is saying here.”

Ozzy meowed and then said, “Well, Qip, you do know, though, that this isn’t real, right?”

“So, it is a dream.”

“Naw, Qip. A dream would be safe. This is your being merging with another space entirely. You are currently connected by two silver threads. One is connected to you—the meat-bag you as you know it—and one to a watcher in the walls. They are both pulling in two directions, get it? Get a grip, or it will fracture your mind and turn you into a drooling vegetable.”

“I think I understand what you are saying, though I cannot fathom how I got here or how I can leave. Who or what is the watcher in the walls?”

“Look, lady, it ain’t ‘the’ watcher, just one o’ many. And I got no clue how you can leave here. This is my space, not yours. I can just come and go like I want. I got no clue how you and funny many over there even got here.” Ozzy wriggled his whiskers.

“Hm. Puzzling.”

“Anyway, you hear what I been sayin’? You’re gonna turn into a coma patient if you don’t untether pronto.”

“How do you—”

Wells spoke more. “The rule of the first and the last is not what it appears to be. A blinding light lurks, waiting to seize the sphere. Be warned, I whisper, the ocean’s echoes and the scorpions bring balance. The wheel of destiny turns.” His brow furrowed, his mien turning upset, as he waved his hands around in a furious fashion.

Frustrated—as if he could tell he was not getting through to Parker.

She threw her hands up and shook her head.

“Wake up, Qip,” said Ozzy. “Your brain’s probably turnin’ into mushy goo as we speak. And believe you me, you don’t want that sludge oozing outta your nose or ears. It would straight up ruin your fancy suit.”

“Wake up? How? If isn’t really a dream, how am I supposed to snap out of it?”

“Well,” Ozzy said. The cat got up and started pacing up and down the counter. “I may have an idea.”

“Please explain. I have become very open-minded to exploring the esoteric and occult.”

“There’s no time for in-depth explanations right now,” mused the cat. “My pad here is startin’ to look bad, and I think it’s 'cause you guys are foulin’ it up.”

Wells babbled, “It is wise to allow the accountant to believe that we are cut from the same shadows. He is a force to be reckoned with, and if he senses our intentions too soon, the consequences will be dire. The key is to remain unseen, always.”

Parker pinched the skin between her left thumb and index finger, flinching immediately from the pain of digging her fingernails into her flesh. It left a thin crimson mark.

“Well, that didn’t work, Ozzy. How am I supposed to wake up from this? Any snappy ideas?”

Ozzy meowed. “Yeah. Get a load of this.”

The cat leapt at Parker and bit her arm.

She jolted upright, or as upright as she could jolt, banging her head against a hard surface. She cried out, but a bandana or similar length of cloth had been tied over her mouth to gag her. She wrestled and thrashed and struggled against whatever bonds kept her hands bound behind her back—duct tape, she assumed from the sticky residue on her skin, tearing out any hairs, and the unyielding strength of it as the material twisted around her wrists.

Objects poked her ribs and thighs, left and right, as she failed to find any space to stretch her legs, tied at the ankles as she was, and it took her several moments to realize that she was bound inside the trunk of a car, driving at high speed.

Down a highway?

Parker refused to scream, steadying her breathing.

Breathe. Focus. Release.

Fighting any sense of panic before it could take overhand, she kept her cool. She thought back to her training.

Breathe. Focus. Release.

Her head throbbed. The back of it stung. She must have been hit on her head there.

How? The memories blurred. It all only came back to her slowly. Flashes, fragments. Future, past, melting together.

Getting on a plane. Washing her hands in the claustrophobic airplane toilet. Leaving the FBI offices in Virginia. Driving off with Wells into the sunset, headed for Chicago. Seeing herself in a mirror, and seeing herself reflected in a different self, gazing at her with a strange wisdom in her eyes, a wisdom she could not attain this life, as they stared at each other from across a void of space and time.

Right. The Chicago case. Murders. That house.

The dead FBI agents.

The car slowed, pulling over. The engine cut out. Doors slammed; the vehicle rocked. Two pairs of footsteps crunched in gravel outside.

How had she ended up here? The memories returned with a painful slowness. Or was there nothing to be remembered yet?

The world turned bright, causing Parker to squint and groan and squirm in her bondage. Two silhouettes crystallized on the edge of her vision, peering into the open trunk where she lay.

Both clad in suits, befitting of a pair of special agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. One of them: a black man with a well-groomed mustache and weary air about him.

Special Agent Wells.

The other: a white woman with a short crop of red hair framing a freckled face. The same face she always saw in the mirror.

Herself. Special Agent Parker.

Both calm as a still pond, they looked at her—the Special Agent Parker trapped inside the trunk.

She tried to ask them to cut her loose, but the gag muffled all words into indecipherable gibberish.

Wells shook his head, and the Parker standing outside shrugged. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words, Ozzy’s meow escaped her throat.

Just as the Parker in the trunk started thrashing around and sitting up to squirm her way out, the other Parker slammed the trunk’s lid shut, knocking her back into a world of darkness.

She was no longer tied up, nor confined to the cramped quarters of a car’s trunk. Parker sat in a chair in a dingy room with dirty windows and dirtier walls. Small heaps of trash—crumpled soda cans, empty beer bottles, fast food wrappers—dotted every corner, and a woman with blue-dyed hair and tattoos all over her skin sat across the table from her.

The blue-haired young woman snorted a line of cocaine through a rolled-up dollar bill and then whipped her head back, hollering with glee.

“This is the easiest way in and out,” she told Parker, pointing to another line of coke on the table.

“Where? What are you talking about?” asked Parker.

“This isn’t really a dream, y'know? You just, like, suddenly appeared here.” She paused, rolling her jaw. She sounded like she was from the west coast, where Parker had just flown from. “I’m Sunny, by the way, sorry. Forgot to introduce myself. And you are the pink sky of a rising sun, right?”

Sunny started giggling, breaking out into a clipped cackle.

Parker shrugged and wanted to meow like Ozzy. Instead, she spoke, “Can you please explain all of that? I think I am… I think these may be something like visions, or astral travel, or both. Dream-like as it all may be, I need to make sense of this. It feels very important.”

Sunny’s cackling resumed, shrill and revolving.

Parker sighed. “Fine, I’ll do a line, maybe that’ll get me out—”

She reached out to take the rolled-up dollar bill from Sunny, but she froze mid motion.

Her right hand was petrified. Instead of skin, it was made of stone. Smooth in some spots, cracked in others. Each crease, line, scar, and even her fingerprints—all sculpted perfectly onto the surface. She twisted and turned her wrist to examine the wondrous transformation of her hand, more confounded than horrified by it.

Parker compared her fleshy left counterpart, twisting it and splaying her fingers to ensure only one of her hands was truly petrified.

“You know, Sunny, this is fine. It could have been worse, but I can imagine some uses to having a stone hand,” Parker said with an eerie calm.

Sunny clicked her tongue, repetitively shaking her head.

“Your thoughts are merging with theirs,” Sunny said. “The agents.”

“Agents? Of what agency?”

Sunny cackled. “Oh, they are not from any agency you know. They are from…” Her face and eyes went blank. Sunny had spaced out entirely. She snapped out of the trance. “Your thoughts are merging with theirs. You know, just like your face.”

Parker abruptly stopped studying her hands.

“What about my face?” Parker asked, with growing alarm.

Sunny’s face blanched, her visage twisting into a nervous, frightened grin. “Oh, uh… you didn’t know? Uh… never mind. Maybe, uh, stay away from mirrors?”

The kitchen door squeaked behind Parker.

In walked three figures, all of them wearing suits like special agents, all their faces blank. No features, nothing, just smooth skin where facial details should have been—no eyes, noses, mouths; not even facial hair. Not even the shapes of their heads looked familiar.

Parker jolted up into standing, knocking over her chair, raising her stone hand in defense and ready to fight.

One of the three suited figures carried a wasps’ nest under their arm, a low hum or chorus of buzzing emitting from its bowels. A first one of the insects crawled out of a hole, buzzing its wings without taking off.

Its stinger looked menacing.

And in the thousands of reflections of herself that Parker saw mirrored in its compound eyes, one of her reflections was not like the other.

A shadow, wearing a crown. A face devoured by the abyss itself. Something reaching out from a sea of living darkness, crossing a void that should never be crossed. A hand made of obsidian and black marble, sharp and smooth and dangerous. Grasping as it reached for her, reached into her, seeking power. The walls melted like wax of a candle, streaks of molten wax trickling down.

The world rumbled. Quaked.

Soft jazz music droned away in the distance.

Ding.

Slowly, she came to her senses.

A man in the seat next to her gestured to the glowing sign above. A pictogram of two hands fastening their seat belt.

Other people in the plane stirred.

The smooth jazz playing back in her headphones temporarily lowered in volume, and a calm and collected voice eclipsed it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I am pleased to announce that we are now beginning our descent into Richmond International Airport. Please ensure that your seat belts are fastened, and all electronic devices are turned off as we prepare for landing. We hope you have enjoyed your flight, and we look forward to welcoming you to Virginia. Thank you for choosing to fly with us today.”

Parker turned to the stranger sitting next to her—a middle-aged man whose facial wrinkles hinted at a life rife with experience. His piercing eyes glistened with a deep-rooted sorrow that would have taken years to unravel in conversation.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the man. Clearing her throat as she blinked away the sleep, and the strange dream fading. Then adding, “It is uncanny to me how familiar you look. Have we met before?”

A strange smile crept across his face. He shook his head.

It was easier to lie without words. She could not tell, satisfied with his response. Indeed, she had never seen him before.

But she would see him again after exiting the plane. And he had met her before in ways she could not yet comprehend.

Parker fastened her seat belt.

She sighed in oblivious relief.

[r3d-starss]

sum fnaf souls hcs lol

Gabriel is a pansexual 80spitegender humanthing verinix ghostthing genderless boygirl inklingboy angelgender girlprince octolingboy soul with OCD who uses he / they / rad / radical / human / thing / ghost / soul / inkling / octoling / angel / prince pronouns who likes splatoon and if you are close to him you can use she / her. He is a bearkin and octopuskin and they are 12 years old. They're dating Jeremy.

Jeremy is a gay humanthing boyprincess sylveonic gothcattic bfthing wizcatgender bunnypet nicomfian gaycrimequoteic pawgender sensiboy genderfunny starfuzzblanketic catgender bungender catbungender bunhoarder! His bungender hoard's are: pitterbunsoundic bunskeletin spacebungender bunnygender confettibungender angelbungender pasclownbunplushic lopunnic vampbungender angelibunlovecorian digibunnix bunballdollic cutebunhattic cirbunnic bunnynipgender birthdaybungender bunpacigender squeakgender babybungender clownbungender sleepyplushbungender pastelplushbuncomfic blueberrybungender easterbunnic bunnyboygender blueberrymuffinbunic genderfluid soul with autism, aspergers, ADHD, DPDR and dyslexia. He is also an age regressed slider, 2-6 years old, but prince's real age is 12. They also hoard pronouns and it's pronoun hoard is he / they / it / nonhuman / dehuman / prince / princess / sylveon / goth / meow / mew / bf / boyfriend / wiz / witch / cat / kitty / bunny / pet / pat / comfy / gay / crime / paw / paws / sensi / sensitive / funny / funni / star / fuzz / fuzzy / blanket / kit / bun / catbun / pitter / patter / skeletin / skeleton / space / rabbit / confetti / angel / digi / digital / ball / doll / cute / hat / circus / bunnynip / nip / birthday / bday / paci / pacifier / pastel / plush / plushie / stuffie / clown / lopunny / blueberry / squeak / baby / sleep / sleepy / nap / vamp / love / luv / lovecore / easter / bunnyboy / boy / muffin. If you are close to princess you can use she / gf / girlfriend pronouns. Sylveon likes pokemon. Goth is a catkin and bunnykin. Meow is dating Gabriel. Mew's fictional kinnie's are sylveon and lopunny.

Susie is a omni fem lean bloomsick catpawic andollitic catskeletin catpwupic fantasium chickgender yellowpinkgender pawgender cozyglowgender gloriosagender hellokittaidic iridaplushic intuchoric ionogender thingbitch anroboalicat compuhoardic and her computergender hoard's are: trapped_in_a_computer.gender monospaceyn computergender descranean popupgender pcordo botgender alteregogen DOSgender glitchdataic cybercatgender robotthing computercatic gender.ZIP and it's pronouns are: she / it / bloom / sick / cat / paw / doll / lace / skeletin / skeleton / pup / puppy / dog / fantastic / chick / yellow / pink / pinkie / paws / cozy / glow / glorious / gloriosa / evil / villain / hi / hello / kit / kitty / bandaid / rainbow / plush / plushie / iono / thing / bitch / angel / robot / alien / kitten / trapped / font / computer / pop / popup / bot / alterego / DOS / glitch / data / cyber / robot! Sometime's bloom plays pokemon with Jeremy, that's why sick loves Iono. Cat is also an Iono kinnie. Paw also likes alot of computer games. Doll's favorite computer game is roblox. Lace also has alot of plushies, skeleton's favorite one is the Chica one since the plush is basically pup. Puppy's favorite show is MLP and sometimes dog even watches it with Jeremy. Fantastic and Jeremy are BFF's. Chick is 8 years old.

Fritz is an aromantic pansexual vilegender hanahakithing hospihaunt paranolovic cyberworldean glambotgender foxhoarder and his fox gender's are: foxgender foxthing batearfoxthing foxplushgender silfoxen ghostfoxic foxcute winterfoxic vulpanesic foxsoliangender foxiden albexidenic vulpyrenoxic foxboy ashfoxcharic magicfoxic analogfoxgender and it's pronouns are: he / it / vile / hanahaki / thing / haunt / paranoia / cyber / cyberworld / glam / glammer / glambot / fox / bat / batearfox / plush / silver / ghost / cute / winter / ash / magic / magicfox / analog. Vile loves undertale and deltarune and hanahaki is a mettaton and spamton kinnie. Thing also sometimes plays roblox with Susie. Haunt is 11 years old.

(i'll make one for cass soon)

[slepyicarus]

Mc Monday

Yeah im working on catching up lol. It takes me a bit to write/draw often lol

As always the Mc!Monday challenge is by the kind and amazing @obeythedemons if u like my post to these check out Lances! They are just *chefs kiss*

Prompt: MC accidentally touches a book in Satan’s room that casts an illusion over them both that shows MC’s greatest dreams coming true. What are they, how does MC react, can MC get out?

Tags: slight Anger flare up, described panic attack, past child emotional/ verbal abuse, past child negelect, transphobia, reference to suicide

Humming along to the music Icarus calmly played on his DDD while waiting for the cookies frosting to set when the quite crystal like notification noise interrupted the music. Icarus startled, losing the level. Scroffing he opened his messager. His angered calmed when he saw Satan had texted him about their bi-daily reading session.

Now equipped with a tray full of tea and cookies Icarus knocked on the wrathful demon's door. The door opened softly revealing the as usually messy of book towers library that Satan calls his room. Said demon sat on his bed with Lavendel, which most-likely walzed right to Satans room for treats and pets from Icarus' room, who purred until she saw his owner. Now she meowed softly earning a chuckle from her current bed and her owner. "Hello you two. How are the cuddles today?", Icarus laughed slightly, setting the tray down on the ony free space of Satan's table. Satan smiled right back at the other "Impeccable as usual. You brought cookies too?" Looking for the book he read and left on the table last time Icarus hummed as responds before explaining "Levi has a gaming event coming up so i thought to show my support i would make him some Ruri-chan themed cookies. Im still working on my icing skills but they taste really good. Finally there it is." "Wait Icarus, thats not-", the avatar tried to warn his friend but it was too late.

Icarus squeaks out of surprise and covers his head while a book tower he didn't see was balancing against his book tipped over, spilling countless books onto the floor.. A few books fell on the halfdemon before falling onto the floor in the end. As soon as the rain of books stopped Satan rushed over to the other demon looking him over for any wounds. "Are you ok?? Does it hurt anywhere?" Taking the book that landed on his head off Icarus shook his head. "I'm ok." Satan took the book Icarus held and paled a bit. "Eh Icarus, don't panic but you touched a cursed book.." "I did what now?", Icarus shrieked as he paled himself looking up at the blond, "What does it do" "It shows your biggest deepest dream to the ones that touched it." "oh no-"

"Icarus? Baby is that you?", a sweet voice could be heard from the door of the room, making both demons turn to the door where a short chubby brunette woman with a soft purple and white dress stood having the same face and green eyes as the half demon. Icarus took a step back holding his own hand close to his chest, his breathing growing quicker and more shallow. He could feel the cold sweat forming on his neck and back. Nervously he swished his split tail from side to side. Starting to shake his head he said shaken "N-No, your not real. I know yo-your just a hallucination. Just part of the curse." Placing an arm around the shaking half demon Satan pulled him closer to help him with his fear. "But baby its me. Really.", the woman exclaimed, walking to the two demons, "Look at you. My sweet baby having made it so far to even go to an academy! I'm so proud of you.." Icarus breath hitched as soon as he felt her hand petting his head right in between where his horns have manifested from his panic. He shifted into his demon form in his panic without noticing it making his though grow louder with all hhis memories. Everything back up, making his eyes water. "Oh Icarus..dont cry, my son..everything will be alright now..Mama's here..", the woman cooed cupping his cheek and start petting it with her thumb. Slowly tears began to roll down his reddened cheeks which she brushed aside while whispering small words of comfort before dissappearing just as suddenly as she appeared. His knees finally gave out and he fell to his knees, small sobs escaping the usually alsways smiling demon. Two arms circled him and slowly rearranged him so that he lend againgst the chest of the book smart demon. Finally Icarus could noticed and feel Satans presence again. He gripped into the sweater vest as if his life depended on it and let the sobs flow out of him, letting them carry all of his hurting toughts and heart break with them. Satan held him thtough it, petting his now open wild lilac hair and whispering words of comfort and encouragement.

It took a while for Icarus to calm down enough to only tired sniffes. All his trauma resurfacing made him exhausted and wanting nothing but continued to be held. "Do you feel better now, Ru?", Satan asked softly to which the other nodded lightly against his chest, having spend most of his energy while crying. "Could we lay down on your bed for a bit, Tantan..? I just need to be held a bit more and the floor is uncomfortable..", the lilanette almost whispered. "Of course", Satan answered before picking up the smaller into his arms and walking over to his bed. Carefully he laid down with the tired exchange student which cuddled up closer to him. After a few minutes of silence while Icarus got his sniffles under control satan couldnt contain his curiosity in check and questioned quietly "That was your mother correctly? Why was she telling you that she is proud of you your biggest wish..?" Back in his casual clothes the smaller wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie "Because she abandoned me in a group home and after i came back to her she only complained about everything that was connected to me. She always compaired me to my older siblings and how amazing they are doing while i just waste my life away. She neglected me and my mental health until i tried to end myself..", Icarus explained sniffing again and wiping a new tear away. "And..And when I told her that I'm trans she told me its just penis envy and I'm just confused because of the media. She never accepted me as Icarus.." Another quiet sob escaped Icarus. Satan hugged him tighter. "Im sorry that she did that and thank you for telling me, Icarus..", Satan spoke continuing to hold the other as long as he needed silently boiling on the inside.

She should hope that she never crosses mine or my brothers path..otherwise she will see how much pain Icarus had too feel thanks to her own body...

[briamichellewrites]

39

Mike and Jason were not getting along. It was nothing major. Just them being brothers. Jason didn’t like him intruding into his personal life while Mike didn’t care for him hooking up with random men. He didn’t say anything about him hooking up with a guy at the club. It was on his face that something happened. They got into an argument, while Bria and Joe went to ask for more towels. It was cut short when they came back with news that the towels were being washed.

They would have to check back later. That was fine. They could ask about them later. They all wanted to go shopping, so they all got ready to go. She pointed at the brothers. No fighting on vacation. They both agreed to that. Their conversation would have to wait until they got home. It would give them both time to think, instead of acting on emotions.

The Dubai Mall was not just a mall. It had so much more, including an ice skating rink. They grabbed a taxi that took them to the mall. It was huge and it had more than just shopping and food! It also had an ice skating rink. There was a map showing all of the twelve thousand plus stores and restaurants, including where they were located. It was written in Arabic, so they couldn’t translate it. They decided to just walk around and see what they could find.

Jason jokingly asked her if she was going to fill the plane with her purchases. No. He laughed. The boys had fun looking at clothes, shoes, and accessories for men. It was a lot more than what they had in America. It was way too expensive, though. Oh, well. It was still fun to look at and try on. They took pictures of each other.

Bria found one of her favorite stores. Kate Spade. Why was it her favorite? She loved the colorful designs. It was also less expensive than other luxury brands. They had to agree it was very colorful, though they couldn’t tell one handbag from another. She found the one she had her eye on. It was a beautiful purple color. She looked at the price tag. It was 910.77 AED. They calculated the difference in American money. It was about $248.

That was cheap. How the hell was that cheap?

“A handbag like this at the more expensive brands costs over a thousand dollars, especially since it’s leather and big.”

“Bria, you know that means nothing to us”, Joe said.

“A Ferrari costs a hundred thousand dollars. A Toyota costs a thousand dollars. This is a Toyota.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

That made it simple to understand. They were guys, so they knew nothing about handbags.

Meow. Woody was high above the dogs. Haha, you can’t get me! He climbed up the stairs to the perch above the door. Buddy and Missy looked up at him. How did you get up there? Buddy tried climbing up, but his legs were too short. That damn cat! Missy told him not to bother. He grumbled as he went back to the toys.

He was playing with a stuffed squirrel. It squeaked when he bit down into its stomach. He pretended it was a real squirrel that he had caught. Maybe someday he would catch one. They were always too fast. It was as if they were taunting him as they looked down at him from the trees. Haha! You can’t catch me, dog! He growled. Bark! Bark! Since they were indoors, he would have to make do with the toys. At least they gave him something to chew on.

They went out earlier to use the bathroom and run around. That was always a lot of fun! He loved running around! His little legs had to move. The yard had high fencing to keep coyotes and other predators out. The cat didn’t get to go outside. He was happy he was a dog. When they came back in, he got some water because running around made him thirsty. Yum! Yum!

Now the damn cat was taunting him. Their human should get more dogs for them to play with. Bark! Bark! Missy was barking at the humans walking by. Hi, humans! Her tail wagged because she wanted to say hi to them. She pawed at the door. One of them stopped and said hello to her through the glass. He opened the door and came over to them. Hi, human! Hi, human! Woody made his presence known by pawing at his head. He looked up at him with a smile.

“What are you doing up there? Are you hanging out?”

Yes, I am. He scratched his arm. When he left, he used his paw to clean his face.

The Burj Khalifa, or the world’s tallest skyscraper. They took the elevator up to the top. It was 2,716.5 feet tall. When they looked out the windows, they could see for miles! They were surrounded by desert on all sides. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. They all took pictures of the view and of each other. When they got home, they would have to get their pictures developed. Then they could have the memories with them forever.

When they got back down, she received a phone call from Brad asking if she was in town. No, she was in Dubai.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Who went with you?”

“Mike, Jason, and Joe. We’re staying for a week and a half. What’s going on?”

“I wanted to tell you this in person but since I’m talking to you now, Rob and I broke up.”

“Oh no. I’m sorry. Do you need a place to stay? I have an extra key.”

“Thank you. We’re going to remain friends. If that’s okay with you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Make yourself at home. The only thing you will need is groceries.”

She let him know where her spare key was hidden. Where were her pets? She boarded them. Okay. He would text her when he got inside. The boys wanted to know what happened. Brad was staying at her place because he and Rob broke up. They were devastated to hear that. Mike had a feeling that he knew what happened. They couldn’t agree on having children or getting married.

They were best friends, so he didn’t think it had been a messy breakup. Still, breakups sucked even if they were mutual. He would text him later to see how he was doing. Since they were all hungry, they went down to the restaurants.

Brad would miss having Rob as his boyfriend. They were both adults and they would not let their breakup affect the band. It was just something they needed to work through separately. Rob assured him he would be okay. If he needed anything, he would call Phoenix. Okay. Why did they break up? They couldn’t agree on adopting children or getting married. They tried everything, including negotiating. Eventually, they had to realize they were not going to agree.

Bria’s house was quiet. It was strange because he expected to hear her dogs barking. They were being boarded while she was gone. He kind of wished he hadn’t declined to go to Dubai. Oh, well. Maybe he would get to go there someday.

He couldn’t wait to hear about the trip! As he put his bag away in the garage guest apartment, he looked around. How did he get so lucky to have a friend like Bria? He sat down at the table and thought about what he would do for dinner. As he was thinking, he got a call from Phoenix. He just heard from Rob and wanted to make sure he was okay. No, but he would be eventually. He invited him to hang out with him and Linsey. Yeah, he was on his way.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon