#she’s ignoring me and taking a bath. very cat of her.

[fractallogic]

Darktime camera is no match for cat who is bathing herself (because some hoomin came barging in and put their hoomin face and hoomin smell all over catte. YUCK.)

But nonetheless I LOVE how she found just a perfect little cat-shaped crater to sleep in while my covers were all disarrayed. Hard to tell from the pic but the way everything fell when I finally decided to rouse myself this morning resulted in a little cat-ball-sized spot. And she FOUND it and she decided to sleep in the cat spot instead of in her usual spot right in front of my pillow. God I love this cat.

[scarletlizzard]

Part 4: Cat and Mouse

Sessions Series

Parings: dark Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, mentions of gun/knife, choking, strap on usage (R receiving), major manipulation, toxic, stalker

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reading my first series! It's been so fun to write. If you have any questions, let me know! I'm thinking of writing an epilogue for it if yall are interested? To show where they are now. Let me know what y'all think 🩷

Early Spring 2016

Wanda tilts her head to the side, a smile on her face as she looks at the painting on the wall.

It's a Renaissance-style painting. A woman draped in elegant attire is depicted running gracefully across a grandiose landscape. Her flowing garments billow behind her as she glances over her shoulder with a mix of fear and excitement in her wide eyes.

Behind her, a single shadow looms ominously, its form elongated and exaggerated. The scene is bathed in soft, golden light, casting long shadows and creating a sense of darkness.

The woman's delicate features and intricate clothing are painted with meticulous detail, while the surrounding scenery showcases the artist's mastery of perspective and depth. The painting seems to capture the eternal struggle between light and darkness.

Wanda felt drawn to it. Something about it was pulling her in. This was her fourth time coming to see it, the gallery being just down the block from her office.

"Haunting, isn't it?" A voice, possibly the most alluring voice she had ever heard, speaks from next to her.

"It's breathtaking," Wanda mutters. Her eyes focus on the woman in the painting, then to the dark shadow behind her.

"The shadow, it never stops chasing her. She's constantly looking back over her shoulder, wondering.." The voice speaks again.

"Wondering what?" Wanda asks.

"Wondering when she'll be caught. It's all a game, see?" A finger points to the small plaque underneath the painting. The title of it read:

Cat and Mouse

***

Current Winter 2018

You felt a sense of deja vu as you ran throughout the house. A sense of unexpected excitement flows through you as your feet carry you to the front door - locked.

As you run down the hallway, your breathing picks up. You hear Wandas loud steps stalking behind you at an even pace. The back door - locked.

Down another hall, door after door - locked.

Running up the stairs you take in Wandas words,

"When I find you, I will fuck you."

You couldn't ignore the ache between your legs or the partial truth to her reasoning.

Had you gone and sought out for a stalker? No, but once your shadow appeared, your life became more interesting. You felt a spark inside of you, and you felt it last night, too.

You find an open door and shut it behind you, quickly locking it. With your back against the hard wood, you take a second to catch your breath. When you hear footsteps from the end of the hall, you also hear Wandas voice.

"Don't forget what I said, darling.." A door opens and closes, the footsteps draw nearer.

A small smile plays on your lips.

You were just as fucked up as she was.

***

Early Spring 2016

Wanda turns to the woman next to her, taking in her bewitching appearance.

"Did you paint this?" Wanda asks. You nod, smiling as you stare at your art.

"I did. I still can't believe it's here," you chuckle to yourself. She watches curiously as you tap your leg 4 times with your finger.

"It's amazing. You are truly talented.." Wanda continues to stare at you.

"Thank you, it's... it's very personal," you say with a nod, turning to the stranger. "She needs the shadow to keep pushing forward, but she'll never admit it to herself."

Before either of you can say anything else, your phone rings. "Excuse me for a moment," you say with a smile, answering the call.

"Hey mom, is everything okay?" Wanda hears you ask as you walk away from her.

She looks at the painting, then to you standing on the other side of the room. A smile slid into a crooked grin on her face, and Wanda knew it was fate.

***

Current Winter 2018

You look around the room you entered, some sort of a guest bedroom. You needed a way out.. Right?

Yes, you needed to get out.

You move around the room, looking for some type of makeshift weapon, but find no such thing. Wandas footsteps stop outside the door, you stand still near the neatly made bed.

"I know you're in there, pretty girl.." The door knob wiggles as she tries to open it, finding it locked. Wanda chuckles darkly.

"Dear Shadow," her voice carries through the door, your eyes widen. There was no way she knew the next words.

"You scare me.. You frighten me.."

"Stop it!" You scream, putting your hands over your ears.

"You scare me because I'm afraid I'll never be able to live a normal life. You frighten me because I like being chased.." Wanda quotes the note you left, the one you thought was locked away in a box underneath a pile of clothes in your closet. The door handle wiggles again.

"You make me feel something, something I know isn't right. I won't play your game.." She finishes talking. And you feel your hands shaking.

"H-How did you get that note?" You ask, fists balled up at your sides. You think back to a session where Wanda even asked you about the note. A note she apparently had, for how long you weren't sure.

"Do you really think I've only been inside of your house the once? You're smarter than that little mouse."

Your stomach dropped again, a sick feeling in your gut at the realization of her words. Wanda had been more a part of your life than you had even realized.

***

Late Summer 2016

Wanda watches from across the street, hidden in the shadows as you unpack boxes in your new home. It had been two months since your mother's funeral, 4 months since she began watching you. She dropped the cigarette she was smoking onto the ground, kicking it out with her foot. She watches as a red-headed woman helps you hang up a painting on the wall. Wanda smiles. It was almost time to begin the game.

***

Fall 2016

"Natasha? Hey!" Wanda says with a perfect smile, a hand runs through her hair.

"Oh my god, hey! We just keep running into each other." Natasha smiles warmly.

Happenstance, right ... Wanda thinks to herself as the red head reaches out her hand. She shakes Natashas' hand with a friendly grip.

"I know it's so crazy! Hey, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? Might as well if we're going to keep seeing each other around," Wanda laughs and looks around the grocery store she's never shopped at before.

"That would be so great, I know a great cafe just down the block.."

***

Winter 2016

Wanda stands outside in the shadows. The same red wine is poured into a glass as you stir a pot on the stove. She watches as you look through the window, squinting your eyes. You shake your head and gulp the rest of the wine down, not knowing you were staring right at her.

A vibrate from her pocket pulls her attention, and she looks at the text she received:

Natasha- Hey Wanda! Throwing a Christmas party next Saturday. You in?

Wanda- I'll be there.

You saw in the corner of the room a woman, standing alone. Her eyes watch over the room as she sips out of a red solo cup. She looks.. familiar, you can't quite place it. With the confidence of Rum on your tongue, you walk over to the angelic looking woman. She has a crooked smile on her face as you approach her.

"Wanda," she says after you introduce yourself. It wasn't long after that you were screaming the name for hours in your bedroom.

***

Current Winter 2018

"Now open the door, darling.." Wanda says. You hear 4 taps on the door, not from her hand. You can only assume it was by the knife you saw her unsheathe downstairs.

"And then what? What's the endgame, Wanda?" You ignore her command, standing in front of the door as you question her. She's silent for a while, so quiet you began to wonder if she had disappeared.

"Tell me you don't like the chase. Tell me you hate the way I make you feel. Tell me you want me to stop," she speaks calmly, voice unwavering. You can practically hear the smile on her face as she says, "Tell me all of those things, pretty girl. And if you say it, if you mean it.. I will leave you alone. You can go back to your regular, boring life. The same routine every day. No one chasing after you, pushing you forward. No more shadows."

You swallow hard at her words, mouth open to speak, but no words come out. Wanda will leave you alone, just tell her you're done. Back to reality. Back to...

Wanda stands outside the door, waiting for too long. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a key, unlocking the door. When she opens it all the way, she feels a cool air blowing strands of her hair back. Wanda looks around once. You were nowhere to be found. She laughs and shakes her head, walking to the open window where the breeze flows into the room. Snow floating in gently.

You couldn't say those words to her and mean it. Wanda had run into your life and caused chaos, but you wouldn't be truthful if you said it was already fucked up. With Wanda you felt alive. You felt important. You couldn't live without the dangerous chase.

With windswept hair and an exhilarated look on your face, you dash through a pristine blanket of snow, your bare feet leaving delicate imprints behind you. With each step, a mix of excitement and trepidation dances across your features, your heart racing with the thrill of the moment. The feeling of the snow sticking to your hair and the flakes underneath you heightens the sense of vulnerability and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It didn't take long for you to hear the familiar pace of Wandas stride coming from behind you.

You make for the trees.

***

Summer 2017

Wanda unscrews another bolt, wiping the sweat that dripped down to her brow. She stands from the AC unit on the side of your house, the mechanical noise coming to a halt. The birds in the trees above her chirped loudly, signaling the sun rising from a distance. She walks away, with each step assuring her imminent return.

****

Current Winter 2018

You find solace behind a tree. Gasping for air, your chest heaving with each breath. As you glance around, all you see are dark trees speckled white with snow. The treetops covered the forest that stood behind Wandas house, the sun peaking through its leaves and branches to light a golden path on the mossy ground.

A branch breaks from behind you. Your hands move to cover your mouth as you hear the steps of your shadow.

****

Summer 2017

"Such a pretty little mouse..."

Wanda sat on top of you, relishing in how easy it was to sneak in. How your body barely fought her off.

"Leave me alone!" You whimper, shaking your head to remove her hand off of your lip.

"Why? We've only just begun pretty girl," her voice makes your chest tighten. You watch with careful eyes as she reaches behind her back, pulling out a gun.

Wanda slides the barrel against your cheek, watching the fear in your eyes. The gun slides down your rapidly moving chest...

And then she sets it down on the floor beside your head.

"You can use it any time you like.. but I know you won't, little mouse," she husks down at you. "You want me here.. you like the idea of a shadow watching over you every day. The feeling I can just walk in at any time.." Wanda chuckles darkly.

Before you can say anything or wonder where her hands are going, you feel a sharp needle prick your neck. You immediately feel your eyes become heavy, your vision blurring as your shadow removes her mask. Features blurry enough that you can't make her out.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N.."

You awake the next morning on the couch with a start, gasping as you look around the room with wide eyes. The pounding in your head and the nauseous feeling in your stomach convinced you that you must have had too much to drink. It was just a bad dream.

But then your eyes catch sight, on the coffee table in front of you, a small black gun.

One that you would wave down the street looking for your shadow, screaming to no one that if they didn't come out, you would kill yourself.

One that you would lie to the police about, saying you bought it off a junkie at the docks to protect your shadow.

The shadow was yours, after all, to deal with.

****

Current Winter 2018

As you stand still like prey avoiding your predator, you hear a subtle sound of a bell ringing. A bell you knew to be followed by a blow of a deep horn as a boat leaves the dock. You wait a second... two... three...

A deep horn sounds from in the direction straight ahead of you.

Excitement sparks in your chest as you mentally prepare yourself to do what you do best, run.

You don't look back once, but you know Wanda is following. Your ears twitch as you hear her pace quicken behind you, branches and twigs snapping around the two of you as you make for the dock. The trees begin to clear, and you spot the water, a dock spanning so far you can't see the end of it, along the shore. You run towards a wooden boathouse attached to the dock that didn't look too far, hoping you could make it before Wanda emerges from the trees.

You sit low on the ground of the wood surface, and water splashes below you. A small boat floated inside, covered with a tarp, along with random tables and boxes filled with fishing supplies. As you look out the window, you see Wanda at the edge of the woods, her eyes searching the many places you could be. You duck down, not willing to risk being spotted.

***

Late Summer 2017

"I really fucked up, Wanda.." Pietro sighs into the phone.

Wanda shakes her head, watching from afar as you pace the living room.

"Shit, Pietro," she sighs loudly and walks away, around the corner. "I'll book a flight in the morning."

****

Spring 2018

"I'm so happy you're back.." Natasha smiles at her friend, sipping the coffee she held in her hands, the smiling not quite reaching her eyes.

"What's wrong, Nat?" Wanda says, resting her hand on top of Natasha.

"It's my friend, Y/N. I've told you about her," she says, Wanda nods thoughtfully. "She really needs some help, I just don't know what to do.."

Wanda reaches in her pocket and takes a business card out, sliding it across the table. "Give her this. I know a lot of people that could help her, but I also know you really care about her... I could take care of her. She would be brand new by the time we finished our Sessions."

Natasha takes the card wearily. "I don't know if I can just suggest this right now to her.. I'll think about it. Wait a little bit, and see if she gets better on her own." She smiles at Wanda gratefully.

"Of course.. maybe she'll get better," Wanda says, smiling at the thought of her spot in the shadows just outside your house.

****

Current Winter 2018

"Little mouse.." Her voice sounds from outside the window. You move quietly and quickly underneath a table that is in the corner covered by a tarp.

Wanda steps inside, the floor creaking underneath her weight, the door shutting with a snap. You listen to her footsteps as she walks around the small boathouse, rustling around in boxes. Your fingers twitch, absendmidetly tapping your leg 4 times.

Your shadow loomed over you.

It was quick, the pulling of the tarp, the exasperated scream as Wanda grabbed you from the back of your neck, pressing the blade to the front of your throat. She pulls you close to her, knowing you were going nowhere in her strong grip. The knife she held to your neck presses harder, drawing the smallest bit of blood as you attempt to scratch at her arms.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Wanda sighs into your ear, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin just below. "Looks like I've caught you, pretty girl. What now, hm?" She chuckles darkly and continues to kiss your neck.

The ache between your legs grows as she presses her hips into you, feeling the strap beneath her jeans. "I told you if you ran, I would punish you.." Wanda removes one hand, keeping the knife to your throat. You don't have time to wonder before you hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt.

Cool metal is replaced with warm leather as she ties the belt around your neck, pushing you down roughly face first onto the table in front of you. "Wanda.." You whimper out. She tugs on the end of the belt, your whimpering cut short by lack of air. With the sharp blade, she cuts the shirt that clung to your body right down the middle, exposing your back.

"I told you, Y/N. I warned you what would happen when I found you." Her free hand slides down the shorts you wore. You blush, knowing she was about to find out how wet you were for her. Wanda frees the strap from her pants, sliding the tip along your ass. Your hips move back towards her as she teases you, causing Wanda to smirk.

She knew how badly you wanted her. Wanda would show you, over time, how you belonged to her and only her. And that she, belonged to you, only you.

She slides in easily, wasting no time in fucking herself into you. The table moves with every thrust, scratching the wooden dock below. Wanda holds in one strong grip, the belt, the other one holding your hip to meet hers. The knife had dropped to the ground. You both knew it wasn't needed.

"Fuck pretty girl, I'm going to fuck you every chance I get.." She moans loudly, pulling the belt. Your hands grip onto the leather as she pounds into you mercilessly, moaning at the thought of her having her way with you whenever she felt like it. Her powerful thrust sending shocks into your body. A hard smack across your ass makes you yelp. You feel a singing sensation. Another. More stinging. And another. Surely a bruise.

"Tell me, Y/N.." Wanda grunts in between thrusts. You knew what she wanted to hear. You had no problem telling her the truth.

"I need you!" You rasp out, her grip on the belt loosens.

"That's right, baby. I won't let you forget it," she pulls the belt to pull you up, your back flush against her. Wanda kisses your cheek, surprisingly softly. "Fuck you feel so good." Wanda groans, her breathing becoming ragged. She gropes your breasts as the cut shirt slips off of your body, pinching your nipples hard between her fingers.

The pleasure was overstimulating, your body still sore and tired from the night before. You feel your legs tremble under your weight, but Wanda easily holds you up.

"Are you gonna cum, little mouse? Hm?" Wanda groans against your skin, you nod quickly. "You better beg for it then.." She chuckles, making you whine.

"Wanda.." Your word barely comes out, unable to think and physically trapped by the belt. "Baby.." You try, feeling her body tense behind you.

"Please let me cum, please I'm begging you!"

"I need you to let me cum!"

"Baby please!"

"Cum for me, pretty girl.." She finally gives in.

Before you know it, you were coming, your orgasm crashing over your body in sync with the waves crashing below. Wanda continues to fuck you through your orgasm, letting herself enjoy the sight of you falling apart in her arms.

You hear her moan loudly, thrusts slowing as she releases with you. Wanda holds onto you tightly, the grip on her belt gone as you stand breathing heavily, your hearts beating together as you catch your breath. She gives you a minute before sliding out of you carefully and sitting you on the table.

You can barely sit up, freezing, and now even more sore than you already were. You watch with half lidded eyes as Wanda does her pants up, buckling her belt. She takes the knife and puts it behind her before taking off her hoodie. You could see a red shirt on her.

The hoodie is warm and smells like her as she slides it over your head, putting your arms in the holes. She pulls up the shorts and puts the hood over your head, tucking your hair behind your ears. You close your eyes as she lifts you up bridal style, carrying you out of the wooden structure.

You remember resting your head against her neck, thinking you had never felt softer skin before. You remember the warm sun shining through the trees as she carried you through the woods to her house. You remember the sound of hot water running. The feeling of her hands scrubbing your body clean. The sound of a match flicking. The smell of Wanda as warm clothes were put on your body.

Wanda slides in front of you in the bed, holding you tightly in her embrace. You grab onto her. She pulls the blanket over you both. 4 kisses on your head. The feeling of sleep taking over. The thought that nothing was going to be the same.

Your shadow whispering in your ear,

"Sweet dreams, little mouse.."

[littlest-w01f]

Handmaid

Neris x Maid Reader

NESTA MASTERLIST

ERIS MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Nesta and Eris married years ago, and the personal handmaid Eris had allocated to Nesta is too pretty for her to not stare

Cw: Nudity, smut, MxFxF, slight temperature play my first time writing smut 18+ MDNI

A/N: Constrictive criticism welcome (pls tell me I did good)

You were a gift to Nesta Archeron-Vanserra the day she married the High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra. You were in charge of taking care of her and helping her get used to being a royal in the Autumn Court. You and Nesta had formed a sort of friendship in the years she had been in your court.

Recently, you had tried your best to ignore the stares Lady Death gave you while you did her hair, the eyes she had fixed to your breasts, tight in your corset, but you could always feel her eyes on you, and every curve on your body.

It was delusional, you told yourself, the High Lady of Autumn would never look at you for longer than necessary, not when she had the High Lord wrapped around her finger since they had gotten married, you felt her stare because you wanted her to.

Nesta's voice called you from her bath while you were setting up some new clothes that Eris had gifted her, blushing a little at the lingerie you were putting away. "y/n?"

You moved quick the second you hear her voice, "My lady, is everything alright?" You pause outside the door, not wanting to walk in while Nesta was bathing.

"Come in, y/n" Nesta's voice called, you looked at the door and decided to open the door, entering.

A deep blush covered your cheeks as you looked at Nesta in all her naked glory, your eyes travelling down her curves, the scent of lavender and her arousal in the air. Your eyes stayed on her curves, her full breasts, soft abs and wide hips calling to you, the way she moved in the tub seemed to taunt you.

She had a smirk on her face as she set her foot on the edge of the tub, throwing a scrub to you which you instantly caught, "I was hoping you could help me."

You pause, eyes snapping back to hers, "Yes. Yeah... Yes, I can, my lady."

You nod, taking a seat at the foot of the tub, you could feel Nesta's cat-like grin as you began scrubbing her leg, as your hand reached her thigh she spread her legs, making you blush harder as she lay bare in front of you. You kept up your work, helping Nesta, helping Nesta do something she liked to do herself.

Your hand glided up her legs, the scent of both your arousals scented the air, but neither of you commented on it. You blushed lightly, a tightness ster in your stomach, heat on your core, feeling her eyes on your cleavage from your dress as you focused on her legs, thighs, hips, and her cunt as she brought down her hands to wash away the soap on her inner thigh.

You swallowed as Nesta got up, and you mindlessly handed her a towel, she thanked you and got out, not before fully brushing against you, her body pressed against yours, "Thank you, gorgeous. For the help." She breathed down your neck, you were sure she grazed her teeth against your pulse point, a feel of something cold, but you were too zoned out to think clearly to know.

Then she left you alone in the bath, probably changing as you stayed near the tub, collecting yourself while your dress had gotten water on it from her body. You looked at yourself in the mirror, maybe you weren't delusional, or maybe you would soon lose your job if Nesta were to tell Eris of what happened. The place still smelled of Nesta's arousal mixed with yours.

You left the bathroom when you were sure Nesta had left to retire to your room in the servant's chambers and when you opened the door, you found Eris already standing near your bed. Your heart dropped, you were about to lose your job. Four hundred years of this very well-paying job as a maid of the Vanserra family, and you were about to lose it over being stupid.

"My lord, I..." You spoke, wanting to defend yourself, but Eris silenced you with a look and inching closer to you, perhaps, your body had given up wanting to keep your job because your arousal flowed again just by the look of fire in his eyes.

"Hush now, sweetheart," Eris brought his slender finger to your lips, a sly fox-like grin on his face as he stalked closer, "Nesta's been talking about you, in ways I wonder if females don't talk of their friends."

You held your breath as he spoke, his fingers traced your cheeks, "I don't really think that females talk of their friend's body in such great detail, nor do they get aroused that the simple thought of fucking them."

"I'm sorry-" Eris covered your mouth with his hand to silence your apology.

"Oh, you're not at fault." Eris chuckled softly, "Not at all, I'm just here with an offer."

"You see, as a good husband, I am quite open to anything my darling wife wishes to try. And she wants you." Eris' hands trailed down the collum of your neck, where a small frostbite in the shape of teeth marks of Nesta's silver flames was forming, his blunt nails digging in slightly to make you gasp. "So, I am here to ask you to join us this evening. If you wish to of course."

Your mind was blank from his proposition, joining your painfully attractive High Lord and Lady, joining Eris and Nesta. You nodded slowly.

"Yeah?" Eris tilted your head up, his hand on your chin, "Use your words, love."

"Yes..." You spoke up, eyes locked with his, "Yes, I would like that."

Eris smiled, "Good, Nesta would be thrilled." He swiftly moved to the door to your room and opened it.

"Oh, and y/n?" He got your attention, "If you don't show up, we understand. If you wish for it to stop, just yell 'red', we won't hold neither of those things against you." With that, he left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You were bare the instant you walked into their chambers, currently bent over their bed with your head in Nesta's breasts, Eris's cock buried deep inside you, your body was covered in hickeys of burns and frostbites from both of them, Eris' cock moved inside of you with such precision it made you whimper with every drag.

"Aww, listen to those pretty whines," Nesta cooed, pressing your face further into her breasts, a couple hickeys from your lips already surrounding them. "Does my husband's cock feel this good, gorgeous?"

You whimper as Eris chuckles over you, his hands feeling your sides, marking you with his burns. "I think it does, right y/n?" He almost taunted as he pulled your hips back against his cock.

"Yes... Yes, my lord-" You moan softly, pushing back into him, your hands moving up Nesta's curves, digging into her breasts and side. Every thrust of Eris' cock made you feel as if you were on fire, a coil forming in your stomach, threatening to snap, his hands dug into your hips, holding you still and he dove into your sweet spot, making you clench hard around him and moan.

Nesta's hand moved between both of your bodies to play with your clit, her cold flames rivalling Eris' warm ones. You gasped softly, biting into Nesta's shoulder as your High lord and lady played with your body.

Hours, it had been hours, that they had you pressed between them, or under one of them. Cumming on their tongues or hands, leaving you panting and whimpering. They had just been between your legs a few moments ago, making out with each other while they ate you out, the thought of it made you shudder between them. You were living one of your wildest dreams with a step in their chambers.

Nesta was the first to kiss you, her elegant fingers dug into your hips, her body cold, opposite to Eris' warm fire. Eris spend most of his time watching Nesta explore your body, drawing orgasm after orgasm before joining in himself again.

Nesta had touched you like you were the most precious doll in the entire court while Eris used your mouth to get off, Nesta's tongue tasting you as your senses were filled with Eris.

"Er..." Your back arched into his cock, bucking forward into Nesta's hand, "Nes... Fuck..."

Nesta kissed your temple, leaving a slight feel of cold off her flames, "Do you still have some energy in you or are you fucked dumb?"

You gasped softly, "I..." You whined, clenching around Eris, "Don't know..." You melted in Nesta as you twitched over her, your orgasm nearing, eyes rolling back.

Eris smirked thrusting in hard, feeling you tightening around him "Are you close, my dear?" Nesta moved her fingers faster around your clit at his words while the other hand played with your breasts.

"M'gonna..." You groan as Nesta sucked on one of your breasts, lips pressed against your nipples, hand playing with the other as Eris kissed your neck, "Wanna cum..." You gasp as Eris increases the pace of his thrusts. "Please,"

"Cum, cum for us, sweetheart." Nesta smiled, tongue dragging up from your breasts to the other side of your neck and your dam broke, your release flooding out. A cry left your lips, a cry that got muffled by Nesta's tongue.

You were in peaceful limbo, ears ringing as you came on Eris' cock, Nest's hand still stroking your clit, tears fell from your eyes as their names and titles were nothing short of deity on your lips.

"You want my cum, gorgeous?" Eris grunted in your ear, his thrusts were still deep but uneven, and before you could manage a little nod, he spilt inside you, pressing his hand down on your lower back to make you arch hard. Nesta stoked over your stomach as he filled you with his cum the warmth of his cum settling in you, like fire in your abdomen. His ragged breaths calmed as he chuckled.

Eris pulled out of you, stroking your sides softly as you breathed heavily, watching his cum leak out of your cunt, his hands held your thighs, spreading you for his eyes, his hands heating your skin, "So beautiful, little maid." He whispered as Nesta pushed her fingers inside of your empty cunt, pushing his cum back inside, cooing words of encouragement in your ear as your head was dropped on her shoulder.

"Well, I have duties to attend to," He looked up, leaning down to give his wife a gentle kiss, followed by a kiss to your shoulder, "You two females enjoy yourselves."

Neither of you said goodbye to him as Nesta began to thrust her fingers in and out of your cunt, kissing you, her tongue thrusting in your mouth. "I'll take that as my leave." Eris rolled his eyes rather playfully as he entered his bath to tidy himself up.

Nesta flipped you over, pressing you under her, "Now where were we?" Nesta smirked as you looked up at her, your brain mushy, fucked dumb, as Nesta had put it.

A chuckle left your lips as Nesta kissed and licked down your bare body, biting at places that weren't already covered, reaching your cunt she spread your folds, giving soft licks to your cunt cleaning you of Eris' cum, moaning at the taste of you are Eris combined. "I bet I can fit my entire hand in your pretty little cunt now." Nesta whispered, sucking your clit to get a reaction out of you. "Or maybe I should sit on your pretty face."

"Please... Please, yes." You thrust your hips against her lips with a moan, ready for anything your High Lady wished to give you.

{general Taglist: @nox-ceur}

{Eris Taglist: @fxckmiup @amygdtjhddzvb @slut4acotar}

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Feral 2

Minors Do Not Interact!!!

Warnings: brief mentions of arranged marriage, threats of harming an animal (it's a joke but the reader takes it seriously), and several references to slavery

The silly little cat fic is getting a sequel because someone commented that Feyd not liking Friz would make him Friz's favorite person.

"Get him." Feyd said firmly.

Y/N snorted out a laugh. Ever since the wedding she had gotten very comfortable around him. He liked that. He wasn't a fan of a certain flea bag getting that comfortable though.

Friz had a new habit. A habit that annoyed Feyd to no end. Anytime Feyd sat down somewhere, Friz would climb up on the back of the couch or chair, and rub against the back of Feyd's head. Normal he would just ignore the beast until the creature got bored, but with Friz's newfound affections came a fun new fact. Something about the combination of Friz's fur and Feyd's skin created a bit of static. Every damned hair the cat shed stuck to his head like it was glued. Only showering or a lint roller would get it all off. Every damned time he left his rooms he had to triple check himself to make sure he wasn't walking around with cat fur on his head. Y/N was admittedly helpful about the situation, often going over him with a lint roller before he left.

Friz seemed to have an endless supply of fur that fell off of him at the slightest touch. The beast didn't seem to have much fur when you looked at him, but it was a cowardly deception. Y/N had taken an undercoat brush to Friz while Feyd watched, horrified at the amount of fur that kept getting brushed off of him. It was never ending. And after Y/N was done, a giant clump of furballs next to her to prove she'd done it, Friz looked no different. And still she'd on the couch that evening during his nap time.

"The maids scramble about to keep this place as fur free as possible." Y/N explained to him, throwing the fur into the incinerator. "I've no idea how they do it, I think they use some sort of hand rake that works kind of like the undercoat brush."

"Remind me to increase their rations." Feyd grumbled.

Which brought Feyd back to his current predicament. Friz was standing in the back of the couch, rubbing against his head like he owned it. Y/N held out her hand, offering pets to Friz.

The tomcat promptly gave her a warning hiss.

"It's out of my control." Y/N said.

"And you're sure we can't shave him?" Feyd pressed.

"He'll get sick. Giedi Prime is already so cold, I can't let him freeze without his coat." Y/N explained.

Feyd opened his mouth to say that wasn't the worst outcome he'd ever heard, but went silent when he felt it. On the back of his head. Something warm, wet, and scratchy. It touched him briefly, then disappeared for a split second before touching him again, and again, and again.

Y/N grinned from ear to ear. "Aw, he's grooming you!"

Feyd growled, crossing his arms in what definitely was not a pout. "I am cleaner than he has ever been."

"You know, cats only groom things they consider to be family. And since you're new to him, and have no hair, he might think you're a kitten!" Y/N giggled. "A poor, cold little kitten with no hair."

A little meow from behind him assured the both of them that not only could Friz understand them somehow, but he was committed to this entire bit.

"I'll toss you to the slave pits." Feyd threatened the cat. "They're usually half starved. They'll tear you to-"

"Feyd." Y/N snapped. "If you speak to him like that again, you'll need to go to your own room tonight."

Feyd took a deep breath, gently reminding himself that his wife wasn't from Giedi Prime, that she was softer than him, that she wasn't going to take kindly to even joking threats. "My apologies. Is there some solution to his shedding I have overlooked?"

"Well, regular baths would help." Y/N said. "Right now I can only manage about one every two weeks, but if I could give him longer bathes where I really get in there and scrub him, it'll knock a lot of fur off."

Feyd narrowed his gaze at Friz as the cat jumped into his lap. "Consider it done."

[carlsdarling]

How to save a cat Part II

Carl and Y/N take care of the cat together and grow closer… Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: angst, violence

"Stay behind me," Carl instructed you, raising his gun.

"Out of the question, I'll help you," you contradicted grimly and went after a female walker with the knife in your hand, stabbing her in the forehead.

It wasn't easy, but a little later you two had killed all six walkers. "Are you all right?" made Carl sure, wiping rotten blood from his hands. The stench of the undead was simply sickening.

"Yes," you muttered, already heading for the cabin, but Carl outran you and pulled you back.

"Wait, Y/N," he ordered curtly. "We don't know what's in the cabin. I want to check it first, to make sure if it’s safe." You sighed. You barely knew each other, but Carl was so overprotective. "All right," he then announced, and you entered the cabin. The cat had huddled in a corner, frightened, and was growling and hissing at you. Carefully, you approached him, murmuring soothingly at him. You reached out to him, ignoring all his snarling and fussing. The cat was obviously very young, and totally emaciated, full of fleas and ticks.

"He's not in good condition," Carl complained as you picked up the cat. "His leg seems to be broken." It hung down limply.

You cradled the little animal in your arms, giving him your warmth. "But he has a chance, doesn't he?" you asked with tears in your eyes. He felt so fragile.

"Maybe," Carl said distractedly as he rummaged around the cabin, then brought in a wooden box. "We can use this to transport the cat. Have Denise take a look at him. It's too bad Hershel isn't alive, he was a vet, but I think Denise can also splint his leg." Gently, you placed the cat in the crate, then made your way back to Alexandria. Your gloomy thoughts had faded for now, you now had a new mission; someone who needed you.

                                                 ***

Denise had bathed the cat, cleaned him up, put a splint on him, and given him an IV because he was dehydrated. It wasn't until the evening that you were able to pick him up, and Carl accompanied you. "He's a sweet boy," Denise commented, feeding the cat with some milk, boiled eggs and corned beef. "What are you going to call him?"

"He looks like a Garfield, I think," you said indecisively, stroking the reddish fur.

Carl nodded. "I think Garfield is a good name for him."

Your parents allowed you to keep Garfield - your dad had never objected to pets, he preferred that to you hanging around with people who didn't please him and who weren't worthy enough in his eyes.

But that very evening there was trouble again when you told your parents that you were going on a scavenging trip with Carl the next morning to get cat food and supplies for Garfield.

Your father looked at you sternly. "I hope you realize that the Grimes boy is no company for you," he said snidely. "Let him go with you to get the supplies for the cat, but I forbid you to befriend him."

"Why?" you enthused. "Carl's so friendly, and I like him."

"He's just the police chief's son," your father spat, cutting his bread in two halfs. He had appointed Rick as Alexandria's police chief. "He's not nearly good enough for you. He's under your class, and on top of that he's got this... disfigurement." Disgusted, he pointed to his own right eye.

You stopped eating. "That's so mean and shallow," you said, stunned. "It’s not Carl’s fault, after all, you know he got shot, and it doesn't make him a different person, he..."

You didn't see the slap coming, but it was so hard that your lip was split open and blood dripped onto the table.

"Go to your room," your father ordered. "Dinner is canceled for you. I've warned you. Don't you dare get involved with Carl Grimes." You looked to your mum, who, as usual, avoided your help-seeking gaze. There was a glass of scotch in front of her, and her glazed eyes revealed that she had once again consumed Valium. Never did your mum defend you, never did she speak her mind! All she did was to drug herself. Not once had she sided with you or poor Brooke, always accepting your father's tyranny. For that, you hated her almost as much as you hated your dad. She was such an incredible coward, and you despised her.

                                                  ***

Carl immediately noticed your swollen lip when you got into the car with him the next morning. "Who did that?" he asked, upset and gritting his teeth. You had intended to lie to him and claim that you had hit a door in the dark, but you were aware that he wouldn't believe that anyway.

"My dad," you countered cagily. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?" you immediately rebuffed.

Carl stared at you, horrified. "But it's not okay for him to treat you like that," he snapped. "He has no right to do that. My dad is chief of police, I could..." For the first time you noticed what a beautiful eye color Carl possessed, and what a handsome face, and how charmingly his dark hair contrasted with his fair skin.

"No!" you interrupted him, placing your hand on his. "Please don't, Carl. Please, stay out of this. I'll only get in more trouble," you said quietly, looking to the side.

Carl was silent for a moment. "Fine, if that's the way you want it," he grumbled disapprovingly. "But it's not okay!" You let that go uncommented, and the drive went on in silence.

You found a pet supply store and looted a large quantity of canned cat food, kibbles, and a litter box; also cat toys, a scratching tree, a cat bed, and lots of cat litter. "Thanks, Carl," you said as he started the motor and steered the car onto the road leading back to Alexandria.

"Do you want to go home already, or do we want to have some fun first?" asked Carl mischievously, winking at you, "Your dad doesn't have to know anything." He pointed to a large building to the right. It was painted in bright colors and the billboard on the street read, "Joyland - THE one and only indoor playground!" "Come on," Carl urged, "We don't have to stay long, just an hour or so. You look like you could use a little distraction." Finally nodding, he parked the car and you got out. Fortunately, there were no walkers anywhere to be seen.

Inside the building, daylight fell through the domes in the ceiling. There was a lot of playground equipment that you two were actually much too old for - a huge ball pit, several slides, and various trampolines. There was also a roller skating rink. Carl took a running start and jumped into the ball pit, laughing. "Come on in," he urged you, and finally you gave in. You frolicked in the ball pit, wrestling with each other, then you tried the slides and finally the biggest trampoline.

Eventually you were completely out of breath; sweaty, you let yourself drop in a corner of the trampoline to rest. Carl sat down next to you, drops of sweat were on his forehead, and his sweet face was all flushed. His eye sparkled with joy. "I'll go get us something to eat and drink," he announced, climbing down the ladder and running across the great hall, toward one of the abandoned vendor kiosks.

After a few minutes, he returned with masses of snacks and two cans of Coke. "I'm afraid the Coke isn't very cold," he commented. You didn't care, you were thirsty, and greedily you emptied your can. Carl tore open several bags of snacks and candy, and you stuffed yourselves with them without restraint.

"Look," you said with a giggle, holding up a bag of cheesy corn wheels. "Carlitos," the label read. "Some Carlitos for Carlito?" you asked. Carl grinned and reached for the bag. When you were satiated, you lay on the trampoline with your bellies full, looking up at the concrete ceiling and talking about all sorts of things. Carl turned his head to look at you. Crumbs from the Carlitos were stuck in the corner of his mouth, and you reached out to wipe them away and to stroke his cheek. Carl let it happen, then moved closer to you, pulled you into his arms, and you kissed for the first time. Carl's lips tasted like bell pepper chips and Coke, and they were so soft. Your injured lip hurt a little, but you hardly felt it.

"I can't let my parents know about this," you pressed around, when you were leaving the place and heading for the car. "They... they don't like you."

"Why not?" wondered Carl innocently. "They don't even know me."

"That's not the point, my dad just... doesn't think the son of a plain police chief is good company for me," you muttered angrily. „He's such a snob.“ You didn't want to tell Carl how spiteful your dad had been about his facial injury; you didn't want him to feel bad about his appearance.

"Oh," Carl said, concerned. He never expected that someone would find his father's profession inferior and therefore would reject him, Carl. "Then we'll just meet in secret, Y/N. And maybe your dad will change his mind," he said hopefully.

It's more like hell freezing over, you thought bitterly.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Soldier, Poet, King

Part 15

[Beginning] [Previous]

[AO3] [Masterpost]

Almost a year after the last update, have a new chapter 😅 We're actually in the homestretch of it now and maybe that's why I'm slowing down so much (plus like...life, other projects, you know how it goes)

--//--

“Get this fucking brat off me, I said I’m fine!”

Jin Guangyao continues tapping away at his tablet without a twitch; there are still so many meetings to schedule, so many questions to answer in the wake of their ‘press’ junket, such as it was. Just this morning he’d been contacted directly by the most prominent black market Kaiju parts dealer in Shanghai demanding amnesty lest Jin Guangyao find himself dead in a ditch the next time he steps foot outside the shatterdome, so quite frankly he’s got bigger things to worry about than the wet-cat-protesting-his-bath that is Xue Yang.

“You promised, love,” is all Xiao Xingchen has to say for Xue Yang to settle down with only a little more biting, and considering Nie Huaisang has just taken over the task of poking and prodding him from Mo Xuanyu the biting isn’t really much of a threat, save for the vague potential for infection. Who knows where that mouth has been.

“You’re almost single-handedly responsible for the worst turn this war has taken since it began, so I’d say you’ve lost the right to make demands from us ummmm..indefinitely,” Wei Wuxian replies from his makeshift work area in the back corner of the lab, feet up on his desk and also tapping a mile a minute at his own tablet (though whether he’s doing groundbreaking Kaiju research that could also change the entire course of the war or playing a rhythm game is really anyone’s guess; both are equally likely).

“I used your notes so you’re on the hook for it just as much as I am! You’re basically the Grandmaster of fringe Kaiju research and shit, this is all your fault too!!”

“Wow, that’s a boring argument to have heard for the 30th time today. When are you going to get sick of repeating it?” Wei Wuxian yawns. Jin Guangyao refuses to smile at the rather blatant riling-up that Xue Yang so loves to do to everyone else and yet can’t seem to handle when it’s turned right back on him.

“Take it easy,” he calls without looking up from his work; in his peripheral vision he watches Xue Yang attempt another lunge off the slapdash examination table (comprised mostly of a filing cabinet laid on its side and Nie Huaisang’s emergency cot resting on top of it) set up in the middle of the lab, but of course Nie Huaisang hadn’t even needed to be told to tie him down as soon as they’d gotten him on it (“Buy me dinner first, Sangsang!”) so there’s really nothing for him to do but thrash against his restraints.

“Told you he’s feral,” young A-Qing mutters under her breath, sounding mutinous around the chak-chak-chak of chomping on her ever-present bubblegum.

“Yes dear we know he is, and something tells me that cracking open the brain of an interdimensional Lovecraftian nightmare so he could try slurping the contents out like a slushee hasn’t improved things very much,” he replies and feels oddly vindicated when she snorts a laugh into the back of her hand.

A-Qing is…unexpected. He’d heard her calling for Xue Yang to come upstairs that night he and Nie Huaisang had gone to see him at The Cockpit, though of course that evening he hadn’t known precisely who she was or why she felt she had the right to boss Xue Yang around. Finding out that she’s the once-wayward-child-turned-protegé of the Immortals (and that her ethics are significantly more dubious than her benefactors’) had been..a surprise, to put it mildly. Not that he thinks that Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen aren’t perfectly capable guardians, of course, but rather he’s surprised that two distinguished gentlemen such as themselves seem very fond of collecting people who could be reasonably compared to scrungly alley cats and ignoring all their mange and fleas in favor of cooing over how sweet and brilliant they are.

And they are (brilliant, at least, though not any given definition of sweet to anyone except their ‘daozhangs’), but the contrasts at play in their little fucked up family of four are still a bit of a mystery to Jin Guangyao.

It had been A-Qing, apparently, who had hacked the CCTV and the ‘dome’s video feeds long enough to broadcast Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun’s deaths straight to the communications tower (and the entire city), and as such Nie Mingjue has instructed that she give their security team an extremely thorough rundown of every breach in their defenses that she had exploited. Jin Guangyao still desperately wishes someone had thought to record Nie Mingjue’s reaction when the girl, standing no taller than his abs and thoroughly uncaring of the danger she was putting herself in, had laughed in his face, popped her gum, and told him that it had taken no longer than an hour the afternoon of the Kaiju’s arrival to get her hands on everything digital in the ‘dome, not just their camera feeds. He hasn’t seen his lover turn that shade of red in a very long time, nor ever seen him so sorely tempted to shout at someone less than half his age and height.

Anyway — she’d taken a shine to Jin Guangyao within minutes of Lan Xichen ushering everyone into the ‘dome to avoid further scrutiny by the press, easily picking him out as one of the adults in the room most likely to indulge her quasi-legal and morally gray brand of ethics outside of her beloved daozhangs. So now here she sits, tinkering around with something Wei Wuxian had given her to turn into a signal jammer for anyone outside the ‘dome attempting to access anything on their network or frequencies, and Jin Guangyao has found himself on ersatz babysitting duty.

(She is also, according to Xiao Xingchen, worried about Xue Yang’s health and wouldn’t be able to focus well working somewhere she can’t keep an eye on his condition; an assessment which Jin Guangyao very politely and very secretly thinks is a load of horseshit.)

“Stop biting, Yangyang, or I’m going to have to knock you out,” Nie Huaisang scolds, and Jin Guangyao is genuinely surprised when it works. Xue Yang quiets down and seems resigned to his fate of being hooked up to various machinery to monitor just about every measurable aspect of human life.

“He has nightmares when he’s unconscious,” A-Qing whispers conspiratorially. Jin Guangyao leans over a bit to hear better and keeps his eyes on Xue Yang, wary of his sudden acquiescence proving itself to be a fake-out. “Really bad ones. I think he’s still in their heads a little.”

“Heads? Plural?” Jin Guangyao asks.

“Uh-huh. He Drifted with one but he says it was all of them, all at the same time. Like the Borg.”

Jin Guangyao frowns and feels like he’s missing something, namely whatever the hell the ‘Borg’ are, but Wei Wuxian makes somewhat aggressive eye contact and puts a finger to his lips to shush him and then makes a sort of ‘keep going’ gesture.

Jin Guangyao glares at him for the contradictory instructions but decides he must mean to just keep her talking about the Kaiju specifically, not to get sidetracked on whatever ‘Borg’ is.

“He knew that the last Kaiju would follow him.”

“Of course he did,” A-Qing snorts, shrugging like she can’t be bothered as she returns to her tinkering, “That was the whole point of the plan to kill your dad, but he knew he could do it because they’re all trying to get at him now. All the time. He says they’re calling for him but it’s more like shrieking he can't ever stop listening to.”

Well. Xue Yang is an obnoxious and genuinely dangerous menace, but being relentlessly pursued by an unknown number of Kaijus who can get in his head any hour of the day or night is not a fate Jin Guangyao would wish on anyone. Another glance at Wei Wuxian proves that he’s turned pale and seems to understand precisely what Jin Guangyao does about what that must be doing to Xue Yang’s already tenuous grip on sanity.

“He’s about to overload.”

Jin Guangyao does not jump at Song Zichen’s sudden comment from behind him, his voice is too quiet for that, but it’s certainly a little disconcerting. He doesn’t have time to ruminate on the slightly eldritch creepiness of the Immortals, though, as he looks over at Xue Yang again and is alarmed (to put it mildly) to find that his neck has turned…blue? There’s an entire network of veins standing out under his skin as he strains against his cuffs but they’re the same neon blue of fresh Kaiju blood rather than anything human, and Nie Huaisang seems to realize in the same moment that the new way Xue Yang is straining against his cuffs has absolutely nothing to do with his hatred for being confined.

“Go get the Wens,” Jin Guangyao orders Wei Wuxian, who promptly jumps to his feet in a flurry of papers to tear out of the lab. Xue Yang thrashes around a guttural scream that only barely manages to escape the tightening confines of his throat and Mo Xuanyu lunges forward from where he’d backed off at Xue Yang’s protest in order to take over the various sensors and instruments hooked to him again.

“His readings are all over the place,” Mo Xuanyu reports over the sound of Xue Yang’s screaming. “It’s a miracle he’s not dead, the Kaiju seem to have completely rewired his brain!”

Jin Guangyao takes note of that in a distant sort of way as he stands in front of A-Qing in a futile attempt to shield her from watching Xue Yang’s shockingly rapid deterioration. The Immortals are standing at his head, Xiao Xingchen attempting to keep him from thrashing so much he injures himself and Song Zichen pressed up behind his husband to hold Xue Yang’s shoulders down with a grip so firm his knuckles and fingertips have gone white.

Whatever it is that’s happening to the veins in Xue Yang’s neck is spreading, the same spidery blue veins standing in stark relief in his temples and across his forehead, and he can only assume it’s spreading downwards as well. (With a detached sort of interest he wonders what’ll happen if it reaches his heart, but it’s highly likely that they don’t want to find that out if they also want Xue Yang to survive. Which he does.)

The Wen siblings arrive just as Xue Yang’s screaming is choked off, quite literally, by a profusion of foamy blood, and as Jin Guangyao turns to usher A-Qing fully out of the room he hears Wen Qing calling out orders to her brother and everyone else in the room, taking charge of the emergency with her usual deft authority.

“Wait — is he dying? For real?” A-Qing asks, suddenly sounding every bit her very young age. “Wait stop, Yao-ge, stop! He’s not allowed to die unless I kill him!!”

“He won’t die,” Jin Guangyao says smoothly, though he and A-Qing both know that’s not something he’s actually capable of guaranteeing. “I promised him I’d send him away from all of this, somewhere nice in the countryside where no one would ever bother you or him or the daozhangs again. I’ll keep my promise but you must calm down.”

A-Qing is small but she’s ferociously strong for someone her age; Jin Guangyao grapples with her in an attempt to keep her from running back into the lab, their heights and strength almost evenly matched. For a long moment they stand there locked in a struggling stalemate until A-Qing bites his shoulder and Jin Guangyao manages to get a foot hooked around the back of one of her ankles to kick her feet out from under her and bear her to the ground with the loud clang! of bone on metal.

Jin Guangyao winces for the bruises that maneuver definitely left on his knuckles, but that’s preferable to giving poor A-Qing a concussion simply because she’s afraid for Xue Yang’s life. He grits his teeth against a pained shout as A-Qing throws her head back to grind his bruised hand hard enough into the floor that he feels the slight texturing of it for grip start to grate the skin off his knuckles, but still he refuses to let her up.

“Alright come here pipsqueak, up you get.”

Jin Guangyao doesn’t even entertain the thought that Wei Wuxian would dare talk to him like that, so he simply rolls to the side to let A-Qing pop up off the floor — and barrel straight into a much more secure hold in Wei Wuxian’s arms, where she struggles hard against his superior height and strength, and instantly loses.

“Qing-jiejie’s got him under pretty heavy sedation, Xuanyu’s trying to figure out what the fuck that was but he’s stable for now,” Wei Wuxian reports around the ruckus of A-Qing struggling to kick him in the shins. 

“No! You’re gonna make him even crazier, I just told you!” A-Qing practically screeches. “Do you want all the kaijus to know where you are? You just locked him in there with them!!”

Jin Guangyao stands and dusts himself off as Wei Wuxian uses his grip on A-Qing’s arms to spin her around to face him, suddenly as intense and serious as he only gets in the midst of battle.

“His nightmares, you said. The Kaiju are actually trying to talk with him? In real time? They’re actively communicating with him?”

“They’re in his brain, Xian-laoshi!” A-Qing wails, “And you just stuck him in there with them and he can’t get out!”

“Okay, I hear you,” Wei Wuxian soothes, though Jin Guangyao notes that he still hasn’t released his death grip on A-Qing’s scrawny biceps, holding her rooted to the spot in front of him. “We’ll wake him up as soon as we can, you have my word. But he’s a danger to himself right now until we can figure out what’s going on with him, physically, and we don’t want him to hurt himself any more than he already has. Do you hear me?”

A-Qing wavers for a long moment, glancing back at the door to the lab like she wants to make a break for it, but in the end she just sags in Wei Wuxian’s grip and nods, clearly miserable.

Jin Guangyao is suddenly very aware that for all her genius and her scrappy alley-cat bluster she’s still only a teenager, and a young one at that.

“I understand.”

“Do you want one of the daozhangs to come take you back to your quarters?”

“...Bai-daozhang.”

“Alright, we’ll get him. You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s going to be fine.”

Jin Guangyao doesn’t even wait for Wei Wuxian to realize that — in this one singular instance! — Jin Guangyao is prepared to do whatever he thinks best without question. He turns back to the lab and steps into the controlled chaos that is the Wen siblings dancing around each other with hardly a word needed as they attempt to save Xue Yang’s body while Mo Xuanyu and Nie Huaisang frantically get all the data on his mental state that they can possibly scan for in the interim.

The Immortals are, thankfully, simply standing to the side to watch the proceedings with eerie stillness, not even seeming to blink as they stare at Xue Yang lying motionless under a soft cage of wires and IV drips, acupuncture needles sticking out of him in the few places where nothing is stuck to him.

“Xiao Xingchen?”

Xiao Xingchen’s gaze is intense when he turns it on him, his perpetually-smiling lips set into a grim line for the first time since Jin Guangyao has met him. The effect is startling, to see someone so gentle pushed so far, but Jin Guangyao is not a man easily cowed.

“A-Qing is asking for you; she’s…distressed by the current situation.”

“Ah.” Xiao Xingchen’s icy expression softens ever so slightly. “Of course, just give me one moment and I’ll take her somewhere less fraught.”

Jin Guangyao nods and tucks his hands behind his back to hide the way he’s clutching at one thumb in the curl of the opposite palm, squeezing it to ground himself. He watches, curious, as Xiao Xingchen turns to step directly in front of his husband and the pair of them lock eyes for a moment, right hands on each others’ temples and thumbs pressed to the curves of their cheekbones just below the eye. They stand in perfect stillness for a long moment and then break apart at some signal only they can understand.

His confusion must be too obvious, as Xiao Xingchen offers him a crookedly sly smile as he approaches.

“Our cybernetics are capable of linking to one another,” he explains and gently shepherds Jin Guangyao back out into the hallway by the strength of his magnetic presence alone. “What he sees I will see and vice versa, until we break the connection again. It takes some getting used to, but it’s quite handy.”

“I can imagine so,” is all Jin Guangyao can think to reply. They step into the hallway again and find that A-Qing is at least no longer being restrained, merely standing miserably at Wei Wuxian’s side though she perks up a little at the sight of Xiao Xingchen at his side.

“Come here, sweeting,” Xiao Xingchen soothes and A-Qing runs to his side, tucking up under his arm like a duckling to drape his over-long, trailing sleeve over her own shoulders like a blanket. “A-Yang will be fine, he’s in the best place possible for this to happen, hm?”

A-Qing nods but says nothing as Xiao Xingchen starts to lead her away, still murmuring warm, gentle reassurances that calm even Jin Guangyao, though naturally they aren’t aimed at him. When they turn the corner and he’s alone in the corridor with Wei Wuxian, he glances at his companion and pauses at the look on his face.

He’s seen that contemplative expression often since the Wens arrived and Wei Wuxian began helping Mo Xuanyu with his research in earnest. That’s the look of a man barely more sane than the evil genius strapped to the examination table a mere 20 feet away who has an idea that no one is going to like very much, save for himself.

“What are you thinking?” Jin Guangyao prods, despite his self-preservation instincts screaming at him not to encourage whatever new madness has grabbed hold of Wei Wuxian.

“The scans can’t really tell us much,” he muses, thinking out loud, “because his brain has become…different, let’s say. He has new synapses, new types of signals firing between neural pathways that we don’t know how to read or understand what they do because they’re not human signals. And we can’t keep him sedated much longer or I think the Kaiju hivemind or whatever it is really will just turn his brains into porridge; we’re barely holding off a total overload as it is.”

Jin Guangyao is following so far, but he can’t fathom the conclusion, whatever it is that Wei Wuxian has thought of that’s put that manic gleam in his eye.

“So what do you propose we do instead?”

The grim smile that slashes across Wei Wuxian’s boyishly charming face is chilling, and Jin Guangyao has to put conscious effort into not letting his shoulders creep up around his ears.

“He Drifted with a Kaiju brain, ah? I think it’s time somebody tried Drifting with him.”

Jin Guangyao can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the thought of being privy to any more of Xue Yang’s thought processes than he already is. That just doesn’t sound like a good time at all and he certainly wouldn’t have volunteered for such a job even before his brain became part-Kaiju soup.

By the time it hits him a mere moment later that Wei Wuxian means to do it himself — to Drift with Xue Yang now, while he’s being bombarded with signals from the Kaijus no matter the fact that they’ve seen how much damage it’s done to Xue Yang — the man has already brushed past him to hurry back into the lab.

“A-Sang stop scanning, plan B – bring that rig over here, hook me up.”

Jin Guangyao needs to stop this, they’re already down two highly experienced, infinitely valuable pilots and they cannot afford to lose another, especially not one as good as Wei Wuxian and not for something so stupid—

He’s off like a shot down the corridor in an instant, feet pounding on metal grates and concrete floors as he flies through the Shatterdome with grim purpose, ignoring every twinge and ache in his old injuries; he can worry about them later, for now he darts between startled denizens of the ‘dome without apology until he can burst into Nie Mingjue’s office. He slams the door open without knocking and is thankful to whatever miracle of genetics gave him his eidetic memory that remembers precisely what his partners are (meant to be) doing at all hours of the day and where.

The Twin Jades look up from the data tablets and report readouts spread on the table between the three of them, equally startled looks in their wide eyes.

Xichen recovers first and asks, frowning, “A-Yao? What is it, love, what’s wrong?”

He can’t breathe past a stitch in his ribs but he forces himself to gasp anyway, “Wuxian is about to Drift with Xue Yang — he’s going to try to understand what he’s done with the Kaijus from the inside.”

Jin Guangyao stumbles to the side just in time to avoid being bowled over by Lan Wangji bolting from the room swift as an arrow, Lan Xichen barely sparing a moment to glance first at Nie Mingjue and then him before he follows on his brother’s heels at a dead run.

Jin Guangyao bends over to try to catch his breath until he feels large, hot hands pull him straight again and keep lifting until his feet are dangling a few inches off the floor, his arms slung over Nie Mingjue’s shoulders so he can stretch out properly and take all the pressure off his ribs and back.

He sucks in a deep, unobstructed breath and then another, and after the third Nie Mingjue carefully sets him back down on his feet.

“Where are Xingchen and Zichen?” he asks, eyebrows pinched like he’s got a headache coming on.

“Zichen’s in the lab, Xingchen took A-Qing away, I don’t know where. They won’t leave the ‘dome though, I’m sure.”

“I want them in here ASAP, Zixuan and Yanli too if they can make it — I’ve got questions and I’m fucking sick of waiting for the answers.”

–//–

Lan Xichen runs through the shatterdome as fast as he can, chasing little more than glimpses of his brother’s white jumpsuit and the dark ends of his hair whipping around corners as people scatter out of their way with a sort of organized efficiency. He can only hope that they don’t leave panic in their wake — they’re at least running away from the communications tower and the Kaiju sirens are, of course, silent. He doesn’t have time to worry too much about that, though; his priority now has to be Lan Wangji, because Lan Wangji’s will be Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji loves Wei Wuxian past the point of rationality. This has been true for years, long before the pair of them were given the opportunity to work in proximity and let their youthful infatuation mature into something well-rooted in mutual respect and regard for each other. Lan Xichen has been Drifting with his brother since they were teenagers, and though they don’t share their thoughts whilst in the Drift in the same way the other Pilots do, that doesn’t mean Lan Xichen hadn’t known. That kind of devotion isn’t something one can tuck conveniently away in the silence of meditation, and Xichen had done what he could to help his brother nurture that love through obstacles many people could never imagine.

He knows precisely what it will do to his brother if Wei Wuxian loses himself in the way that Xue Yang has. He also knows that if Wei Wuxian must lose himself then Lan Wangji would rather be lost with him than be left behind again to wonder if there was anything he could have done differently to help Wei Wuxian avoid this in the first place.

Wei Wuxian’s inexplicable disappearance to Yiling so many years ago had been difficult for everyone, really.

Lan Xichen practically skids into the research bay mere moments after Lan Wangji and stops himself from careening into it headlong with one hand braced on the doorframe. Lan Wangji, a mere two steps ahead of him, has not stopped voluntarily, that much is clear. He isn’t struggling, but Song Lan and Wen Ning both have death grips on his arms and apologetic looks on their faces when they glance up at Lan Xichen’s arrival. He can see in the next moment why they’ve stopped Lan Wangji with some force; Wei Wuxian is already deep in the Drift, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands in white-knuckled fists on the arms of the chair pulled up next to the exam table Xue Yang is strapped to, the latter thrashing weakly enough that he isn’t dislodging any of the dozen or so tubes and wires stuck into him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lan Xichen asks Wen Qing, standing calmly behind Wei Wuxian’s seat with her hands cupped carefully around either side of his neck.

“If Hanguang-Jun interrupts them now Wei Wuxian may never come back.”

“His brain activity is only slightly abnormal, no more than if he were at risk of chasing the rabbit,” Nie Huaisang pipes up from behind the bank of computers, Mo Xuanyu typing furiously at his side. “Xue Yang was slipping but he stabilized fully once they started Drifting — it’s actually helping I swear!”

“How is this even possible?” Lan Xichen can’t help but ask, feeling helpless in a way he absolutely does not care for. “Xue Yang is hardly sane, let alone Drift Compatible with-”

Lan Wangji is utterly blank, cold as ice, when he interrupts, bleakly, with, “Wei Ying is a true universal Drifter.”

Wen Qing doesn’t do them the disservice of pretending to be surprised, though Lan Xichen vaguely wishes that she would. But of course, if there’s anything abnormal in Wei Wuxian’s medical history, she would be the first to know it. And his siblings would hardly ever betray such a lucrative secret, not when Wen Ruohan would’ve used him the same way he’d used Xue Yang — destroyed him, the way he’d done to Xue Yang.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of monitors beeping and the ragged, uneven breathing of so many people on edge in the same room.

“The ability to establish a successful Drift with a partner is no guarantee that one will not be injured in the process, even in standard procedure. What are the odds that this connection will destroy his neural pathways beyond repair?”

Wen Qing glares at him first and then Lan Wangji, though whatever she’s thinking she doesn’t let it stop her from answering a curt, “50/50.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and stands to his full height, doing his best to compose himself and draw an air of authority around himself, no less a suit of armor than his flight suit. “Song-daozhang. Wen Ning. Please release Wangji.”

They do so after a moment’s hesitation and Lan Wangji snaps his sleeves straight again with sharp tugs on the cuffs, his back ramrod straight in a mirror of Lan Xichen’s. Lan Xichen steps further into the room to stand at his brother’s side, a united front, and curls his hand carefully, unsure of his welcome, around Lan Wangji’s wrist in silent comfort. Lan Wangji naturally doesn’t return the gesture, but he doesn’t pull away either so Lan Xichen leaves his hand where it is, the thick canvas of Lan Wangji’s jumpsuit a comfortable barrier between his grip and his brother’s distaste for physical touch.

Lan Xichen counts to a hundred and thirty-seven before something changes; the steady, muted beeping of one of the monitors abruptly ratchets higher, faster, and Mo Xuanyu’s face goes grim as he begins tapping away at his keyboard, his eyes flying from side to side as he reads whatever strings of data are lighting his face up green.

“It’s okay,” he has the good sense to caution, though he doesn’t look away from his monitor for even long enough to glance at them, “they’re fine, whatever it is they’re experiencing they’re doing it together, still aligned.”

Song Lan shifts his weight suddenly, nothing more than a redistributing of his weight from one foot to the other, but it grabs Lan Xichen’s heightened attention before he’s even completed the motion. He spares the man a glance just as he cocks his head and turns to look at the door behind them.

“What is it?” Lan Xichen asks, his grip tightening unconsciously on Lan Wangji’s wrist.

“Xingchen just told me Chifeng-Zun has sent a runner asking for us. A-Qing doesn’t want to let him go, but we can no longer delay the inevitable. Nor do I wish to.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath, consciously forces himself to release his grip on Wangji’s wrist one aching finger at a time, and both asks for and receives his brother’s forgiveness for the bruising restraint in a pair of glances and a slight nod that he returns.

Honestly Nie Mingjue has been unusually patient waiting even this long to have his questions answered. He has waited without complaint through the recovery period following the battle, through all the planning and soothing of the press, and now through the thoroughly unexpected arrival of Xue Yang and the Immortals. But time is up now, his partner’s patience is wearing thin, and Lan Xichen can admit at least to himself that his own near-infinite patience is depleted as well.

He finds himself torn between a desire to stay here in the lab to support his brother in fretting over the question of Wei Wuxian’s survival against such unique odds and returning to Nie Mingjue’s office to learn the truth from the Immortals. Just as much as he wants to support his brother, he wants to support his partner in his efforts to clean up the mess Xue Yang has dropped on their doorstep, and the desire to do both simultaneously has him at something of a loss-

“Bring them out of it!”

Wen Qing’s sharp order cuts through the tension of the entire room; before Lan Xichen (or Wen Ning) can stop them, Song Lan and Lan Wangji have crossed the room to their respective partners. In the split second before Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu manage to do as she’s said, both Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang scream loudly enough that blood flecks their colorless lips, and by the time they both slump forward, unconscious and eerily silent, they’re being unhooked from the rig as quickly as Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu can work.

In the sudden silence, Lan Wangji’s soft, “Wei Ying,” is unbearably loud.

–//–

“It’s not as bad as we thought, but it’s also worse,” Wei Wuxian rasps; the fact that he’s hunched in his seat and only able to sit upright with Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin bracing him on either side is quite nearly the only thing stopping Nie Mingjue from wringing his neck, his talent and genius be damned. Jin Guangyao rests a restraining hand on his wrist below the table as if he can sense how close he is to losing control. (He supposes it’s entirely possible that he can.)

Xue Yang looks even worse than Wei Wuxian, ashen-faced and a stray drop of blood or two like black freckles on his chin. He’s braced on either side by the Immortals, of course, whose character judgment Nie Mingjue is beginning to question. Deeply.

“Explain.” Really, he should be applauded for his restraint.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat with a little cough that looks like it hurts. “They know what he knows about the pilots, the Jaeger program, our research, everything, but-”

“I didn’t know much-”

“Only what Wen Ruohan wanted him to know and pass along for his own purposes-”

“Not that they understood it much more than we understand them-”

“But obviously they know enough to start mimicking the Jaegers and this is the really interesting bit-”

“They’re built like an assembly-line churning out giant evil monsters that want to beat your ass flat-”

“Well yes but you know, without any sort of personal desire to murder anyone in particular because they’re not necessarily individuals. We keep using the word hivemind-”

“And it is a hive, like really giant freaky bees-”

Nie Mingjue slams his free hand on the tabletop and the back-and-forth between Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang mercifully comes to an abrupt halt.

(“Ooo we made Daddy angry,” Xue Yang mutters, snickering weakly, which Nie Mingjue is electing not to hear.)

“How is this better than we expected, A-Xian?” Jiang Yanli asks, her hands twitching on the tabletop like she wants to reach for her brother even though she’s sitting too far away to reach him.

“The information Wen Ruohan gave them through Xue Yang wasn’t as thorough as we thought; it was designed to manipulate their behavior, not give them blanket information about everything and everyone in the Pilot program,” Wei Wuxian explains, thankfully alone. “If he knows what fighting style they’re going to use next then he can counter it, and if he can tell them when it’s best to attack Tokyo and when to attack Shanghai or Manila or Sydney or San Francisco then it’s all to his benefit. He can control not only his spoils and his money but also his image. He just did it for the first time when he sent the last kaiju to us and instructed Eternal Sun to swoop in to save the day.”

Jin Zixuan rests a hand over Jiang Yanli’s as he asks, “And how is it worse?”

“The connection with Xue Yang has been open every minute since the first time it was initiated several years ago.”

There are no words that Nie Mingjue knows to describe the wave of revulsion that sweeps through him at such a thought, but judging by the expressions he can see around the table on the faces of the rest of those to whom this is news, they’re all feeling the same.

Personal feelings aside, that isn’t a fate he would wish on anyone, not even Xue Yang. To have every moment, waking and sleeping, for years subject to the incomprehensible, violent minds of intergalactic monsters? It’s harsh but someone should’ve done Xue Yang the kindness of putting him out of his misery a long time ago.

“But not anymore,” Xue Yang rasps, bringing Nie Mingjue’s attention back to him. He’s grinning in a way that doesn’t look at all like a smile, sharp and flat with pink-stained teeth.

“That’s temporary,” Wei Wuxian says and he looks distinctly cagey, “I just tried something theoretical-”

“Oohhh it’s not theoretical Wei-gege,” Xue Yang cackles, hacking and coughing like a cat with a hairball, “you’ve done it plenty of times before! Just turned a nice little switch in my brain and made it all go quiet, I saw it!! Saw it in your head, saw it in mine-”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Jiang Wanyin cuts in, jaw clenched and eyes flashing.

Jin Guangyao clears his throat, a pointed reminder to stay on topic that Nie Mingjue’s temper certainly appreciates. Crisply, he says, “You will have plenty of time to discuss it between yourselves later. What I would like to know is what we do next with the information we have. You have now seen the structure of the Kaiju homeworld — we should use this to determine the best way to eliminate their threat to humanity.”

As much as Nie Mingjue would like to feel like they’re coming to some sort of productive conclusion, the fact of the matter is that of the eleven people in the room, four of them are far too injured to sit through a lengthy strategy meeting and they are, unfortunately, the four most important voices. (He supposes it’s really seven injured, if he includes himself and his partners in the list considering they’ve fulfilled the duties Wen Qing gave them medical leave to complete and are due to submit themselves to her care in the medical bay the moment they leave this imromptu meeting.)

He makes no effort to hide his displeasure about all of this as he sighs a heavy, “No,” and fixes a steady stare on his old friends (and Xue Yang). “That will have to come later. All I want to know for now is what you three want from me. You came here for some purpose, and as much as I would like it to be so, I don’t think you’re here to reforge old ties.”

It is, unsurprisingly, Xiao Xingchen who smiles ever so slightly, unashamed of being caught, and nods, his shoulders curving by an inch or two to turn the gesture into a small hint of a bow.

“It was partially driven by a desire to see you, Mingjue, under much better circumstances than when we parted. It was equally a desire to seek out Wei Wuxian, who A-Yang felt certain would be able to help with his condition. The state of things could not be allowed to continue with the danger posed to humanity, but my Shifu could do nothing for him. She has abstained from worldly concerns and is not as knowledgeable on the issue of fringe Kaiju research as Wei-gongzi; she defers to his expertise.”

Wei Wuxian looks rightly poleaxed by such praise, though Nie Mingjue thinks his deathly pallor and the deep bruises under his eyes (the whites of which have turned the violent red of ruptured blood vessels) contributes, rather gruesomely, to the look of shock.

“And then what?” Nie Mingjue can’t help but ask, glad for Jin Guangyao’s hand still on his wrist below the table, and thankful for Lan Xichen’s hand creeping onto his knee on the other side in silent solidarity. “Xue Yang has put all of mankind in the gravest danger imaginable. He’s a threat to humanity because he exists. Even if we can help, what do you expect me to do when it’s over? Let him go?”

“Yes.” Song Lan’s computerized voice is cool and neutral, of course, but his expression belays some sort of strong emotion beneath the calm surface he always maintains. “He has delivered the tool for humanity’s salvation into the hands of your resident genius, and what Wei Wuxian knows soon you will, too. The gift of knowledge and his cooperation in neutralizing the threat he poses, combined with the protection Jin Guangyao has offered him in exchange for his assistance, will repay his debts and leave him free.”

Nie Mingjue does not glare at his partner beside him, who doesn’t even twitch at the mention of whatever it is he’s promised Xue Yang this time. Of course Nie Mingjue knows that Jin Guangyao has always had a vested interest in keeping Xue Yang alive for his own purposes, but what he would have thought was the most important of those purposes has been accomplished; Xue Yang killed Jin Guangshan, what further use could Jin Guangyao have for him?

They can argue about it later. Jin Guangyao has apparently promised Xue Yang his protection, which means Nie Mingjue must once again let go of his fantasy of separating the man’s head from his shoulders. He grits his teeth but manages to push his anger aside for the moment to get back to the matter at hand.

“Fine.”

“The world is changing, old friend,” Xiao Xingchen says, soothing and understanding in equal measure, “and our time is ending. The war must be won soon, you know this. The Jaeger program is limping along, rotting from the inside as it falls prey to greed and complacency. We had no doubt that your righteousness-” Xue Yang snorts; he goes ignored by everyone in the room “-and sense of justice will not allow you to step down while there’s still a fight to be had, and you are one of the few Shatterdome leaders we felt we could trust with the truth of Xue Yang’s misdeeds. Many others would treat it the same as Wen Ruohan has done and attempt to use it for their own personal gain, but we know you will only use it to end this once and for all. That’s why we came here, and when Xue Yang is no longer a danger to himself or others we’ll leave again to go where no one else can find us.”

Silence reigns after such a pronouncement for a few long moments, broken only when Lan Xichen sits up straighter with the faint rustling of his canvas jumpsuit.

“This temporary solution that you’ve employed, Wuxian — is it enough to buy us time to rest before we begin attempting more permanent methods of severing the connection?”

“It should be — if it fails, Wen Qing or Wen Ning will know how to create the same effect.”

There’s some history here that Nie Mingjue is missing, but now doesn’t seem like the time to push it. Those who have been injured are fading quickly (Jiang Yanli has already had to shake her husband awake once), and he’s aware suddenly of how the steady worsening of his temper is likely the result of his neural pathways continuing to weaken as Wen Qing warned they would. As much as he would like to see this resolved now, he can’t ask so much of his partners or his pilots (or, he begrudgingly adds, Xue Yang).

“Fine,” he huffs, slapping his open palm once on the table in punctuation, “everyone is ordered to rest. Barring any emergencies we’ll meet again tomorrow at 1100 hours to strategize. Xue Yang and Wei Wuxian will return to research for monitoring. Dismissed.”

There’s a flurry of movement as most everyone stands either under their own power or assisted by those around them. Jin Zixuan spares him a tight nod before he leans his weight heavily on the handles of Jiang Yanli’s wheelchair and the pair of them leave, held up in the doorway for a moment as the two pairs of three attempt to navigate their exit without letting Wei Wuxian or Xue Yang crumple to the ground.

Nie Mingjue is left alone with his partners, and Lan Xichen wisely stands to shut the door so softly the metal doesn’t even clank against its frame.

“What the fuck have you promised him?” Nie Mingjue asks with no preamble, his gaze fixed on the handle of the door as Lan Xichen sits down in the seat across from them that his brother has just vacated. “A-Yao what have you done?!”

“I did what I had to, and there’s no use being angry at me. I’d do it again in a heartbeat even knowing what we know now, and no amount of yelling will change it.”

Nie Mingjue hates that he’s right; he at least slams the side of his fist down against the table, the boom of it startling Lan Xichen enough to make him visibly jump but he waves off Nie Mingjue’s apologetic grimace immediately.

“I should have killed him years ago when I had the chance,” he growls. “When this is over I never want to see him again. Ever.”

“That won’t be a problem; I’m sending them overseas to the States, or perhaps Canada — somewhere far enough inland that the kaiju are little more than a horror story, where the only impact of an attack is a week’s delay in imports. Whatever intervention Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing will devise to sever his mind from the kaijus’ won’t cure the damage already done, nor will it prolong his life for more than five years, at most. He should live out his remaining years enduring the trials of being loved inexplicably by two of the most righteous men the world has ever seen. He’ll be miserable enough to sate even your desire for revenge within six months.”

Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in, holds it for a count of five, and exhales again slowly. Jin Guangyao’s hand is still on his wrist and he rubs small circles into it with his thumb — it’s as much of an apology as he’s going to get, and he’s just going to have to accept that.

“We should report to Wen Qing. I’m sure she’s going to scold us no matter when we go but we shouldn’t worry her more than necessary, hm?” Lan Xichen murmurs, smiling softly when Nie Mingjue catches his eye. “We’ve gotten our answers and there’s not much more we can do until Wei Wuxian has recovered anyway. I’d like to see you take care of yourself for once, Mingjue.”

“Don’t single me out, we’re all shit at it,” Nie Mingjue grumps, but he stands up anyway and pulls Jin Guangyao with him, watching him closely for any signs that his headlong run from research had aggravated any of his old injuries. Jin Guangyao wrinkles his nose at him when he notices him watching, but Nie Mingjue just ducks in to press a firm kiss to his forehead (offering the same to Lan Xichen holding the door open for them when they pass) and leads his partners out of his office and into the labyrinth of the ‘dome.

They traipse in silence down to the medical bay, Nie Mingjue’s mind churning over the new problems that Wei Wuxian’s Drift with Xue Yang has created, but when they reach their destination he forces himself to put the matter aside for the time being.

“Chifeng-zun,” Wen Qing greets, unimpressed, when they step into the main triage room. “Zewu-Jun, Lianfang-zun. Finally.”

“You told us we could delay until the press had been soothed and the metaphorical fires put out,” Lan Xichen reminds his friend. “We came as soon as we could.”

It’s clear she doesn’t agree but she just jerks her chin towards one of the private examination rooms, and when they troop along behind her Nie Mingjue finds it’s already set up for them, the Drift rig moved over from research and three cots already made up with crisp linens fresh from the laundry. She’s even done them the courtesy of pushing the cots close enough together that they can comfortably touch each other while lying down if need be (though he can’t help but notice that she’s left a conspicuous enough gap between them that it’s clear anything more acrobatic is strictly off-limits). 

“I’ll take you through a Drift myself first, a simple connection test like the first to establish the neural link and ensure it’ll stay stable for longer than a few minutes. You’ll then rest under observation until 0600, and if I decide you’re ready for more then Wen Ning will be in after breakfast to run you through a proper simulation to see how you fare in drop conditions. Questions?”

“Many,” Jin Guangyao dimples. “None about our treatment, but I would like a chat this evening while we’re resting, if you would be so kind.”

“My time is in high demand, Lianfang-zun.”

“As is mine, so I thank you for accommodating me.”

Nie Mingjue ignores the urge to smile as Wen Qing visibly bites down on what has to be a retort that she hasn’t actually agreed to do so, but he knows firsthand how useless it feels to go against Jin Guangyao when he’s decided to be stubborn like this. She folds with a nod and a sour little twist to her mouth, and Jin Guangyao at least has the good sense not to gloat over his victory (though his partner does wink up at him when he turns to approach the Drift rig). Nie Mingjue follows his partners over to the rig and he could swear he can already feel himself relaxing, the promise of the comfort of their minds slowing his heart rate and narrowing his focus to the immediate present in a way he almost never gets to appreciate.

He sits still through the familiar process of being hooked up and settles automatically into an almost meditative circuit of breathing and calming his mind further as Wen Qing gets Jin Guangyao connected next and finishes with Lan Xichen, her hands working deftly over the tangle of wires and sticky pads to connect them to his skin-

“WEI WUXIAN!!!”

Nie Mingjue is too calm to jump — but only just. The door to the medical bay slams open with a deafening clang and he and Wen Qing shout a reprimand in chorus, “JIANG WANYIN!”

She continues, “I have patients!! Get out of my med bay if you’re not dying!”

Wei Wuxian comes barreling into the room first and Nie Mingjue thinks, at a glance, that actually he might be dying. He has to clutch at the door frame to stay upright, his face is pale as bone and his eyes are, of course, still blood-red from his Drift with Xue Yang, and he’s panting like he’s just run a marathon.

“Wuxian,” Lan Xichen breathes and, as he’s only half-wired in, quickly divests himself of the various nodes in favor of getting to his feet and hauling Wei Wuxian upright just as twin lines of dark red blood begin to drip from his nostrils.

Wen Qing hurries past them to stop Jiang Wanyin, just barely visible over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder; he’s clearly distraught, his teeth bared and his eyes red-rimmed and glittering with furious tears.

“Don’t you dare protect that bastard-” he grits out, straining against Wen Qing standing in his way to block him from his brother.

Nie Mingjue sighs heavily and starts unsticking all the wires Wen Qing had just placed on him, Jin Guangyao doing the same beside him with an equal air of resignation.

“Your idea to push them all to their limits,” he mutters to his partner under the sound of Jiang Wanyin continuing to hurl abuse at his brother barely staying conscious in Lan Xichen’s arms.

“Your idea to support the Pilot exchange project in the first place,” Jin Guangyao retorts — a weaker argument than he’d usually make, but Nie Mingjue isn’t in the mood to press his advantage.

“Wen-daifu, Wuxian needs attention. Where’s Wangji?” Lan Xichen asks, his question answered in the next moment when Lan Wangji sweeps into the medical bay looking icy enough that Nie Mingjue would swear the temperature drops at least a degree or two from the force of his fury alone. It’s a wonder that Jiang Wanyin doesn’t seem at all intimidated at his entrance — instead he looks somehow even angrier. In fact, he looks damn near apoplectic when Lan Wangji steps up behind Wen Qing to further block Jiang Wanyin’s access to Wei Wuxian.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Nie Mingjue finally snaps, his voice carrying over and cutting through the rest of the panicked, angry chatter like a cleaver. Jiang Wanyin opens his mouth, and Nie Mingjue fixes him with the hardest glare he can. “Do not start shouting at me, Jiang Wanyin, or nothing Wen-daifu can do will save you.” The audible snap of the man shutting his mouth does less to assuage Nie Mingjue’s temper than Jin Guangyao resting his hand on the small of his back.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji calls, low and intense, and all attention in the room zeroes in on them as Lan Xichen transfers Wei Wuxian’s weight into his brother’s arms.

“Get him over to a cot, Wangji. Wanyin, get out.” Wen Qing steps smartly away, clearly expecting to be obeyed. Wangji carefully lifts an unprotesting Wei Wuxian into his arms and lays him down carefully on the nearest bed and Nie Mingjue realizes he’d looked like he was awake but he’s not conscious, or at least he’s not aware. His eyes are darting back and forth, flickering between things that aren’t there, and his mouth is moving in constant soundless muttering that puts the hair up on the back of Nie Mingjue’s neck.

“Come on, Wanyin,” Lan Xichen murmurs; he’s tugging gently on Jiang Wanyin’s arm, trying to get him to move in the direction of the door, but the man is standing, unmoving, staring in dawning horror at his brother being carefully held down by Lan Wangji and prodded at by Wen Qing’s acupuncture needles.

“You idiot,” he finally whispers, his expression twisting from horror to anguish, “You goddamn idiot!!”

Wen Qing doesn’t even look up from her work to snap, “Wanyin get out!! I’ll talk to you later!”

This time Jiang Wanyin allows himself to be towed out of the room, and Lan Xichen shuts the door quietly behind them, cutting off whatever Jiang Wanyin starts shouting as they go.

“What happened?”

“Wanyin demanded to know what Wei Ying did to Xue Yang.” Lan Wangji’s voice is quiet but his disdain for his partner’s brother is clear enough. “Wei Ying did not wish to answer, but when Wanyin’s continued insistence triggered this episode, your brother revealed the truth.”

Wen Qing sighs, her lips thinning with obvious displeasure, but she doesn’t pause in her work.

“I’m assuming these are the questions you would like answered as well, Lianfang-zun?”

“An astute observation.”

Wen Qing sighs again and stands up straight as before, her hands resting lightly on either side of Wei Wuxian’s neck, her thumbs pressed carefully against his jaw as he slips into true unconsciousness. His eyelids don’t even flicker with the movement of his eyes anymore; he looks far too like a corpse for comfort like this, but at least he doesn’t look like a man possessed.

“It was a secret I promised to take to my grave, but if A-Ning has told Wanyin already then I can’t keep it from you. You need to Drift first as soon as Zewu-Jun comes back, but after I’ve stabilized all of you, including Wuxian, then I swear I will tell you everything.”

“Everything,” Nie Mingjue emphasizes, catching Wen Qing’s glare with one of his own. “You’re not in Tokyo anymore, Wen-daifu, and anyone who wanted to profit off of secrets in this Shatterdome is dead.”

Wen Qing’s eyes flicker to Jin Guangyao at his side, but Nie Mingjue isn’t sure whether she wants to argue that that isn’t true, with Jin Guangyao for her example, or if she’s checking to see if he’ll react strongly again to the reminder that Jin Guangshan is gone. Either way, Jin Guangyao doesn’t even so much as twitch at his side.

She hesitates for a few beats longer before she nods with obvious reluctance. “Fine. Everything. We’ll need Mo Xuanyu to bring us Wei Wuxian’s research.”

“There are horrors in Wei Ying’s past that he has kept from his siblings for many years,” Lan Wangji speaks up, too quiet to startle even though Nie Mingjue had nearly forgotten he was there, so still and silent he’s been while he sits at Wei Wuxian’s side. “He has developed a way to carve up his mind and isolate sections of memory and thought; there are things he does not wish for them to ever know.”

Nie Mingjue is glad for the practice of navigating Lan Xichen’s polite roundabout phrasings to help him understand the heart of what Lan Wangji is getting at now.

“Anything we learn will remain completely confidential, Wangji. You have my word.”

“And mine,” Jin Guangyao adds, and though Nie Mingjue doesn’t quite understand why he deemed it necessary, Wangji’s shoulders only relax ever so slightly after the second promise is made.

“Mn.”

“Go back to your treatment,” Wen Qing instructs them in her ever-professional brusque tone. “I’ll be in with Zewu-Jun to start the Drift in a moment, this changes nothing.”

Nie Mingjue levels her with a final significant look before he turns to do as instructed — he’s long since learned not to test a doctor’s temper — but as he ushers Jin Guangyao out of the room ahead of him he can’t help but overhear Lan Wangji’s quiet but firm reply,

“No, Wen-daifu. This will change everything.”

[erinawritesheadcanons2]

Hey author! Could you give me a headcanons of Classic, Blue, and Dance with cat lover S/O

~♡Undertale Sans, Underswap sans and Dancetale Sans with CAT LOVER S/O♡~

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A/N: Thank you Anon for requesting this HCS! I'm sorry for the long update, it has been such a hectic day because of college and research. I hope you understand! Also, I am surprised there is a fellow cat lover among my readers, they are a lovely troublemakers

(´｡• ω •｡`) ♡~

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Animal Abuse on last scene.

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Undertale Sans

As you can see, Sans can be very lazy as he likes to nap every second and earn a scold from his older brother Papyrus just like a cat since this furball likes to sleep a lot.

When you are going to his house with a cat in your arms, he was rather shocked because he did not expect you to bring an adorable furball into his humble place.

He did not mind at all. In fact, Undertale Sans is going to get along with your cat so much that you would even get jealous sometimes with their interaction.

Sans is going to cuddle with your cat a lot as he let the kitten sleep on top of his stomach while he is snoring or letting your cat sleep next to him.

Undertale Sans also going to spoil your cat a lot when you are not looking because he is a sucker for cute animals. As your eyes are away, he is secretly giving your cat some leftover sausages or meats and then acting innocent once again when you look at him.

Eventually, your cat became even more clingy to your boyfriend instead of you and make you wonder why your cat loves him more than you even though you're the one who found the kitten first.

Sans would also help you take care of your cat except for bathing because he knows bathing cats can be problematic so he's letting you who would bath your cat.

Overall, you and Sans already like the parents of the kitten that you just brought to your and Sans's house and the two of you would spoil the kitten rotten.

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It was late in the afternoon as snows falling down from the sky that are starting to appear dark with severals stars that were shining like diamonds on the sky. It was really cold and many monsters or human walking around in the small town, ignoring the cold temprature and ready ro go inside their home sweet home to warm themselves from the cold.

On the corner of the street, a person with a thick brown trench coat with white turtleneck sweater underneath it, a pair of black gloves and a thick pair of trousers walking dorn from the sfreets and clasping their/her/his hands together to keep their/her/his hands warm.

Upon the alleyway, (Y/N) can hear a loud shifting sounds from ibsidr of the darkness. Depite the brain telling her/him/them 'No, it could be something dangerous.' Curiosity gets the best of (Y/N) and ignoring the obbious warning by going inside and following the loud sound.

Near the green garbage container, the shifting sounds got louder and louder. (E/C) eyes widened, seeing a small box next to it with two little creatures, pointy ears, and large eyes looking at (Y/N) (L/N) with such sad eyes. On the box, it was clearly written with black sharpie 'Please Adopt this kittens' big and clear.

(Y/N) (L/N) was contemplating for a moment seeing two little hungry creatures and thinking if they/she/he can adopt them but the last 'Meow' sound made you finally choose to take the cats inside to your house and give them a warm place to live before gently and carefully picking up the box.

"Let's go home, buddy. I will take care of you," you whisper.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

There was no exciting shows and all channels mostly show news or weird cartoons as the skeleton with a blue hoodie, a white t-shirt underneath, black shorts with white stripes, and a pair of fluffy pink slippers snoring out loud on the couch and not bothered to watch any shows.

The door slammed open and one of his eyes opened with a smile on his face, 'Heya kiddo. Was work really busy-" he was going to ask why you were so late until his eyes landed on the box and both of his eyes immediately open wide. Curious why did you bring a big box into the small house.

"Heya uh (Y/N), what is inside that box?" Sans asks.

"..It's a kitten, they were abandoned in the alleyway so i take them," you gently put the box down.

"I see, I don't mind cats but uhh... Are we going to be able to take care of them?" Sans wanted to help but he was a little bit unsure if he has the ability to take care of the little creature.

"I'm sure we can take care of this kitten. Besides, I cannot just go leave these adorable kittens out there while it's cold and snowing," you told him.

"...Okay, I get it. I'll take some towels in case you need help bathing them," Sans immediately disappear in one second, leaving you to go to the bathroom with the box and take some baby shampoo since the only pet-friendly shampoo are baby shampoo. Even though this is just the start of your journey with Sans with cats, you could tell there will be tons of unexpected stories from the furball.

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Underswap Sans

Another cute animal lover but he is more obvious than Undertale Sans. In my opinion, he prefers cats to dogs since I often see dogs would often steal Undertale Papyrus's special attack and he probably his special attack also often got stolen too.

Underswap Sans definitely also likes to spoil the cat you brought home (as you save the kittens after getting abandoned by their owner).

It is obvious that he spoils the cat rotten because he would cuddle the kitten almost every day, kisses the kitten, and tries to make delicious food for the kitten.

He's just soo affectionate that even the cat got a little bit annoyed with all of his kisses and cuddles whenever the cat wants alone time or me time and Blue was there being too cuddly.

Although you did not let him cook and it's you who is the one who made the food because you know his food is not edible and could endanger the kitten.

Blueberry Sans also definitely going to spoil the kitten by buying tons of cat toys so the kitten can play around with you and him and sometimes you even scold blue for spending too much money on cat toys.

He also spoils the kittens with you with the new cat's bed, scratcher, cat foods either wet foods or dry foods that have high quality, and a litter box.

He loves cats more than dogs but I'm sorry Blue...sometimes cats don't like you because you would invade their personal space and bother them when they want to sleep.

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Inside the glass barriers, a pair of (E/C) eye colors sees one of the short-haired cats with mesmerizing yellow eyes as the furball keeps pawing the glass and trying to get out to greet the person in front of them which is you. You could not help but gushes at the cute sight in front of you.

An old friendly lady struts up to you with a smile on her face, "Do you want to adopt him? His name is Smokey, and he's friendly with everyone including strangers although he can be a little bit of trouble maker by knocking over things," the old woman shows the paper of the grey cat's bio. It was tempting to get the British shorthair cat but hearing that the cat likes to knock over things, made you think twice before moving away.

You might be wondering where are you and why are you looking out for a cat. The answer is really simple, soon is going to be Blueberry Sans's birthday and you want to give something special to Underswap Sans. Undyne has given him a mew mew cutie card edition and Alphys has already given Sans a white shirt with the word 'I am the coolest'.

Those were good gifts and you want to give something even better than them until an idea pops up, a surprise gift where lots of people would totally melt because of the cuteness and you're sure Sans would love the cat totally. Moving to the other cage, it was the most cutest cat you had ever seen. It has long ivory white fur mixed with a long brown coat and it has bright blue eyes.

"Excuse me, who is this fella?" you ask the old lady.

"Oh, you mean Bella? She is a ragdoll mix with Birman and the nicest one in here. She's also recently rescued after their owner abandoned her. Poor kitten," The old woman sighed and shakes her head

"I would like to adopt the kitten, please. She will be a perfect kitten for my boyfriend," You said.

"I see, is your boyfriend a cat lover?" She asks once again.

"He's...not really a cat lover but he really does like animals except dogs since...dogs like to steal something of his," you did not tell the lady that the dog likes to steal his bones since human is still not friendly around monsters.

"Understandable, okay. Just sign this paper up and you're good to take Bella."

There were lots of rules written on the paper when you look at the sheet but with your quick reading skills, your hands grab the pen and signing up the agreement to adopt the little kitten and watched the old woman carefully put the cat inside of the box as well as the bed for the cat and some treats in case if the cat got hungry.

"Here you go, thank you so much for taking the little cat. I hope you have a nice day," she smiles before giving the box to your hand.

"Have a nice day too."

You could not wait to give the adorable furball to your boyfriend and see his reaction once he sees the cat. Papyrus told you that Blue always wants a pet for playing around and cuddling but they did not have the chance in the underground once the monster left the underground, it is the perfect chance to give him one.

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Dancetale Sans

I can see Dance as a cat lover too although he also likes dogs (but he likes cats more than dogs.) so seeing you coming home with cats, there are hearts in his eyes.

He would be gently holding the kitten that you held a few seconds ago in his arms as he gently pats the kitten's head, earning soft meows from the creature.

Just like Undertale Sans, he is going to spoil the little furball but not as bad as blue because he would let the cat sleep or have me time instead of bothering the cat.

Dancetale Sans also going to let the little furball sit on his lap whenever he is sleeping or watching Mettaton shows while his hand gently pats the cat's back.

You might get jealous too because the cat loves him more than you and he would get a little bit smug whenever he sees you getting jealous over your cat's affection.

But once the cat was sitting on your lap and not sitting on him, he would get jealous at you as he silently glare at you for stealing the cat's attention.

Since he can dance, he has more energy than Undertale Sans so he has more time to play with the cat with you too, especially making the cat chase the feather toy as he runs around.

Even though he has a personality almost the same as Undertale Sans. He is surprisingly more strict than Undertale Sans when it comes to punishment as he would punish the cat each time the cat destroy something in the house.

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Near (Y/N) house with Dancetale Sans, there was a small park surrounded by bushes and some playgrounds for children to play around. Usually, monsters and humans would go there to play or just chill around since the park is also close to a small restaurant that usually sells hamburgers, fries, hotdogs, and spicy burritos.

There's a time (Y/N) (L/N) would be too tired or lazy and instead of cooking in the kitchen to make their/her/his own lunch. Today it is decided that you are going to go to Grillby since you're too lazy and tired after a long time of working in the office without any rest. The pathway is quite crowded but everyone seems to not mind this kind of condition.

"It's getting colder. I better go home as fast as I can," you whisper to yourself as you glance up at the sky, feeling chilled to the bone.

"HA! LOOK AT THAT!"

"HAHAHA, WHAT A DUMB CAT!"

There were two unfamiliar sounds that were quite loud from the park but it was not only the sound of kids. There were also sounds of banging and crashing sounds as well as a soft mewling. Your gut was telling you to go to the park as quick as you can before your feet took some pace, trying to see what was going on.

After a long walk, a pair of (E/C) widened in fear, aghast, sadness, and anger with the view that was shown right in front of you. It was several kids with tattered clothes and rocks on their hands but what was the most heartbreaking part is the wounded cat that was buried and only showed half of the body of the cat.

Before you could storm to give a piece of your mind and punish those little brats. Out of nowhere, those children were lifted from the ground as blue light surrounded all of them. It was not a mistake that you knew who's the owner of that kind of power.

"Hey Kiddo, leave the cat alone. It's not cool you're throwing rocks at innocent animals," It was your boyfriend Sans.

"LET ME GO YOU UGLY-LOOKING MONSTER! WE WILL TELL YOUR MOTHER!" One of the kids says.

"Heh, as you wish," Sans shrugs before even lifting them higher and making them fly to the highest tree.

Those children immediately scream louder and order Sans to let them down but Sans did not listen to them at all. He only chuckled a little bit and muttered 'Serves you right, brats." Without realizing you saw the whole scene. Instead of scolding your skeleton boyfriend, you could not help but step closer to him and places your hand on top of his shoulder, making him jump in surprise until he realizes it's you.

"Oh hey, babe. Uhh, did you see everything?' He asks nervously.

"I did but don't worry. Those kids were brats for hurting a kitten. I would do the same to those kids if I were you.

"Heh, glad that we came early to stop the...cat-astrophe~" Dance Sans grins wider, making you roll your eyes.

"You're the worst," you said before coming up to the cat and carefully lifting the cat up from the soil.

"Aww I'm sorry babe. You know I'm just kitten around~ he continued to joke around you.

"Okay, now stop it because I'm serious. Do you think we should give this cat let it by itself or...should we take care of the cat?"

"..It is up to you, babe. But the cat is injured on the left leg and I think those brats manage to hurt the cat. I think it's better we take care of the cat first..."

"...Yeah, you're right. We can bring the cat home first and we will take care of him or her and we will take care of him if no one wants to adopt this little cutie....." You let Sans take the kitten out of your hand as he carefully held the little creature and let the furball sleep in his arms.

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[fondueforall]

🎵You, you got your own opinions. But baby, I don't even need to hear 'em. It used to hurt me, used to bring me down. Do your worst, 'cause nothing's gonna stop me now. Don't let those losers take your magic, baby, yeah. 🎶 (let 'em talk by kesha plays automatically when you go on brittany's blog)

LIMA LOSER? OR IS THAT BRITTANY PIERCE? THEY MIGHT EVEN PASS FOR HUNTER SCHAFER IN THE RIGHT LIGHT. THEY'RE TWENTY-TWO, BUT STILL STUCK IN LIMA AT MCKINLEY. THEY'VE BEEN CALLED THE BLONDE AIRHEAD, BUT PREFER TO BE THE UNICORN. MAYBE IF THEY FIX THEIR AESTHETIC AKA LONG MOMENTS DANCING WITHOUT A CARE WITH THE MUSIC BLARING, GOSSIPING ON ALL THE DIRT OVER A TOO HOT POT OF CHEESE, AND GETTING SWEATY OUT ON THE FIELD IN A TOO SHORT SKIRT AND THE ROLLER RINK WITH THE GIRLS ON SKATES THEY'LL GET THEIR WAY. WORD ON THE SHOW CHOIR BLOGS ARE THEY'RE IN THE TROUBLETONES. SO GOOD LUCK TO THEM!

THE BASICS:

name: brittany susan pierce aka brittany s.pierce. 

nicknames: britt, b, bee, britt-britt.

pronouns: she/her. NOT IT, NOT HE/HIM. thank you.

gender: 🏳️‍⚧️ ♀️

birthday/zodiac: march 14th, pisces.

birthplace: lima, oh.

relationship status: single, but i've kissed just about every member of the senior and junior classes at mckinley.

sexuality: bisexual. 

occupation: host of fondue for two. 

sports/clubs: cheerios, dance, the muckraker, gay/straight alliance, mathletes. also it's not at school, but! i play on the local roller derby team here in lima, we're called the pinup punks. my name there is pierce the blade, i'm the jammer. i also play the drums in a band called high road.

major/minor: journalism and media communication.

languages: english, spanish, asl, and a language i invented in middle school!

social media handles: fonduefortwo professionally everywhere, fondueforbritt everywhere else for my friends.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

height: 5'10'’.

build: ⌛️

eye color: blue.

hair color: blonde, sometimes i clip in fun colors when i'm not in cheerio mode though.

piercings: i have a lot! four on each ear, three on my lobes and one a helix and on the other an industrial. i also have my tongue, nipples, and belly button pierced.

tattoos: i have a rainbow on my wrist, a unicorn on my lower back and a small ufo on my shoulder. a portrait of my amazing feline friend lord tubbington. (someone who is Not brittany typed that in and later brittany removed it)

other distinguishing features: good tits and a big heart. 

style: carefree and fun colors when i'm not in my cheer uniform. i love everything from bold patterns to simple ones.

PERSONALITY/INTERESTS:

traits: i like to think i’m loyal and creative, funny, friendly and pretty adventurous. but i know some people think i’m kind of stubborn and impulsive, probably naive and aloof too. also dumb or an airhead.

likes: to dance, fondue, my cats and the cats at love meow, art, math, performing, taking baths.

dislikes: bullies, being called stupid, ignorant people, conflict, injustice, feeling lonely.

fears: not being good enough or being hurt simply for being who i am.

skills: i can get out of handcuffs easily, bend pretty much my whole body, can put my feet over my head, do complicated math in my head, super good at reading peoples signs and i'm probably a lil psychic.

quirks: super bendy and flexible, does that count? double jointed, i can talk very fast, i do “voice overs”... mostly in my head.

hobbies: drawing, dancing, cheering, interviewing people, listening to true crime podcasts and alien/cryptid conspiracy theories, rollerskating, motocross.

music tastes: anything by kesha and beyonce, but also anything that i can dance to. ♪♫♬

myers-briggs: i did this because it was fun, but i can't remember i think it started with an e?

kinsey scale: 3, i'm equal opportunities.

strengths: i'm majorly talented, especially when it comes to dancing. i think people are surprised by how much i can lift too.. i also got like... an iron stomach, at least that's what my parents tell me. and despite what some people think, i'm pretty smart.

weaknesses: i get lost super easily.

She's the one they made me talk to when they found out I was keeping that bird in my locker.

[sparingiscaring]

For A Secret

Part of the @fallenlondonficswap!

For the General Swap, for @neathyingenue and for @thedandy-detective

I liked the ideas of incorporating cat-catching between a Normal Child and a Very Prissy Kitty, and realized. Oh. I co-own cat just like that with one VERY dandy Detective. Hope you both enjoy!

General : Cats, Urchins, Cat-Catching, Baxter Berkeley (Briefly)

(1968 Words) | AO3 Link

In the outskirts of London, far above the dirty-stained streets of London, an immaculate, perfect creature sat proudly upon her throne, staring down at passerbys with a well-deserved sense of superiority. The Queenly Kitten was royalty, after all, and it was in her blood to sit here, high above the peasant-humans that walked below.

It was tradition to laud herself above the denizens of this wretched city during her bathing time, to lazily listen in on their nonsense-arguments, their love-tyrsts, their shameless physical brawls, all while lapping idly at the glossy fur of her paw. It was entertaining to hear what so concerned those humans so far below, so ignorant to the perfect creature that shone above them like the brightest of False-Stars, like naïve children.

The Kitten purred as she rolled onto her back, burying herself deeper in the cushions of her window-box throne as she licked at a lacre-white leg that stretched towards the sky, that rolling sound emanating from deep within her fluff-hidden chest. She takes great pride in her purrs – no one could force them from her, without giving her proper due.

The Man who lived in the Rooftop Shack, the building her throne attached to, was, unfortunately, currently the only human who treated her with any of the respect she deserved. And so much disrespect that it hardly even mattered!! Her paws instinctively went to her neck, pushing up on the collar, although not truly trying to remove it. The concept of a collar was fine, but this one? One of such poor quality, without even a diamond to show her true value?! And not even the decency to leave the place for a name blank, when the Man had inflicted her with such a humiliating one?

That collar, that name, why she refused to use his own name, ever. Not until he respected her enough to grace her with a proper name.

Rolling again in her cushion-lined box, the Queenly Kitten settled to a rest on her side, stretching out, as if to take up the whole of her bed place. Her perfect jaw opened in a yawn, needle-like teeth glinting in the light of the False-Stars – she was tired, and one so great as her must have her beauty sleep! She wriggled once more, letting her eyes close as she readies herself for sleep. Perhaps the Man would be home then, and have dinner ready for her, by the time she awoke from her nap…

Perhaps she’d even let him pet her, if he washed the dirt from his hands first…

The Queenly Kitten is on the edge of sleep, the first rays of warm light and pampering hands reaching for, when she’s torn from her slumber by a pair of real hands, hands covered with a layer of grit and grime that instantly pulls the Kitten into a screaming yowl! She’s been pulled from her throne! She’s been pulled into the air by the scruff of her neck! UNHAND HER!

“Unhand me!” The Kitten screeches, clawing wildly at the air with the ferocity of a wild beast, all of her perfectly-groomed fur now standing on edge, turning her into a spikey, spitting mess of fluff and rage! However, it’s the fault of her biology that lets none of her murderous blows land, that lets her kitnapper live on – she cannot reach the back of her neck to land a blow! “Unhand me now!”

“In a minute!” It was an unfamiliar voice, childlike and girlish, and the Kitten instinctively bristles further! Not even the Man, or one of his circle of friends! A Stranger had her! A Strange Child!

Unceremoniously, the Kitten feels herself spun around in the air, legs rabbit-kicking uselessly at nothing, as her kidnapper comes into view. An Urchin! A grubby human, holding royalty in her hand like a common street-cat, holding a forgotten fishing pole in her other hand, down at her side. The human is a kitten herself, wide, reflective eyes set in her round face.

The Child grins, her teeth far flatter than the Kitten’s, but all the bigger. A fearsome predator in her own right. “You gotta give me my secret, first!” The Child says, dropping her fishing pole completely, reaching forward, and…

Petting her! Petting the Perfect, Pure, Queenly Kitten, with her soot-smeared hand! Grit! Grime! Muck! The Kitten yowled out pathetically again, so debased by the action!

“No! No, nothing! Nothing for you! I will give you nothing!” Secret?! A SECRET?! Extortion! Extortion!!

“That’s not how this works!” The Girl said cheerily, sitting down against the home of the Man, shifting to hold the wriggling Kitten underneath her armpits. “You’re s’posed to give me a secret for catching you! That’s how cat-catching works!” The Child says it with a knowledgeable superiority, and a fitting, know-it-all grin. “Everybody knows that! Even the baby cats!”

The Child purses her lips, spinning the Kitten around again, examining her from the sides. Pristine white fluff, all marked with grubby fingerprints. The horror! The Audacity of it all! But the Child does not seem to understand the gravity of this situation, instead letting out a giggle. A giggle!

“You don’t even have the excuse of bein’ a baby cat! So, c’mon, give me the secret!”

The Kitten opens her mouth as wide as it will go, and lets out a hiss, her hair prickling up against the Child’s skin. “I will do no such thing! I am not some street cat to be caught!” She’d heard of this game – catch a cat, and it’ll tell you it’s secret, in return for being let go. A barbaric practice! And on the Queenly Kitten had thought she’d never experience firsthand, being so far above it all…

Eyes narrowed, and another hiss escaped the Kitten’s maw. Of course some little human kitten had been the one to find her! And to catch her napping! The indignity of it all! “I am a proper housecat! Now let me go, before I must take drastic measures!”

The Child blinked. Her pupils are so big, so dark and reflective, that the Kitten can see her own reflection in them. “You’re still a cat, though.” The Child observes astutely, touching the tip of the cat’s triagular ear to prove its reality – the Kitten flicks it away before it even make contact. “Or at least, close ‘nough.” She thought on it for a moment, then shrugged. “So, secret? Or else I’ll have to get you a leash, until you do, and I dunno know to make a leash. Or maybe I can put you in m’ pocket, and carry you around, until you tell-”

“What’s going on here?”

THE MAN! He had returned, he had returned, he had returned from… from… job, maybe? Did he even have a job? Was the Queenly Kitten living with a mooch?

IT DIDN’T MATTER! HE WAS BACK!

“Please help!” She yowled out in distress, squirming anew! “Save me!”

The Man looked confused, as he always did! But before the Kitten could please for safety, the Child clasped a grubby hand over her muzzle, pulling the kitten to her lap. Why was a human kit so strong?!

“Is this your kitty?” The little girl asked, staring up at the Man with a big grin. “I’m s’posed to be stealing people’s hats ‘n things, but I wanna play with her instead! Can I, pleeeeeeeeease?”

The Man shrugged, not a care in the world. “Alright. Fluffles, don’t bite her.”

And then he walked into his home, and closed the door.

For her part, the Queenly Kitten was too shocked at her utter mistreatment to even bite the Child. Limp, like a wet weasel, in the child’s grip, as the hand was removed from her muzzle, and took to petting the soft fluff of the furball.

“Your name is Fluffles?” The Child asked, her nose crinkling up with a withheld giggle! One hand went to the collar, but what for..?

Oh no.

The Full Name.

The Kitten rocketed out of the girl’s hands, but it was too late. She had seen. And the laughter…

“Miss Fluffles Truffles?!” The girl asked, her face going red as she struggled to breathe from laughing. “ Like Fluffy? And Truffles?! Like the things pigs find?! You’ve got a piggy name! Piggy kitty! Piggy Kitty!!”

This, the Kitten realized, is what Devils looked like as kits.

Even though she was free, there was no reason to run. Not anymore. The Queenly Kitten’s life was positively ruined, and there was no coming back from this embarrassment. Her fur was dirty and sticking up at all angles, her name was being belted out to any that could hear it in fits of side-clutching laughter, and this child had called her… called her a pig. Swine.

But… she was the Queenly Kitten after all. She was better than that child. Better than her owner. Better than everyone. This was a problem, yes, but one as immaculate as her would not falter at such a challenge!

The Queenly Kitten sat down a few feet away from the child, and gave herself a quick once-over with her tongue, smoothing down errant spikes, and taking off as much of the dirt and grime as she could easily reach, taking particular care to smooth down her cheeks with a well-placed flick of her paw. She was better than this! She was perfect!

Chest fur puffed out as the Kitten straightened her posture, rising to stand proud, like the tigers of the Elder Continent she’d heard street-cats gossip about, like the great lions that roamed every speck of land of the surface above (probably)!

Her footwork was precise, even, and perfect, as she stalked back to the Child, still up against that wall, still laughing like a fool.

“It’s not a very good secret if you yell it.” She said with supreme authority, turning her muzzle up at the ill-made attempt at secret-keeping. “For one so knowledgeable on cat-catching, you’re rather terrible at it.” No one could prove she’d not intended to share it! It was genius. Brilliant. Just like her.

“That’s no secret! It’s right on your collar!”

Oh. That wasn’t grand.

The Kitten settled back onto her haunches again, another flurry of licks to her chest to smooth the natural-fluffing of it at such a challenge to her dignity and honor. She would be composed! She would be composed, and prove her lie, and leave this child humiliated! She would reign supreme! The Queenly Kitten would win, and avenge the loss of her respect in this strange kit’s eyes!

“You know the rules,” The Kitten chastises, her perfect tail flicking in time behind her head, left, right, left, right. Like a metronome, one used by a proper musician! An artiste, just like her! (Or so the Man said, when she’d drag whatever food she’d been given all over the kitchen.) “Catch a cat, and in exchange for their secret, you let them go. I just happened to be clever enough to put my secret in the perfect place, so only those who catch me see it!”

The tail flicked out to the left and did not move. “Now, off you go, child! I have a nap to get to, you know!” Irritation rose into her formerly-composed voice, a clear strain that bled into a hiss. “Continue your thievery of the people below in peace, and perhaps I’ll refrain of clawing you the next time dare cross my path.”

Perfect. It’s going perfect. The Kitten raises a paw to her mouth, and licks the underside, flexing her claws in a display of dominance, just as she always was meant to.

Instead of yowling, this time she just sighed at the Child scruffed her, one more dangling helplessly from a grubby hand.

“That secret’s dumb. Gimme another.”

[yyadream]

Olivier showing her new henchmen, Mona Lisa, around the Hidden City. When they were being cat called by the Mud Dogs.

Mona: Even here, los hombres siguen siendo puercos. I think we should just ignore them. *Mens are still pigs*

Olivier: Not to worry, I know how to handle these type. Excuse me, what’s all this noise?

Mona: Dios mio, she’s going to provoke them. *my god*

Loathsome Leonard: mmm baby, you and your friends are a whole lot of women? We know what you ladies need.

Rebel: I don’t think you’re the type of guy that can give it to us.

Mona: You too, Rebel.

Olivier: I do believe you guys need to apologize to us.

Dastardly Danny: Apologies, you ladies should take it as a compliment.

Olivier smirked: Just as I expected, do you like my nails?

Olivier grabbed Dastardly Danny balls before he could respond.

Mona: This diablo, will be the death of us.

Olivier: Oh silly me, I never caught your name?

Dastardly Danny out of breath: It’s Dastardly Danny!

Olivier: Well Dastardly Danny, I’m lady Olivier, this is Miss Mona and Miss Rebel. Now Danny, when you encounter such lovely ladies the correct way to greet them is to say “good afternoon, ladies.” Can you say that?

Dastardly Danny manhood was aggressively squeezed: Good afternoon, ladies.

Olivier: Unless of course it’s the evening, you said?

Dastardly Danny continues to be squeezed aggressively: Good evening, ladies.

Olivier: Good, now go home, take a bath, comb your hair, and please put on a clean outfit when you step outside your door. It’s an affront to the very delicacy of my nature. That goes for the rest of you lots. The next time you disrespect any ladies, you’ll have to deal with me in the Battle Nexus. Do you understand?

Loathsome Leonard and Malicious Mickey: Yes, Ma’am!

Olivier: Ladies, let us continue our tour.

Mona: This is going to be fun.

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 1.4.24

Dream 1 (which I woke up from) MN told me to go on my break. I think I politely refused or didn't show any signs that I was making moves to go, since it was a little too early in my book for lunch. But then he mentioned it again, gently, Go on break Kath, so you can come back early.

Dream 2 I had a dream where I was your HS. There energy was not me anymore, but you. The energy was always what I've sensed as being you, but I had never known it consciously. There was no denying that I was seeing things from your energetic viewpoint but behind that, the awareness that looks on over everything (and what lies behind my own HS) was the same. I remember how it felt to be your HS and less about what actually happened. I think you had cracked. You were in the chat and you were angry, but it wasn't exactly anger, it was a type of cracking. Of letting go. I think Mort had said something. Or somebody had said something, and there were no more masks. You challenged him/them but also it was not a challenge, it was being real. The realest that anyone can ever be, but saturated with mania and madness and letting go of confines and giving birth to something, that cannot ever be reigned back in. Your HS was power, terror and an unleashing. It was very strong energy and this is the best I can do to describe it. All I know is that you cracked and it neither good nor bad, it just was. (I think this is probably the frustration going on behind the scenes with ppl being slow af)

Dream 3 I was at school and the next class was swimming class, which meant we had to travel by bus to the swimming pool. I didn't really want to go, it was too much effort. At the same time, I didn't mind going as long as AL would be there. So I asked her, Are you going to go? She said, No. But then after few moments she said, Yes but it won't do anything for me, I don't want to go but I will, only because it will pass the time and then I will be able to go home and be tired and I'll go to sleep and I'll be able to meet Bobby (her cat) 'there'. (I get the feeling that my HS meant one of her cats that have passed away that also has a B name, because the sense is that she will be able to meet them in heaven/the astral).

Now I'm in the change room of the swimming pool and putting my bathers on. I wasn't sure what to wear. And instead of putting on the appropriate swim wear for what it is I'm about to partake in, I am trying to decide on what regular outdoor outfit to wear. I keep taking my clothes on and off, looking in the mirror and trying to make the outfit 'feel' right. Eventually I had on a midriff top and cut-off shorts. I was thinking about changing the top from a plainer one, to one that was magenta pink because AL said it looked better. Also, it would match the aesthetic of what other people seemed to be wearing.

Then that scene disappears and I am standing in a full piece swimsuit that looks more like wet suit than anything. It was not fashionable at all. The area beyond my knees and elbows was where skin showed. It was in the same colour as the top from the previous scene, hot pink. There were buckles to keep the wet suit in place at my thighs, but I didn't do them up yet. Then I met some chick who was being weird and a little rude to me. I can't remember what she said, only that she had on the same bathing suit as I. When I walked out of the change room and saw AL, she said that I lost weight. I could see it too, the ribs of my chest more pronounced than before.

Then we went swimming. But it turns into being my sister and I having a bath inside of our house. I think we are children again. We seem to be wearing swimsuits, while having this bath. My mum kept calling us to finish already and come out. The first time, I ignored her and same goes for the second time. I was just in that world and did not want to be disrupted. And then the third time, I heard her voice more clearly somehow and that was the time I decided to listen and leave the bathroom. When I got into the living room, it looked like there had been a party in our house, unbeknownst to my sister and I. But I think we did know, just did not want to. People were sitting on the couch opening presents and my mum said, Why did you ignore me, you said you would get changed and come out immediately, you were suppose to attend the party and now it's almost over. Her friends, or maybe it's her siblings, they all look at me and don't say anything. I barely feel any disdain in the air, it's just whatever, at least we're here now. I get the impression that SM and his gf were invited to this party but since he knew I would be there, he didn't come. They made an excuse to avoid it.

[projectbluearcadia]

Forgive? Forget? Haha, I Wish.

[ Trigger Warning - Severe overreaction to dark humor

Reader Discretion Advised ]

Mammon: This pipsqueak is the human we’re supposed to be protecting?

Lizzy: Hol’ up. Pipsqueak? Seriously?

Annelie: Well, you are shorter than me. 

Lizzy: Hushshsh. We don’t talk about that.   

Annelie: That said, Mammary, her name is Elizabeth, so please use it. 

Mammon: I’m going to call her Zabeth ‘cause that sounds cooler.

Lizzy: Uh... haven’t heard that one before. 

Annelie: Well, it’s better than his nickname for me. Levi, Satan, pay attention. 

Levi: But she’s a normie. 

Satan: Do I have to?

Lucifer: Honestly, you’re all acting like children... Belphie, I know you just got back, but stop sleeping. 

Belphie: Zzzzmnghs... 

Beel: He says he’ll be back in ten minutes. 

Annelie: You could understand that?

Lizzy: Isn’t the bigger question why he’s on the floor in a maid costume? I mean no judging anyways, but it smells fruity up in dis house. 

Lucifer: What? Fruity?

Annelie: Punishment I guess? Dia was trying to be creative, but after a while, I think Belphie just got used to it and was too lazy to take it off when he came home yesterday. 

Lizzy: Punishment?

Annelie: Non-sexual, to clarify. 

Lizzy: That didn’t even cross my mind. Pervert. 

Annelie: Well, anyway, the oldest here is Lucifer. He’s stressed 24/7, so please don’t bother him.  Second-born is Mammon. Don’t leave your money near him. Leviathan, will only talk about games, anime, manga, TSL, etcetera. Satan, will help you with your math homework if you ask really nicely. Asmodeus, who is currently in a bath towel why?

Asmo: Well, I would have dried off and did my hair and nails and skin if someone hadn’t rushed me out!

Asmo glares at Lucifer.

Annelie: Well, anyway, ask him about anything beauty-related. Beelzebub, very sweet and can be bribed with food for pretty much anything. Belphegor, basically sleeping beauty, wouldn’t ask him for anything unless you’ve got no one else to turn to. 

Belphie flips Annelie off in his sleep. 

Annelie: You’re such a brat, you know that?

Belphie smirks. 

Lucifer: I can smack him for you. 

Annelie: Why? That’s just how he normally is around me. One day he’ll be using my feet as pillows and the next he’ll be hitting me with backhanded compliments. I swear to Diavolo he’s a damn cat. 

Lucifer: And yet you like cats. 

Annelie: Actual cats preferably. Although Satan is a very cute cat. 

Satan flushes. 

Lucifer: He’s only cute when he’s sleeping. 

Satan: Oi!

Lizzy: Are we just ignoring the fact that half of Lucifer and Satan and Beelzebub are literally the same person? And what’s with the nameless—no offense, Simeon—angel? 

Lizzy points to Simeon even as Annelie bustles over to Satan to calm him down. 

Lizzy: Where’s Michael and Samael and all those guys? Also, what happened to the spinning wheels and masses of eyes? I really wanted to see those.

Simeon softly chuckles.

Simeon: It’s a lot less fun that way though. As far as Michael goes... he’s a bit busy right now, and I’m not too sure about who Samael is supposed to be, but I’m sure he’s a lovely person. 

Lucifer: Well, in any case, since Annelie’s has taken my job from me, I’ll take hers. She’s the head of the Human-Demon Relations Agency, and Solomon, whom you will be sharing a dorm with, will be monitoring the school according to her regulations. 

Lizzy: OOF imma die. 

Lucifer: Why? 

Lizzy: I mean Anne doesn’t really care about me, soooo~ 

Annelie stops in place as LIzzy makes a flippant head-cutting motion and sticks out her tongue pretending to be dead. 

I don’t care? Are you fucking kidding me right now? No, you never are, because you never thought I cared through all of those years. 

The brothers stir. 

Lucifer: Elizabeth, if you choose to make comments like that, please make it absolutely clear that you’re joking. 

Lizzy: Wow, look at you being all threatening. Way to reinforce that male dominance thing. 

Lucifer glances at her, and she steps backwards. 

Lucifer: I won’t say it a second time. 

Lizzy: ...jesus, I was joking! Excuse me! 

You weren’t joking. Unfortunately, I know you way too well. 

Simeon: Lizzy, I don’t think Annelie thought it was a joke.  

Annelie: It’s fine. Did you have any questions?

Lizzy: ...

Lizzy steps backward further. 

Annelie: What? 

Lizzy: Why are you... all glaring at me? What’d I do?

Annelie: Nothing. Guys, knock it off. 

The brothers begin to settle with the exception of Lucifer, who knocks a pencil off of the mantlepiece. 

Annelie: Lucifer, I didn’t mean that literally. 

Lucifer: Be more specific then. 

I have a feeling he’s going to make me spill my guts on me and LIzzy the second we’re alone together... 

Lucifer: Do you have any questions for us? If not, then join us for dinner.

He’s just going to brute force it, isn’t he?

Annelie: We’re not going to cook you, before you ask. 

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 8: TYSON LEADS A JAILBREAK

Jason squinted down at the new chapter title like there was Mist obscuring it. The words made less sense the longer he stared. "Tyson leads, Tyson leads a- Percy what the hell did you get him into?"

"Tyson leads a what?" Alex demanded, looking very close to strangling Jason already for even hinting at teasing him.

Thalia leaned over his shoulder to finish, "Tyson Leads a Jailbreak? Yeah, no, I'm on Jason's side, you're a bad influence on that kid. Do we need to have another custody battle?"

"Tyson beat up cows and Canadians just fine without me telling him to do so," Percy crossed his arms, he looked almost proud as he leveled a look at Thalia. "I'm sure whatever this is was a great moment in history, revolutionary, and my little brother is helping, erm, the masses not be oppressed anymore or something. And I will bribe a jury to keep him full-time Thalia!"

"Because that's the right way to win a kid," Will stage whispered while Nico snickered in surprise beside him.

Thalia and Percy began actually bickering who would be a better influence on him though, and Magnus looked on in concern for several moments. "I think I liked it better when Percy kept rolling his eyes and wanted to ignore the chapter titles," he admitted to Alex.

"Are you kidding? This is world class entertainment! If we play our cards right, we might start World War III right here!" Alex was definitely placing bets in his head.

Jason finally had to give an almighty throat clearing and a stern look at the pair. He was pretty good at that when he shut off those questions and actually tried to be serious, like he had experience getting wily kids together. "No offense Thalia, but I think Percy wins by default, Tyson's old enough to get a say and he's going to pick Percy."

Percy not-so-silently cheered. "Now, on with the show?"

"Fine," Thalia huffed, "but I still insist nature spirits don't count and Artemis would consider letting me train him."

"Get your own little brother," Percy smirked before sticking his tongue out at her.

Thalia smiled like a good sport as her secret little brother she hadn't told anybody about finally started reading and she fought back tears for everything she'd done wrong regarding him. She was starting to get worried if she kept this bottled up much longer she'd do something drastic, like try to bathe a cat just to get some kind of battle out of her system.

She knew she should tell Percy at least, he wouldn't bat an eye at the multitude of problems that would arise when he found out she planned on murdering a god for what they'd done, but she wanted to give her friend a chance to breathe first. Get his memories back, actually have a chance at some normalcy back at camp with Annabeth before he got into this while she figured out details, so until then, she'd wait.

The good news: the left tunnel was straight with no side exits, twists, or turns.

"I'd actually prefer it if there were though, if something big is chasing me," Magnus said skittishly. "If you're smaller, you can take the turns that'll slow whatever's chasing you down."

"But we could also look over our shoulder and be vaguely comforted we couldn't see it yet instead of thinking it's just behind that corner," Percy said in his attempt at a wise voice.

"Yeah, man, that's, that's not better than an actual good reason," Magnus frowned in concern how this guy was alive, as usual.

The bad news; it was a dead end.

"The kind of news that trumps any good news anyways," Thalia said in fair compensation, to which neither of them disagreed.

After sprinting a hundred yards, we ran into an enormous boulder that completely blocked our path. Behind us, the sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoed down the corridor. Something—definitely not human—was on our tail.

"Tyson," I said, "can you—"

"Yes!" He slammed his shoulder against the rock so hard the whole tunnel shook. Dust trickled from the stone ceiling.

"Hurry!" Grover said. "Don't bring the roof down, but hurry!"

"Grover's sure asking a lot of him right then," Alex pouted, "multitasking ain't that easy."

"And Tyson's not even ADHD," Percy agreed.

The boulder finally gave way with a horrible grinding noise. Tyson pushed it into a small room and we dashed through behind it.

"Close the entrance!" Annabeth said.

"Bossy, bossy," Alex huffed one more time.

"Someone's got to give the orders in those kinds of situations or everyone would run around in chaos," Jason reminded.

Alex was more of a deadly, solo, ninja assassin though if he'd ever stop wearing the brightest stinking colors, so nobody was surprised when he rolled his eyes at Jason.

We all got on the other side of the boulder and pushed.

"Teamwork makes the dream work though," Alex laughingly approved. "I knew you guys could move any problem if you just put enough brute force into it."

"If Alex suggests we just throw rocks at the next monster to kill it, I want you all as witnesses to prove it was justified to see I threw a rock at him first to prove why that wouldn't work," Percy chuckled.

Thalia flicked him in the forehead and fought off a laugh. "See, this is why Tyson should hang around me more, he gets all his violent ideas from you!"

"I resemble that remark," Percy agreed casually.

"I'm assuming he doesn't actually mean resent?" Magnus muttered.

"He does not," Alex agreed without concern.

Whatever was chasing us wailed in frustration as we heaved the rock back into placed and sealed the corridor.

"We trapped it," I said.

"Or trapped ourselves," Grover said.

I turned. We were in a twenty-foot-square cement room and the opposite wall was covered with metal bars. We'd tunneled straight into a cell.

Will let out a long, tragic whistle. "What in Hades did that mortal do to deserve getting a cell next to a literal hellish pit? Can you imagine that poor inmate lying awake at night, hearing any number of things through that wall, and yet being so desperate to escape and chance going in?"

"Or, on the flip side, monsters keep getting into just that cell to eat whoever's in there and going back to the labyrinth, so the prison just accepts that as the black hole cell and throws the ones in there they hope will vanish," Alex offered.

"Is it possible? Did Percy finally stumble across a place you're not going to try to vacation to?" Magnus asked him with a smidge of hope.

"Are you nuts? This is easily in the top five places I need to know every detail of!" Alex looked at him in hurt he'd assume otherwise.

"Yeah, should have seen that coming," Magnus sighed in resignation. The real question would be what would Alex get arrested for to get sent there.

"What in Hades?" Annabeth tugged on the bars. They didn't budge.

"Confirmed, Annabeth does not have super strength," Jason nodded to himself like he was compiling a mental list.

"Was that really something you were holding out for?" Percy asked with mild curiosity.

"Can't automatically disqualify it after she held the sky so long. I'm now marking that as strength of character," Jason shrugged.

Through the bars we could see rows of cells in a ring around a dark courtyard—at least three stories of metal doors and metal catwalks.

"A prison," I said. "Maybe Tyson can break—"

"Shh," said Grover. "Listen."

"I would almost rather not, though," Magnus admitted. He'd had to imagine all the time what prison sounded like and wasn't looking for any more descriptors.

"It, uh, it wasn't," but Percy didn't know how to answer that, other than just saying it sounded very weird. Like someone was trying to speak with construction equipment.

Somewhere above us, deep sobbing echoed through the building. There was another sound, too—a raspy voice muttering something that I couldn't make out. The words were strange, like rocks in a tumbler.

"What's that language?" I whispered.

Tyson's eye widened. "Can't be."

"I never considered Tyson might know a second language and that's why he's so minimal in English," Alex said in fascination.

"Do monsters get their own language?" Magnus asked awkwardly. What the heck was going on? Were they even in a mortal prison, or had the labyrinth dumped them out in some hellish monster prison?

"As far as I know, it's a pretty universal kill Percy Jackson language," Percy shrugged, but the look of intense surprise on Tyson's face made him nowhere near downplaying something was up.

"What?" I asked.

He grabbed two bars on our cell door and bent them wide enough for even a Cyclops to slip through.

"So is Tyson jailbreaking himself? That's not something anybody can be upset about," Will was only mock confused, but the slight notes of dread in his voice weren't fake. He was not looking forward to Kampê being described in vivid detail. He still had nightmares about her.

"Wait!" Grover called.

But Tyson wasn't about to wait. We ran after him.

"No easy task I imagine," Jason mock saluted him.

"Yeah, he's weirdly fast, must be all that peanut butter," Percy agreed.

The prison was dark, only a few dim fluorescent lights flickering above.

"I don't think it's an active prison?" Magnus said in surprise. Surely somebody else would have been spotted by now. That just made it creepier though, now he was wondering when the vengeful spirits were going to show up. He still hadn't ruled out monsters were lurking about and the cells were just for show.

"I know this place," Annabeth told me. "This is Alcatraz."

"Fascinating," Alex yelped.

"Growing less surprised by the second the labyrinth dropped you off there," Nico muttered while fiddling with his figurine.

"You mean that island near San Francisco?"

She nodded. "My school took a field trip here. It's like a museum."

"What the hell do they sell in that gift shop?" Magnus spluttered.

"I swear if it's jumpsuits and space food I'll move in," Alex snickered.

It didn't seem possible that we could've popped out of the Labyrinth on the other side of the country,

"Like, seriously, where was this magic path the last two bloody times you needed it," Jason agreed with Percy's very put out look.

"I'm sure if we tried to take the exact same route we'd end up popping out in the South Poll," Percy grumbled at all of his luck.

but Annabeth had been living in San Francisco all year, keeping an eye on Mount Tamalpais just across the bay. She probably knew what she was talking about.

"I just assume that in general," Will nodded. "If she started babbling on about brain surgery or rocket science I'd take her at word."

Nico repressed the urge to gag that literally everybody but him was in love with this girl.

"Freeze," Grover warned.

But Tyson kept going. Grover grabbed his arm and pulled him back with all his strength.

"Did that cause a sequel of the flying shoes?" Thalia asked in concern and admiration at Grover trying so hard. He was all heart, a true protector, even with someone he wasn't fond of.

"He would have fallen if Tyson hadn't actually stopped to catch him," Percy agreed. "I think it would have been easier to pull on the anchor of a cruise ship, but that's Grover for you."

"Stop, Tyson!" he whispered. "Can't you see it?"

I looked where he was pointing, and my stomach did a somersault. On the second-floor balcony, across the courtyard, was a monster more horrible than anything I'd ever seen before.

"Which is really saying a lot when you've met, how many monsters now?" Magnus preemptively put his hand on his stomach to hold it in place for what he might be about to hear.

"Not even a fraction of all of them," Thalia shook her head in sorrow she couldn't promise this would get any better over time.

It was sort of like a centaur, with a woman's body from the waist up. But instead of a horse's lower body, it had the body of a dragon—at least twenty feet long, black and scaly with enormous claws and a barbed tail. Her legs looked like they were tangled in vines, but then I realized they were sprouting snakes, hundreds of vipers darting around, constantly looking for something to bite. The woman's hair was also made of snakes, like Medusa's. Weirdest of all, around her waist, where the woman part met the dragon part, her skin bubbled and morphed, occasionally producing the heads of animals—a vicious wolf, a bear, a lion, as if she were wearing a belt of ever-changing creatures. I got the feeling I was looking at something half formed, a monster so old it was from the beginning of time, before shapes had been fully defined.

"That is the coolest stinking thing I've ever heard of," Alex said slowly, clearly savoring each word.

"How, do you kill, that?" Magnus looked sickened such a thing like shapes even existed now.

"She's how I'd have imagined the mother of all monsters if you hadn't described Echidna already," Jason admitted. "A little bit of everything."

"You guys have no idea how lucky you are just to be hearing about this thing," Percy sighed. She was the kind of monster that made him fleetingly wonder if he was going to wet himself and not care if he'd feel that liquid.

Will's breath came out sharp, the sounds of screams and the smell of that poison and the looks of fright and pain still on faces covered in shrouds coming all to easily back to mind as he fought off a shiver. Nico placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, waiting to be shrugged off, or for Will to scream in fright at the death kid touching him right now.

To his surprise, the opposite happened. Will relaxed under his touch, one last shake of his head, and then he smiled at him. It was a small, tired one, but he mouthed thank you like he'd needed that moment to be grounded. Nico slowly drew his hand back all the same, examining it carefully to make sure he hadn't grabbed a skeleton hand by mistake just in case. Nope. There was that scar on the pad of his thumb from the first time he'd handled his sword. It had been real.

"It's her," Tyson whimpered.

"Get down!" Grover said.

We crouched in the shadows, but the monster wasn't paying us any attention. It seemed to be talking to someone inside a cell on the second floor. That's where the sobbing was coming from. The dragon woman said something in her weird rumbling language.

"What's she saying?" I muttered. "What's that language?"

"The tongue of the old times." Tyson shivered. "What Mother Earth spoke to Titans and...her other children. Before the gods."

"You understand it?" I asked. "Can you translate?"

Tyson closed his eyes and began to speak in a horrible, raspy woman's voice. "You will work for the master or suffer."

"Is Tyson a human translator? Cyclops translator?" Jason asked, always pleasantly surprised to find out more things no matter how persistent that nagging voice in his head was still saying all this time later this wasn't normal.

Percy was clearly puzzled by the question, obviously never having asked, so Nico offered, "as far as I know it ties into that whole voice mimicry they can do. If the person whose voice they plucked it from can speak it, so can they."

"That is so stinking cool!" Jason and Percy both cheered.

Annabeth shuddered. "I hate it when he does that."

Percy looked chagrined while Thalia gave him an understanding nod. Annabeth was allowed to be excused from thinking that was cool after what she'd been through, and Percy had a tendency to forget because Tyson was his daily Cyclops reminder instead of her nightmares.

Like all Cyclopes, Tyson had superhuman hearing and an uncanny ability to mimic voices. It was almost like he entered a trance when he spoke in other voices.

"I will not serve," Tyson said in a deep, wounded voice.

He switched to the monster's voice: "Then I shall enjoy your pain, Briares." Tyson faltered when he said that name. I'd never heard him break character when he was mimicking somebody, but he let out a strangled gulp.

Then he continued in the monster's voice. "If you thought your first imprisonment was unbearable, you have yet to feel true torment. Think on this until I return."

"You've only seen him do that once," Thalia gave him a bit of a judgmental eyebrow. "I'm actually quite pleased to know they can be shocked out of doing that trance." Much like Annabeth, she found that distasteful even being used on their side considering it had once been done to her.

"Who's Briares?" Jason cut into the uneasy silence that followed. "I, um, didn't realize Tyson had other friends besides you." A prison isn't the nicest place to have a sleepover, but it was even more awkward to realize Tyson might have been homeless before when there might have been some monster friend with plenty of space he could have been staying.

"I have no idea," Percy didn't sound to thrilled about the idea either. Prison break, the chapter title had promised, like Briares was stuck there and Tyson was going to help get him out. What the heck was a monster so old and powerful going to be like he needed help?

The dragon lady tromped toward the stairwell, vipers hissing around her legs like grass skirts. She spread wings that I hadn't noticed before—huge bat wings she kept folded against her dragon back. She leaped off the catwalk and soared across the courtyard. We crouched lower in the shadows.

A hot sulfurous wind blasted my face as the monster flew over. Then she disappeared around the corner.

"H-h-horrible," Grover said. "I've never smelled any monster that strong."

"Cyclopes' worst nightmare," Tyson murmured. "Kampê."

"Like a canopy?" Magnus was sure he'd heard wrong. "That sounds way to relaxing and nice to be translated right."

"I'm not making it up!" Jason promised.

"Who?" I asked.

Tyson swallowed. "Every Cyclops knows about her. Stories about her scare us when we're babies. She was our jailer in the bad years."

Percy frowned and swallowed a tight throat. He'd never asked about Tyson's mom, how long he'd been homeless before they found each other. Like with Annabeth, Percy worried it wasn't the best circumstances.

That bit also made him a tad grateful his mom never tried to give him bedtime stories, he was to restless a child. He vaguely recalled her singing her favorite songs to him instead, and wondered if he could get a recording sometime so Tyson could fall asleep listening to that instead of stories about the worst jailer of all time.

Annabeth nodded. "I remember now. When the Titans ruled, they imprisoned Gaea and Ouranos's earlier children—the Cyclopes and the Hekatonkheires."

"Can they not just be called heck-spawn? That's so much easier to pronounce," Percy sighed.

"Oh come on Percy, it's not that bad after you learned in school how to pronounce deoxyribonucleic acid," Will said bracingly.

"And now you're putting way to much faith in my education," Percy scoffed.

"The Heka-what?" I asked.

"The Hundred-Handed Ones," she said. "They called them that because...well, they had a hundred hands.

"The Greeks really didn't go out of their way to get creative with these names huh?" Alex said tragically.

"I'm, um, not complaining. Better than calling them the toe-to-head devourers or something," Magnus was definitely not wrapping his head around that right though. Were all the hands going to sprout out of his arms? Was he going to be a giant hand made of hands? Did that mean they were all thumbs and clumsy?

They were elder brothers of the Cyclopes."

"Looks like Percy's got some competition!" Magnus chuckled.

"Bet I'll win!" Percy said at once.

"It's okay guys, Tyson can have all the big siblings he wants, no need to fuss," Thalia mock playacted just because she was really tired of this being discussed.

Percy opened his mouth, a challenge on his tongue Thalia was just trying to move on from this because she didn't think she'd win, but he really saw her. The exhaustion in her eyes, the way she held herself like they were discussing Luke. Something about Tyson was really bothering her right now, and like Annabeth, he did forget her bad experience with them. So he quickly waved Jason on, but he kept watching her, and noticed how she didn't quite seem to want to watch Jason either.

"Very powerful," Tyson said. "Wonderful! As tall as the sky. So strong they could break mountains!"

"Cool," I said. "Unless you're a mountain."

"Might be cool for the mountains," Alex grinned. "I quite admire monsters that can break me."

"Only you Alex," Percy told him without surprise.

"Kampê was the jailer," he said. "She worked for Kronos. She kept our brothers locked up in Tartarus, tortured them always, until Zeus came. He killed Kampê and freed Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones to help fight against the Titans in the big war."

"And now Kampê is back," I said.

"Bad," Tyson summed up.

"I swear we could just plaster that as the chapter title and it would always be relevant," Nico muttered.

"So who's in that cell?" I asked. "You said a name—"

"Briares!" Tyson perked up. "He is a Hundred-Handed One. They are as tall as the sky and—"

"Yeah," I said. "They break mountains."

I looked up at the cells above us, wondering how something as tall as the sky could fit in a tiny cell, and why he was crying.

"Hopefully it's just a minor inconvenience, like his warden forgot to put a mint on his pillow," Jason said with an odd look at Percy. It seemed pretty obvious anybody would be crying to be in these circumstances. They were all holding it together by willpower and sarcasm.

"I guess we should check it out," Annabeth said, "before Kampê comes back."

"And that's why the child of wisdom is leading this charge," Alex snorted. "I'd rather wait until Kampê came back to do this properly!"

"You would," Nico said, never entirely sure how much Alex was kidding about that.

As we approached the cell, the weeping got louder.

"Do you expect noises to get quieter the closer you get to them?" Will asked in concern.

"I don't know, I've never tried being quiet at anything," Percy shrugged.

When I first saw the creature inside, I wasn't sure what I was looking at. He was human-size and his skin was very pale, the color of milk. He wore a loincloth like a big diaper. His feet seemed too big for his body, with cracked dirty toenails, eight toes on each foot. But the top half of his body was the weird part. He made Janus look downright normal. His chest sprouted more arms than I could count, in rows, all around his body. The arms looked like normal arms, but there were so many of them, all tangled together, that his chest looked kind of like a forkful of spaghetti somebody had twirled together. Several of his hands were covering his face as he sobbed.

"That guy, is very cool," Alex instantly decided.

"Helps he might not kill you upon first meeting you," Magnus agreed, though he was still reserving a scream for that in case they got double-crossed.

"Either the sky isn't as tall as it used to be," I muttered, "or he's short."

"Mist manipulation?" Jason offered awkwardly.

"Or he didn't get Ouranos's genes," Percy snorted.

Thalia rolled her eyes at the pair of them again, so at least that was still normal.

Tyson didn't pay any attention. He fell to his knees.

"Briares!" he called.

The sobbing stopped.

"Great Hundred-Handed One!" Tyson said. "Help us!"

Briars looked up. His face was long and sad, with a crooked nose and bad teeth. He had deep brown eyes—I mean completely brown with no whites or black pupils, like eyes formed out of clay.

Jason gave an impressed whistle.

"That's what impressed you?" Percy yelped. "You weren't even phased by the arms, but his eyes?"

"Eyes are the window to the soul Percy, and that just sounded cooler than spaghetti arms," he chuckled. His blue eyes flashed a familiar, cocky kind of way when he mocked him that nagged at Percy's mind for a moment.

"Run while you can, Cyclops," Briares said miserably. "I cannot even help myself."

"Yeah, why is that exactly?" Magnus stage whispered. "He doesn't exactly sound pinned down."

"Sometimes your head can be prison enough," Nico murmured sullenly. If Magnus hadn't seen his lips move, he wouldn't have been entirely sure he spoke at all. Magnus swallowed a sharp, bitter feeling on his tongue of understanding and didn't press farther.

"Sounds to me like he just needs a helping hand," Percy said casually and then even laughed at his own pun, so the others just rolled their eyes at him and moved on.

"You are a Hundred-Handed One!" Tyson insisted. "You can do anything!"

Briars wiped his nose with five or six hands. Several others were fidgeting with little pieces of metal and wood from a broken bed, the way Tyson always played with spare parts. It was amazing to watch. The hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They built a toy boat out of wood, then disassembled it just as fast. Other hands were scratching at the cement floor for no apparent reason. Others were playing rock, paper, scissors. A few others were making ducky and doggie shadow puppets against the wall.

"I feel like trying to watch him sign would give me a headache," Magnus seemed fascinated how he was able to function all of those fingers at once. He did good to walk and have a conversation without tripping.

"Like trying to listen to a song at mock ten speed, he'd just bang out everything at once," Alex agreed, but he sounded more impressed. He was probably imagining punching 98 people at once and giving himself a high-five.

"I cannot," Briares moaned. "Kampê is back! The Titans will rise and throw us back into Tartarus."

"Put on your brave face!" Tyson said.

Immediately Briares's face morphed into something else. Same brown eyes, but otherwise totally different features. He had an upturned nose, arched eyebrows, and a weird smile, like he was trying to act brave. But then his face turned back to what it had been before.

"Does every part of his body just go nuts?" Percy half laughed half asked. "Do his ears change out to bionics?"

Thalia smacked him on his ear to shush him.

"No good," he said. "My scared face keeps coming back."

"How did you do that?" I asked.

Annabeth elbowed me. "Don't be rude. The Hundred-Handed Ones all have fifty different faces."

"I don't think ignorance should be called rude," Will said fairly.

"It is if you ask to see all fifty faces at once," Alex said with a very disappointed face of his own he knew he shouldn't and yet very much wanted to.

"Must make it hard to get a yearbook picture," I said.

Thalia laughed against her will and agreed, "a face a mother doesn't have to love, she could just tell him to change it to another!" Then kept snickering at her own joke.

Percy sighed in relief, it was kind of depressing watching her try to be all responsible and lieutenant-y. He was already worried the Hunt was going to make her boring and stiff.

Tyson was still entranced. "It will be okay, Briares! We will help you! Can I have your autograph?"

"Does he have an autograph book?" Alex asked in surprise.

"I think we found his celebrity crush," Magnus grinned.

"My question is, can you get one of those on Alcatraz island? I'm still not sure what to expect in that gift shop," Will chuckled.

Briares sniffled. "Do you have one hundred pens?"

"I only keep up with one because it's magic!" Percy looked traumatized at the idea of collecting all of those.

"His hands move independently of each other though," Nico frowned at the odd question.

"Maybe each would want to write their own autograph," Will said, an odd bit of disappointment in his voice nobody got because he hadn't gotten an autograph when it was available.

"Guys," Grover interrupted. "We have to get out of here. Kampê will be back. She'll sense us sooner or later."

"Break the bars," Annabeth said.

"Yes!" Tyson said, smiling proudly. "Briares can do it. He is very strong. Stronger than Cyclopes, even!

"That's, pretty strong," Magnus agreed, but with a weary kind of frown. How much stronger than Tyson could you be without tipping the terrifying scales?

Alex was no more impressed, because if Briares could break out of there, then surely he would have by now.

Watch!"

Briares whimpered. A dozen of his hands started playing patty-cake, but none of them made any attempt to break the bars.

"This is just sad," Jason frowned. How long had this guy been a prisoner already?

Alex tangled up a few strands of hair in his fingers and gave a painful tug. The memory, the feeling of how hard it was to walk out a door wasn't something he'd had to think about in a few years, but then he'd been kicked out. He hadn't gone back in.

Hopefully, it wouldn't take Briares that to get such a forceful freedom.

"If he's so strong," I said, "why is he stuck in jail?"

Annabeth ribbed me again. "He's terrified," she whispered. "Kampê had imprisoned him in Tartarus for thousands of years. How would you feel?"

Percy couldn't imagine it. Even at his worst moments with smelly Gabe he'd had his mom, or being underground in that Labyrinth, he'd been with his friends. He'd been able to move, have a sense of freedom, know that he could leave if he'd ever wanted to even if it wasn't something he'd ever consider.

The Hundred-Handed One covered his face again.

"Briares?" Tyson asked. "What...what is wrong? Show us your great strength!"

"Tyson," Annabeth said, "I think you'd better break the bars."

Tyson's smile melted slowly.

"I will break the bars," he repeated. He grabbed the cell door and ripped it off its hinges like it was made of wet clay.

Alex made a noise of appreciation. He knew Tyson would enjoy doing that with him.

"Come on, Briares," Annabeth said. "Let's get you out of here."

She held out her hand. For a second, Briares's face morphed to a hopeful expression. Several of his arms reached out, but twice as many slapped them away.

"I've heard of people fighting with themselves, but geez, this is ridiculous," Thalia said with grudging admiration for how much control Briares must have over himself. He could defeat any enemy if she could find him twenty-five bows.

"I cannot," he said. "She will punish me."

"It's all right," Annabeth promised. "You fought the Titans before, and you won, remember?"

"I remember the war." Briares's face morphed again—furrowed brow and a pouting mouth. His brooding face, I guess.

"I think Briares is going to be a great influence on you," Jason said in a very unhelpful tone to Percy. "Maybe seeing someone actively change their face around will help you figure out what an angry face is."

"Fat chance it'll do any good," Percy scoffed.

"Lightning shook the world. We threw many rocks. The Titans and the monsters almost won. Now they are getting strong again. Kampê said so."

"Don't listen to her," I said. "Come on!"

He didn't move. I knew Grover was right. We didn't have much time before Kampê returned. But I couldn't just leave him here. Tyson would cry for weeks.

"Yeah, that's why you shouldn't just abandon someone," Will sighed while rubbing at his forehead.

"I think this is a great, helpful tool to learn," Nico grinned. "All we have to do to win any fight is tell Percy it'll make someone cry if we don't."

"We shall achieve this quest or it'll make us all cry!" Percy said in a triumphant tone, even hefting an invisible sword. Then he lowered it and gave them a spectacular eye roll. "Nah, doesn't have a good ring to it."

"One game of rock, paper, scissors," I blurted out. "If I win, you come with us. If I lose, we'll leave you in jail."

"That should have been the chapter title," Magnus busted out laughing in surprise. "I Win Rock, Paper, Scissors a Hundred Times."

"Thanks for the confidence," Percy grinned, though he suspected they were all going to call him a cheat.

Annabeth looked at me like I was crazy.

"There's a face he could never forget," Jason clearly wasn't going to let that joke go.

"It's my favorite one," Percy agreed fondly.

Briares's face morphed to doubtful. "I always win rock, paper, scissors."

"Why? Can he read hands better than Magnus?" Alex asked suspiciously.

"I'm not a palm reader," Magnus frowned.

"Shush, you know what I meant," Alex waved his fingers concerningly close to his nose, exposing the dried in clay still in the folds of his skin Magnus had shamelessly been watching when he thought he could get away with it.

"Then let's do it!" I pounded my fist in my palm three times.

Briares did the same with all one hundred hands, which sounded like an army marching three steps forward. He came up with a whole avalanche of rocks, a classroom set of scissors, and enough paper to make a fleet of airplanes.

"He cheated!" Will yelped. "He still has to only pick one!"

"Game sounds a tad more interesting though if you used both hands," Nico grinned. "Bit more of a strategy involved."

"This guy could play a whole game of chess by himself and not use half his hands," Will grudgingly agreed. "Somebody's got to make it a challenge."

"Then he came to the right place," Percy cracked his knuckles in delight.

"I told you," he said sadly. "I always—" His face morphed to confusion. "What is that you made?"

"A gun," I told him, showing him my finger gun. It was a trick Paul Blofis had pulled on me, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"Percy, you cheated too," Will groaned in disappointment.

"And kids shouldn't play with guns, Paul is a terrible influence," Thalia rolled her eyes at Will to make him hear how ridiculous he was being.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again. What was he supposed to say? He should have used a sword instead?

"A gun beats anything."

"That's not fair."

"I didn't say anything about fair. Kampê's not going to be fair if we hang around. She's going to blame you for ripping off the bars. Now come on!"

"You're being a manipulative little shit," Thalia said approvingly. "You don't get enough credit for being able to do that."

"Annabeth gets all the good credit, I'm just the sidekick," Percy reminded cheerfully.

Briares sniffled. "Demigods are cheaters." But he slowly rose to his feet and followed us out of the cell.

"Not a great lesson I'd want to instill in him," Magnus said uneasily. The last thing Percy needed was this guy as a powerful enemy, and making all future generations of demigods his enemy.

"I saved his life, he can call me a sore loser and a poopoo head too if he and Tyson want to hide under a blanket and laugh about me," Percy shrugged.

I started to feel hopeful.

"And then all hell broke lose," Jason said with such calm confidence, nobody even realized that hadn't been in the book.

All we had to do was get downstairs and find the Labyrinth entrance. But then Tyson froze.

On the ground floor right below, Kampê was snarling at us.

"Is run the right word there?" Magnus tried hard not to whimper.

"Better than freeze?" Alex shrugged.

Percy was making a strangled kind of noise that wasn't a word at all, his eyes large enough he resembled a deep sea fish.

"The other way," I said.

"Unless Tyson wants her autograph too, then you might stop," Thalia shivered.

"Nope, sorry, I'd have to make the tough call on that and tell him no," Percy said only a tad frantically.

We bolted down the catwalk. This time Briares was happy to follow us. In fact he sprinted out front, a hundred arms waving in panic.

"Oh, good to know that's all it took," Jason yelped in something close to betrayal, but he also had half a mind to lash a rope to one of his arms and hang on for the free ride, so he wasn't that offended.

Behind us, I heard the sound of giant wings as Kampê took to the air.

"Is now a good time to discuss how exactly it's possible for dragons to take flight?" Alex asked critically. "Especially the European ones which are all heavy-armored tanky beasts, and you cannot tell me she's gliding in there."

"You know Alex," Percy tried to say as casually as possible, "I think we should shelve that, and save it for a quiet time when we've just dodged our own near death experience, not in the middle of one."

"Duly noted," Alex nodded.

She hissed and growled in her ancient language, but I didn't need a translation to know she was planning to kill us.

"I'm sure Tyson's feelings won't be to hurt," Jason snorted.

We scrambled down the stairs, through a corridor, and past a guard's station—out into another block of prison cells.

"Left," Annabeth said. "I remember this from the tour."

"I'd trust any direction that wasn't backwards," Will promised faintly.

We burst outside and found ourselves in the prison yard, ringed by security towers and barbed wire. After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded me.

Magnus winced along with him, because he didn't usually experience that very harshly, or he got over it weirdly quickly. He'd never considered that of any use outside of just hanging around making sure Hearth or Blitz didn't bump into anything, now he realized he might have been able to take in the area a split second faster than someone like Percy or Annabeth.

Tourists were milling around, taking pictures. The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled.

The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. It was hard to believe the tourists couldn't see the supernatural storm brewing, but they didn't give any hint that anything was wrong.

"Still want that picture-perfect moment Will?" Nico asked mildly.

"Ever notice how nobody takes pictures of hard times?" Will asked with a sad smile. "Maybe I would, do a before and after thing."

"You're insane," Nico chuckled with growing affection for his particular insanity.

"It's even worse," Annabeth said, gazing to the north. "The storms have been bad all year, but that—"

"Keep moving," Briares wailed. "She is behind us!"

"And you guys keep telling me I have bad timing," Alex said in exasperation. "At least I didn't want to stop and talk about the scenery!"

"You're trying to tell us you wouldn't stop and smell the roses while a dragon canopy is behind you?" Jason asked in disbelief.

"Roses are so cliché," he scoffed like that was actually an answer before waving him on.

We ran to the far end of the yard, as far from the cellblock as possible.

"Kampê's too big to get through the doors," I said hopefully.

Then the wall exploded.

Thalia's smile looked painful as she tried to smother a laugh, and was failing. "Okay, next, I want you to say, I don't want a million dollars!"

"It doesn't work like that, I've tried," Percy promised through a grit-tooth smile.

Tourists screamed as Kampê appeared from the dust and rubble, her wings spread out as wide as the yard. She was holding two swords—long bronze scimitars that glowed with a weird greenish aura, boiling wisps of vapor that smelled sour and hot even across the yard.

"Poison!" Grover yelped. "Don't let those things touch you or..."

"Or we'll die?" I guessed.

"Well...after you shrivel slowly to dust, yes."

"Because of course the giant every-monster gets poisonous swords! What next, a propeller hat? A backpack full or restores?" Magnus looked exhausted for Percy even hearing of this unstoppable beast.

Percy wondered when the heck his life had turned into something that made a horror movie sound bland. It didn't sound great when he decided always.

"Let's avoid the swords," I decided.

"That is possibly the wisest thing you've ever said," Thalia said, clearly impressed.

"You and Grover putting that one good brain cell to use at the right time," Jason snorted.

"Briares, fight!" Tyson urged. "Grow to full size!"

Instead, Briares looked like he was trying to shrink even smaller. He appeared to be wearing his absolutely terrified face.

"I'm very disappointed you haven't continued describing all these new features," Alex pouted. "Did he have a button nose? A wide forehead? Dimples?"

"You know, I really didn't think about it much," Percy grinned, "like Jason said, it was all in the eyes."

"Ha!" Jason gave a barking laugh before falling off into snickers for a solid minute before he could keep going while Percy stared on, pleased with himself he'd gotten him to laugh so hard. Jason definitely needed to stop thinking and counting so much and have a little more fun.

Kampê thundered toward us on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body.

For a second I thought about drawing Riptide and facing her,

"And you have two great guys to help you throw rocks at this monster and everything," Alex smirked right at Percy.

He took in a deep breath and raised his hand at the giant white boulder still sitting in the middle of the room from where he'd nearly caved in the roof.

It didn't move, and after several silent moments of everybody watching blankly, Percy shrugged. "See, told you it wouldn't work."

"You weren't really trying at all, were you?" Alex asked tragically, as if actually offended Percy hadn't thrown a rock at him to really nail his point.

"My attention is a little split, try again later," Percy rolled his eyes.

Alex sniffed, he knew a dismissal when he heard one. "I remember what ADHD stands for you know," he grumbled, but Percy was back to staring at the book and chewing on the cap of his pen.

but my heart crawled into my throat. Then Annabeth said what I was thinking: "Run."

That was the end of the debate.

"I want you to remember this moment if you ever think of joining that particular club at Goode High," Nico told him conversationally enough. He hadn't even been in awe this time Percy had run like a sensible person or taken charge. He was just a guy running for his life like anyone.

"Yeah Nico, this is for sure the first thing I want coming to my mind joining any club," Percy gave him a bewildered frown.

There was no fighting this thing. We ran through the jail yard and out the gates of the prison, the monster right behind us. Mortals screamed and ran. Emergency sirens began to blare. We hit the wharf just as a tour boat was unloading. The new group of visitors froze as they saw us charging toward them, followed by a mob of frightened tourists, followed by...I don't know what they saw through the Mist, but it could not have been good.

"Stampeding elephant," Alex offered.

"Raining men?" Magnus asked.

"A very angry woman throwing snakes at people out of a bazooka," Jason said with a little to much confidence, his mind offering a weirdly specific image of seeing someone on the news talk about this...

"The boat?" Grover asked.

"Too slow," Tyson said.

"Not with Percy driving it!" Will yelped.

"I wasn't going to argue with Tyson, who knew if she was just getting started," Percy shook his head sharply. He hadn't exactly sat around and clocked his ability to move a boat faster than every monster.

"Back into the maze. Only chance."

"We need a diversion," Annabeth said.

Tyson ripped a metal lamppost out of the ground. "I will distract Kampê. You run ahead."

"I'll help you," I said.

"No," Tyson said. "You go. Poison will hurt Cyclopes. A lot of pain. But it won't kill."

"Are you sure?"

"Go, brother. I will meet you inside."

"It was never hard to guess who Tyson took the best influence from," Thalia chuckled, handing him a mock stack of documents. "I concede the case, you now have both kids all to yourself."

Percy gave her a tragic look as he mock-hugged them to his chest and pleaded, "you won't even offer child support?"

"Ha, ha, ha," she chuckled as she gave him a light push. Hopefully this would finally get him to let go of that stupid joke, and besides, she'd meant it anyways. How could she not admire the hero he'd been to Tyson the instant they met? It was who he always was.

I hated the idea. I'd almost lost Tyson once before, and I didn't want to ever risk that again. But there was no time to argue, and I had no better idea.

"Sometimes the best idea is blind trust," Jason agreed gently.

Percy wasn't sure he liked it when he heard Jason saying stuff like that, and not because he disagreed. It just sounded exhausting, like how Chiron sometimes sounded so old. Jason was his age, he shouldn't know all that.

Annabeth, Grover, and I each took one of Briares's hands and dragged him toward the concession stands while Tyson bellowed, lowered his pole, and charged Kampê like a jousting knight.

"Getting medieval times up in here," Alex grinned. "I told you to get Tyson a cyclops-sized horse Percy, this would have been perfect!"

"I bet Rainbow would come around if we'd had time to call," Percy agreed.

She'd been glaring at Briares, but Tyson got her attention as soon as he nailed her in the chest with the pole, pushing her back into the wall. She shrieked and slashed with her swords, slicing the pole to shreds. Poison dripped in pools all around her, sizzling into the cement.

Tyson jumped back as Kampê's hair lashed and hissed, and the vipers around her legs darted their tongues in every direction. A lion popped out of the weird half-formed faces around her waist and roared.

As we sprinted for the cellblocks, the last thing I saw was Tyson picking up a Dippin' Dots stand and throwing it at Kampê. Ice cream and poison exploded everywhere, all the little snakes in Kampê's hair dotted with tuttifrutti.

Percy couldn't describe the dread that filled him if he wanted to. He would have learned to run backwards or started a jousting tournament or anything if he'd thought it would help in that moment.

But he trusted Tyson. He said he was going to meet him and so he clenched his fist tight enough he could have held a hundred hands and told himself to get a move on, this is what Tyson needed from him right now. The ocean had been roaring in his ears like a cheer from their dad.

He didn't seem to realize, as usual, he was really causing the ocean to begin stirring around them.

We dashed back into the jail yard.

"Can't make it," Briares huffed.

"Tyson is risking his life to help you!" I yelled at him. "You will make it."

As we reached the door of the cellblock, I heard an angry roar. I glanced back and saw Tyson running toward us at full speed, Kampê right behind him. She was plastered in ice cream and T-shirts. One of the bear heads on her waist was now wearing a pair of crooked plastic Alcatraz sunglasses.

"I cannot believe Rachel isn't here to help me get a visual on this," Alex groaned. "You think Oceanus will let us take souvenirs when we're done, because I will fight someone for that paragraph to exist so I can make a sculpture of it!"

"I'm sure you can just rip out a page and stuff it in your shoe," Percy told him, letting himself be temporarily distracted. People were in his room. Vulnerable friends who he couldn't blast away. "In fact, I'll be starting a fire underwater soon enough to burn all these, so get your picks while you can." Like he wanted anybody else to suffer the nightmare that was his life when this was done.

"Hurry!" Annabeth said, like I needed to be told that.

"She's just a good leader like that, making sure you're all on the same page," Jason snickered.

"I'll shove that page up your nose, see if you can finish it then," but Percy couldn't help but force a laugh. He needed to hear Tyson was okay more than jokes right now.

We finally found the cell where we'd come in, but the back wall was completely smooth—no sign of a boulder or anything.

"Look for the mark!" Annabeth said.

"There!" Grover touched a tiny scratch, and it became a Greek . The mark of Daedalus glowed blue, and the stone wall grinded open.

Too slowly.

Tyson was coming through the cellblock, Kampê's swords lashing out behind him, slicing indiscriminately through cell bars and stone walls.

I pushed Briares inside the maze, then Annabeth and Grover.

"You can do it!" I told Tyson. But immediately I knew he couldn't. Kampê was gaining. She raised her swords.

Percy moved on reflex. He was flinging only in his mind, but the water reacted around him.

CRASH!

There was now a hole punched into the door at least, instead of someone's skull. Perfectly shaped for someone to fit their head through like they wanted to be Janus for Halloween. Percy's arm was still flung out like a follow-through on a hoop until Thalia gently stood up and grabbed him, lowering him back into his seat as he stuttered for unneeded air while Jason calmly finished like a cannon hadn't just gone off.

I need a distraction—something big. I slapped my wristwatch and it spiraled into a bronze shield.

Desperately, I threw it at the monster's face.

SMACK! The shield hit her in the face and she faltered just long enough for Tyson to dive past me into the maze.

Percy rubbed the empty space where that watch used to be with the smallest of regret. Tyson was alive, and he'd make him an even better watch with their new, even more deadly adventures on it when he got back.

I was right behind him. Kampê charged, but she was too late. The stone door closed and its magic sealed us in. I could feel the whole tunnel shake as Kampê pounded against it, roaring furiously. We didn't stick around to play knock, knock with her, though.

"Talk about one of the greatest punchlines of all time," Thalia said faintly. That had been close. Way to close.

"Would anybody begrudge me making one up for that though?" Alex grinned. "I bet nobody will see it coming."

"You go right ahead Alex, like we can stop you," Will chuckled.

We raced into the darkness, and for the first time (and the last) I was glad to be back in the Labyrinth.

"Someone needed to bring a photographer on these trips to commemorate all the happy times you keep glossing over," Jason said as he began to hand the book over. "I can't believe nobody commemorated that first and last time in one moment!"

"That's what we have you for Jason," Magnus smirked as he took the book. "You're our bookkeeper."

"That would have been much funnier if he was about to start his turn," Alex frowned at him. "Work on your timing Magnus."

"I'll get right on that," he agreed. Half of him wanted to sit in a daze and wonder if Alex had some implications of that, but his fingers were already grazing along for the next chapter. Was it to much to hope this quest would go a tad easier now that they had Briares on their side?

[tenebriism]

(herosway Impa)

   “I wish you wouldn’t be so reckless.” There’s a phrase for that, the cat calling the kettle or something, since Impa was just as reckless as Urbosa was. Still though, she had gone out there with the Guardswomen and had gotten herself hurt. Impa, having heard that, had rushed out into the desert to drag her ass back to the Palace, even by her hair if she had to. Everything turned into a bit of a mess, as it tends to do with their reckless Chief, but now that they were in her room it seemed to have settled a little bit. 

   She had Urbosa settled down on the edge of her own bed, a pair of clothes had been picked out from her closet and were gently laid down beside her. Worry, a lot of worry, she can never seem to help it and that worry grew even more when seeing Urbosa get hurt. Impa was the best out of any of them when it came to ignoring an injury, brushing it off and doing whatever she had to in order to keep going, but she doesn’t like seeing Urbosa do it. Hypocritical, but she never claimed to not be.

   She moved a bit closer to Urbosa’s side and reached her hands up, gently brushing some hair from her face and pushing it behind her ear. She gives a small sigh as she plucks a stone from the thick locks, shaking her head slightly. “You are a mess, I never thought I would see the day where you let a single strand of hair fall out of place.” As teasing as it sounds she was quite serious too. But, Impa knew personally, that the strongest of warriors were not unshakable rocks. They were all people in the end, and people could be hurt, broken, torn down and ripped apart. 

   They could bleed, and they could die. 

   The healers had already looked her over, have patched and given her a potion. Still, Impa worries and she would rather see for her own eyes that Urbosa really was alright. “You should take a bath and get cleaned up.” 

SHE DOESN'T WANT TO ADMIT that her pride had been harmed far more than her actual body. Physical wounds would heal with time, skin would mend itself with medicines and bandages, but the KNOWLEDGE that she had failed in battle . . . that she had ended up having to RELY on others just to drag her out of a situation she THOUGHT she had handled, is far more gruesome than a blade to the waist could ever be. Urbosa hates the looks of concern, the hovering, the whispers. The way she can HEAR her guards outside the door, whispering amongst themselves, because her ears are far too tuned into her surroundings to drown them out . . . it makes her feel nauseous. Makes her internally seethe, to the point her head begins to ache more from her own poor mood than the injuries themselves.

" If it's something even Lady Urbosa cannot handle--- " " Should we lay low ? Plan to SHELTER, should things worsen ? " " I am not sure. We should await Lady Urbosa's guidance, once she recovers. "

She doesn't want them to think that . . . to FEAR there is something she cannot handle. There is a REASON she had been chosen to lead the strongest group of warriors in all of Hyrule, and as it stands, she had done a terrible job of justifying it on this occasion.

" . . . tell me, Impa . . . " She starts, after several moments of silence even after the Sheikah had addressed her, " What could I have done differently in that moment ? The Yiga . . . they are learning. Evolving. Tactics that once guaranteed a victory now no longer work, and there is only so much training even my finest can suffer through. " She won't say the words . . . not explicitly, but it's reflected in the way she bows her head, ASHAMED, and curls her fingers into trembling fists atop her legs. She is, for once . . . at a complete loss.

And, goddesses, so tired. So very tired . . .

Her body protests with every little movement, but she refuses to sit here, stagnant. It's as if she must punish herself for this grave error, agitating her freshly patched wounds amidst her rise from the bed. Every foolish shift, every tiny steps, urges forth a hitch in breath or displeased groan, but still, she presses onwards until she's standing in front of her mirror, swaying. Staring. Noting the dirt in her hair, the broken jewelry . . . the look of a woman who had been chewed up and spit right back out. This isn't her . . . and she HATES it.

" Nevermind, I needn't an answer right this very moment. If you will excuse me, I believe a bath, and a few hours to myself, are just what I need to clear my head. " She doesn't want Impa to see her like this anymore than she already has, and Urbosa, too set in her ways, does not leave the window open to debate. It's slammed closed, clasped shut, and once more, Urbosa closes herself off, swallowing a cry for HELP that still felt like it was SUFFOCATING her.

[labyrithian]

Hi! I found you via the puppy blues tag and I wanted to see how you’re going with it, especially since I’m now in exactly the same boat. Can you tell me what helped you get through the blues and how Maize is going now? It’s only been 3 days for me but I am struggling and I think it’s starting to worry my family. If you don’t want to talk about it, please just let me know and I wish you the best x

Hi, I will gladly and happily tell you that I have finally passed my puppy blues! It’s been a long time since my last bout of puppy blues. I think it lasted mostly the first 3 months. The worst was the first few weeks to a month, where it seemed to be a near constant feeling. After that, the feelings seemed to come and go until finally it just stop coming all together. I think it really comes down to just needing to adjust to the fact that your life is different now. It’s not like with cats who come and go throughout the day for your attention. Dogs are a lot more demanding, and I think there’s a reason people always joke about getting a dog before having a baby. It’ll be hard, but just try to be patient with yourself. Remember to let the puppy nap in their crate/pen area to give yourself some time to yourself now and then. I think what it really comes down to is needing to adjust to a new schedule and lifestyle. Life won’t be the same, but, given time and adjustment, it can be so much more rewarding.

Also remember to let them sleep on your lap here and there, even if you’re not feeling quite like doing it. I say this because I regret not taking more time to just rest with her back then. She’s very active, so, when she slept, I always tried to ignore that she was there at the time. I regret it now, because she was only a baby once, and I feel like I missed out on some bonding while I was too steeped in my own misery.

She needed so much time, so much attention, that I felt exhausted and trapped by her. It no longer feel this way, though I do occasionally still get annoyed at just how much attention she needs from me. That feeling is easily fixed by putting her in the ‘safe room’. Basically, a room for her to play in for a bit that has nothing she could easily eat or hurt herself with. Either that, or having a family member take her for a bit so I can get some alone time.

Maize is a year old now and no longer needs such a strict routine. She potty trained and bow knows how to be alone for a bit without freaking out. It helps to have other pets if you have them. I still live with family, so Maize hangs out with my sister’s dog and my cat. Yes, my biggest fear of her and Piper (my cat) not getting along were ultimately unfounded. Piper gets annoyed with Maize’s over exuberance, but also cuddles and bathes her and plays with her so that’s great. The only one who she doesn’t get along with is our senior cat, but they hardly ever cross paths anyway.

Okay, long story short, it gets better. Power through the overwhelming feelings by using routine and taking time for yourself here and there. Remember to bathe and eat and brush your teeth. Also, do yourself a huge favor and stay on top of training her. All of it: potty training, manner’s around others, manners around the house, etc. It will make things much better once you see them growing into a dog that will fit well into your life and not peeing all over the house.

Maize is good on potty training and handling people outside the house…not so much when people are at our house or when energetic kids are around. Not the best, but not horrible for me, as I don’t really enjoy having others around my home anyway.

Good luck! Remember that, once you finally get through this funk, you may find yourself loving this dog much more than you could have ever imagined. Also, no, your dog doesn’t hate you now because of this phase. (Once the puppy blues started winding down for me I felt like I ruined our bond for awhile. It wasn’t true, Maize still loves me most even if Nona gives her more treats :D)

Sorry if any of this seems jumbled or all over the place, I’m writing this from my phone, haha.

[shenspen]

Narrative Essay: Rescue Cat

I have fallen victim to a love so deep, so unconditional, and so pure, yet the heartbreak is inevitable. She has comforted me at my lowest of lows, been by my side through the highest of highs, and has given my life more meaning. Her beautiful green eyes stare deep into my soul as she sees me as a version of myself that I usually keep hidden. She sees me for the real me, yet she loves even the parts of myself that I deem unlovable. A love like this is life-changing; a love like this is bound to hurt. Who would've thought a tiny, furry body with a pink heart-shaped nose and majestic whiskers that graciously frame her face could hold so much love? You may be wondering how an animal could have an immense impact on someone’s life. If you've had a true connection with one, you may completely understand how I feel, but if not, by the end of my story, your mind will be changed. 

About two years ago, exactly a day after I received some horrible news and spent the whole day crying, I got a text that was rather peculiar. It was from my mother. She sent a picture of a tiny, raggedy kitten and said, “Do you want this cat?” She then told me how they found her under a car crying, and they took her inside and fed her. Of course, my answer was an immediate yes. No thinking was necessary. I've been wanting a cat for years, and at last the cat distribution system worked in my favour and sent one my way. It was fair to say that instead of spending my day in bed moping about how sad my life was, I spent the whole day waiting for my mommy to come home with my new kitten.

I spent the whole day staring at a picture of this little sad-looking dirty kitten, took a look at myself, and realised that maybe we’re not that different. Perhaps that's why we’re perfect for each other. That evening, when I met her, she was screaming at me, perhaps out of confusion as she had been taken to a new place. To this day, she is still very vocal, as she answers everything I say to her. She was smaller than I could have possibly imagined. She could almost fit in the palm of my hand, and she was so dirty. Today, she’s so big that her body fills my lap. I wasn't prepared for her in any way, yet I tried my best to care for her. I fed her tuna, and she came around immediately. It was almost as if God made this tiny kitten perfectly for me. 

I gave her a bath the following day, took her to the vet, and got the necessary supplies for her. She saved me from laying in bed all day, wallowing in sadness at life's uncertainties, by giving me something to focus on. She layed in bed with me as I cried. She was there for me when I moved into my first apartment and started university. She follows me around the house like she's my little shadow. She gives me a reason to get out of bed in the mornings because she literally screams at me until I get up. She forces me to take care of myself so that I can take care of her.

As she grew older, our bond grew stronger, and soon enough, I think she taught me that I should take life one day at a time. Through her stubbornness, she taught me the importance of being headstrong and ignoring what others think. Through her determination to get whatever she wanted, she taught me that I should do the same. Through her love, she has taught me that I am deserving of love, because how could an animal so small have the courage to love a human who has given every species countless reasons not to trust them. 

Today I cannot imagine my life without her, and it’s sad to say that maybe, possibly, one day her soul will transcend and I will be left alone. She has taught me true love. She has stolen my heart, and I fear she will be the one to break it one day. Pets have the ability to change lives for the better. They have the ability to provide their humans with so much happiness that it's fair to say that the only time they will ever break your heart is when they depart this earth.