#and you have to claw and pick at the collar till its stretched out until you eventually decide to cut it out to save yourself the trouble

[ratatatastic]

[softjeon]

Home | Pt. 1

• Pairing: Namjoon x Hybrid!Yoongi (Platonic!) • Genre: Fluff  | Hybrid!AU • Words: 3,7k • Disclaimer: a tiny bit of anxiety and insomnia

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ Namjoon watched Yoongi strutting after him over his shoulder and sighed. He couldn't believe he's really done it; paying too much money for a hybrid that would bite him if given the chance when all he had wanted was a cute, little - very much harmless - kitten to begin with.

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Late-afternoon sun was flooding in through the sliding doors, bleaching out the color from the room. Namjoon took a look in the wall mirror and almost turned right away. He looked awful. Dark shadows under his eyes the visible proof of his sleepless nights. “You still look good, don’t worry.” A low voice behind him said, “You always look handsome, Joonie.” Namjoon nodded at that, the wink on Hoseok’s face making him blush, before following him quickly.

“Have you ever thought about getting a pet?”

Namjoon looked up to see Jimin hovering next to him, a teapot in his hand only waiting for him to give over his cup. “N-no, why should I?”

“Then you’re not as alone. It helps you know...you could ask Taehyung if he knows some good places or if there has been some offspring.” Jimin reassured him with a nudge to his side, before placing the pot on the coffee table and cuddled up next to his boyfriend, “You always carry the burden of so many people around you.” Hoseok laid his arm around him and Namjoon couldn’t help but watch their interactions with a painful ache pulling at his heartstrings.

It had been a week, maybe more, Namjoon wasn’t so sure anymore and what Jimin had said still lingered in the back of his mind.

Maybe it was good.

Maybe it was a bit too much responsibility.

That morning, he woke up with a scream again. Sweat dripping down his forehead, his heart beating so fast that it was threatening to jump right out of his chest and his hands shivering. He was panting, his eyes flickering around in panic. He couldn’t take one more sleepless night.

Namjoon hesitated when he stood in front of the pet store, standing in the middle of the sidewalk so that people had to maneuver around him. Biting his lip in a nervous manner, he reached for the door, jerking with the sound of the bell that probably already notified someone. He wished it hadn’t.

Not, yet at least.

It wasn’t as loud as he had expected, a few puppies barking at his arrival looking up at him and reminding him awfully a lot of Jimin. Namjoon loved his friends, he always did and still he felt alone a lot of times. He’d figured it was just the way his brain was wired and maybe owning a cat would help him to get out his headspace some more. Namjoon had read a lot about it the past sleepless nights, ordering toys, gadgets anything one would need to be the perfect cat owner. He never half assed something.

Reaching down for one of the puppies, he scratched the small dog behind his ear with a smile. “Maybe it’s not that bad of an idea,” He was mumbling those reassuring words to himself for days now. A few times when he had unpacked the first things he bought and then again when he started to read all about how to take care of a cat.

Namjoon turned around, feeling a bit overwhelmed with the amount of animals in this shop. Maybe he should have called Taehyung to ask him about this, but he had felt a bit ashamed. He sighed, laughing at himself for even thinking about being ashamed just because he wasn’t sure where to buy a cat. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?

Namjoon rolled his shoulders back, shaking his head to get out of his head. He was starting to overthink this again. With a determined step, he walked to the aisle where he was supposing the cats were, when he stopped.

His gaze first fell onto the fluffy white ears, wandering down over the white hair, the big black eyes that were staring straight back at him. Namjoon cocked his head to the side, his heart picking up its pace. He didn’t know the store was also selling hybrids (probably because he had been looking at pictures of kittens all night) as he walked closer.

There was a softness about him, it’s white fluffy tail only adding to it. Namjoon wasn’t sure what pulled him in, maybe it was the eyes, or the cute button nose that he would have loved to boop. He knew nothing about hybrids though, only that Taehyung owned some on his farm right outside of Seoul and some of his other friends did. But Namjoon had figured a cat was already a lot of work. Enough for him at least. Still he couldn’t help but reach out his hand to him slowly, smiling lightly at the beautiful man that sat in the corner.

Yoongi’s had his eyes closed trying to drain out his surroundings. Because if he didn't he would want to pace, run along the cage, scream, shake the stupid metal bars caging him in. He was torn between pure rage and utter desperation - but he knew as soon as he would show any of it there would be that man with the electric stick again, shocking him into obedience. So, he lied there, motionless, storm raging inside while people came and go.

The little bell signaled that someone had come in again. It was a small sound, more for the pets than the humans so that they could show themselves form their best side and present exactly what the human was looking for: a cute, easy, well trained pet. Yoongi just growled low in his throat.

He couldn’t hear steps at first though which made him nervous because normally customers quickly went past him. So, he blinked open one eye. And then the other one. There was a man standing in the shop, still close to the door as if he wasn’t really sure where to go and what to do. His blonde hair looked soft and Yoongi felt the sudden urge to bury his nose in it because it looked so much like fur and he had been so lonely for so long… he stomped out the emotion before it could grow too big, growling for good measure. He would never, ever ever let one of those filthy humans touch him. They might have overpowered him and locked him here and they might think that giving him a collar and clipping his claws and filing his teeth would make him a pet, but he would fight till his very last dying breath to stay who he truly was! He startled when the human suddenly made eye contact with him. It was too late to pretend to be asleep now so he stared back, as fiery and hateful as he could. Instead of walking past him quickly or being scared off the human had the audacity to smile at him and then he reached out his hand! Over the bar!

Yoongi half hoped that the man would touch them, just to feel the electricity running through them but he probably wouldn’t. There were signs all over not to touch them. Why the man had thought that it would be a good idea to just reach over them instead was beyond him. Slowly Yoongi uncurled his tail and stretched. His ears, formerly lying flat against his skull stood up, white and fluffy, moving in the direction of the human. He wanted to see if that man was stupid enough to let him come close.

Namjoon couldn’t believe how beautiful the hybrid was, it’s fluffy fur only inviting him further. He had completely ignored the signs, like he usually did when his eyes were set on something and maybe Namjoon was a little clumsy and had a bit of a bad habit to do exactly what he wasn’t supposed to without knowing. So, he reached out for the fox, wanting to let it sniff his hand first before he would maybe pat his fur. Namjoon just wanted to feel how soft it really was.  

The human kept his hand steadily outreached for him and Yoongi couldn’t help it, he got curious. So, he inched a little closer than he would have needed to, sniffing in Namjoon’s general direction. He tasted different than the humans in the shop, there was no hint of disinfectant on him that bit Yoongi’s nose or the irony smell of metal bars and the washing detergent they used for their working clothes. This one strangely smelled like paper, the old kind, the one you found in old books. And there was coffee, lots of it, with a hint of something sweet and spicy, like vanilla and cardamom. Yoongi cocked his head, intrigued - but he came quickly back to his senses when the other moved. He had turned his hand as if he was about to pet him and Yoongi saw red.

He growled while sinking his claws right into the man's hand. Unfortunately, they had shortened his claws when they had first caught him so the wound wasn’t very deep, but he could still feel the satisfying rip of skin and the wetness of blood on his fingertips. Yoongi jumped back, out of reach, growling as dangerously as he could. He would have loved to bite him, to sink his teeth into that man who had the audacity to treat him like a puppy, but he had made that mistake just once to put his head that close to humans hands and it had almost cost him an ear. So, this would have to be enough as revenge.

Namjoon flinched back, hissing at the sudden pain in his hand. “Fuck,” He cursed to himself quietly, eyeing the wound first before he looked at Yoongi again in a mix of confusion and sadness. “I…I am sorry.” Namjoon mumbled towards the fox that was still flashing his teeth, “I really didn’t want to scare you.” He smiled sadly, whining when he saw the scratches on his hand that would definitely leave a scar one day. A hand on his shoulder made Namjoon jerk violently again. He hadn’t noticed one of the workers coming closer.

“Oh my, I’m so.. so very sorry! Please excuse us, he is new, just came in a few days ago so he is not ready for adoption. We just put him here because there was no other place to securely put him until he will be declawed and trained and ready to be sold.” The employee looked really uncomfortable, running away just to come back a few seconds later with disinfectant and a band aid. He sprayed the disinfectant without warning and then dabbed the blood away with a cotton pad before placing the band aid over Namjoon’s entire hand. It looked as if the other had never used one before in his life, “Again I am really, very sorry and... unfortunately, I have to remind you of the signs to not go too close to the cages without an employee so we can’t really be held responsible for this unlucky outcome. But I can reassure you that he is a special case, all of our other hybrids are absolutely docile and love to be petted. I can give you a tour around if you want. We have this really cute bunny hybrid, he’s just a few years old, a blue tortoiseshell or if you want someone really calm and timid then we have another bunny in chocolate and pearl with chocolate tipped guard hairs. He’s really pretty so of course he’s a little pricier...” When Namjoon didn’t really react to any of this the employee quickly continued, “...but I’m sure we find something fitting we have hybrids in all price ranges and variations. And if something is not in stock right now we can order from other branches. So, tell me, what is it you’re looking for? Something fluffy, something low effort, a younger hybrid, and old one - they are so good for seniors -“

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” He answered quickly, already annoyed at how much the employer was talking. Namjoon rolled his eyes as the young boy pointed somewhere else in the shop while he only halfheartedly listened. “It’s okay. It was my own fault for reaching out anyways. I hope I didn’t scare him too much,” Namjoon’s eyes flickered over to the white fox and then to the sign, reading it carefully. So, he was an arctic fox. A rare one at that and one shouldn’t pet him. Great. At least he knew it better now, Namjoon thought to himself. And still his eyes found the one of the arctic fox again, smiling at him apologetically and ignoring whatever the young boy was talking about. Namjoon was sure that the hybrids were cute, but no other bunny hybrid could be as cute as Jungkook anyways. Now that he was thinking about it, Namjoon made a mental note to visit Taehyung and Jungkook again sometime. Just to see that precious boy jump around in excitement. “I wanted…to look at the kittens?”

“Kittens?” The salesman paused in surprise. “Oh, of course. This way please.” In his corner Yoongi chuckled darkly. No wonder the man had no idea how to handle him when he had been looking for kittens. He absolutely wasn’t one. Instead of loosening his tense stance and relaxing back into his position on the floor he didn’t move at all while the man was in front of his cage, staring at him accusingly. He didn’t react to the other’s apologetic smiles and instead just bared his fangs further when they moved past him.

Such an idiot.

There was an uncomfortable pull on his insides when he was alone again, the words of the employee running through his mind. He was scared of being declawed. It would hurt a lot and afterwards he would be defenseless. Except for his teeth but if he didn’t behave then they would file them down. He shuddered and hated himself for it. He needed to stay strong. They wouldn't break him.

He wouldn’t let them!

…

Namjoon had two kittens on his arms, one nuzzling his face against his chest right away, while the other was sniffing him carefully. Both were absolutely beautiful and Namjoon had to smile, feeling absolutely content right now. He wasn’t paying much attention on the employees talk though and how he was getting out another one of them. A black on this time with bright blue eyes staring right back at him. And still, Namjoon couldn’t help but turn around again when he could hear the noise coming from one of the cages.

“Where did you get him from?” Namjoon asked, “The arctic fox, I mean. Does he have a name?”

“We got him from a... a breeder in Canada.” The employer avoided his gaze and apparently thought that it would make it less obvious that he was lying. “And as he isn’t adoption ready we didn’t name him yet. All names are absolutely temporary though until the owner decided on the name they will keep.” Smile back in place he nodded in the direction of the kittens. “So, did you see something that you like? If not we can go into the office and we can scroll through the kitten profiles of our branches. They could be here next week if you decide on this option and they could also be delivered directly to your home. What do you say?”

Namjoon nodded in thought. Of course, his mind started to fight a war just exact in this moment. The little kitten in his hold meowing at him, pleading him with his big eyes to take him home and Namjoon wanted to. So badly. But then he saw the look in the employees eyes, the obvious lies that he told him about the fox. There was something not right about this, he could feel it in his bones. The words of ‘declawing’ and ‘not ready to be sold’ coming back into his mind and how the employee told him about it getting trained. Why should a hybrid from an official breeder get trained? Shouldn’t that have happened before? He bit his lip, his heart picking up its pace.

“I want him.” Namjoon nodded towards the cage of the fox and put the kittens back down. “Y-yes. I’d like to buy him.”

The employee nodded, mistaking Namjoon’s nod in the direction of the fox cage to a sign that he had chosen one of the kittens. “Yes, he is a real beauty, he’ll be a gorgeous cat one day. You made a good choice here...”

Namjoon shook his head determinately, “No. The hybrid. I want the fox.” He looked at him, nodding to show that he was serious.

The employee's eyes widened, and he asked again as if he wanted to make sure that he had heard right. “The... the arctic fox hybrid? The one who bit you? But... I’m really sorry sir but he isn’t trained, and I told you that he isn’t declawed yet, he could be a danger to you and your home and I’m not sure… Sir, a kitten is way easier to handle. A hybrid needs way more attention that that especially in the beginning and... are you sure you don’t want to think this over? There are security measurements that you would have to take with a hybrid like him and you would have to buy a leash and a muzzle and... he’s way more expensive than a traditional pet. You need more space and… you can’t just give him back if you don’t like him. You would have to take him for two weeks at least. And if you return him after that phase you won’t get your full money back, only half of it. It’s… is this really what you want, sir?” He looked at him as if he was expecting a ‘no’.

“He didn’t bite me, he only scratched me. It’s fine…I-I can train him and my friend…he’s a trainer…of some sorts,” Namjoon added the last words a little quieter. Taehyung had a farm filled with animals; he knew naturally how to train animals, but he wasn’t a professional by far . “No. I want him. I will bring him to the vet to declaw him then.” Namjoon cringed at the words, not liking how they sounded but he was sure if he told him that he would never declaw a hybrid that they wouldn’t sell it to him. “I’ll buy anything you think is necessary for me to have. You can go ahead and chose it for me. I trust your knowledge.” Namjoon put on a smile, one that always brought him the best deals with his customers. He put a hand on the young man’s shoulder and nodded reassuringly,  “I have enough space…and enough money.”

The last was what had the man finally agreeing. He hesitated for a second and then shuffled off to the office to get the needed documents, copy the rules for owners of predatory hybrids and also get everything Namjoon would need to take Yoongi home. After he had let Namjoon sign everything  and write him a little note that he was taking Yoongi home despite him not being 100% ready and that he wouldn’t sure them for any consequences the man stashed them away and smiled. “Great. Now he is yours. I’ll get the leash on him and then you can take him home!” 

Before Namjoon could ask him how exactly he wanted to put a leash on a fox that scratched if you even came within reach the man took out a stick that looked absolutely harmless - until it cackled to life, the electricity running through it making it hum. As soon as he heard the sound Yoongi jumped on his feet, hissing and growling as if he could scare the employee away while pressing himself onto a corner. The employee simply pressed a button to elongate the stick a little and then pressed it against Yoongi’s flank. The hybrid collapsed immediately a desperate, painful sound escaping him. His eyes were open when the employee opened the door but his whole body was motionless except for little tremors that ran through him. The employee didn’t talk to Yoongi when he approached him, didn’t explain what he was doing, instead he solely talked to Namjoon while treating the hybrid like some object. He took out a little syringe from his pocket and injected it into the foxes’ body. Yoongi’s muscles went lax and his eyes dropped.

“He will be a little drowsy but it will only be like this for an hour or two so you can get him home safely. I would advise you to use a chain to fixate him somewhere in the house until he got used to his new home.” While he was talking he changed Yoongi’s collar to a sturdier one, clipping the leash in place. “Don’t take the muzzle off without fixating his head or else he might bite.” He put a black mask made of thick leather over Yoongi’s face and fixated it at the back of the hybrid’s head. “You can get a sample pack of hybrid food with your purchase if you want or we also have leaflets on barf diets.”

Namjoon gasped, pushing a hand onto his mouth when he saw how they treated the poor hybrid. He gulped heavily, trying not think about it too much right now but just wanting to take him home with him, promise him that he wouldn’t ever hurt him like that. “No, that’s all I need.” Grabbing the bag filled with the stuff the other had gotten for him, apparently all kinds of accessory he needed to take care of a hybrid, Namjoon reached for the leash. He didn’t thank him, but instead walked ahead with furrowed brows and shaking hands. Mumbling to himself, Namjoon kept peeking over his shoulder where Yoongi was stumbling after him. He couldn’t believe, he just did that. He paid a good amount of money for a hybrid that was probably ready to bite him any second, when all he wanted was a soft kitten. The ride home was calm, the fox dozing off a few times, while Namjoon was battling his worries and doubts and if this was the best or the worst decision he’d ever made.

A/N: Another sweet little story ;) Of course the PirateAU will keep on coming weekly, just as this story - only that this one is divided into shorter chapters for the sweet fluff inbetween when you need a break from all our angst lmao anyways... I hope you enjoyed it!!! Don’t forget to leave us a comment or message on how you liked it! ❤

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[flashfictionforpittance]

Cirque De La catastrophe Itinérante

(Requested by Anon, who contributed ideas for most of the main characters, plus some ideas for scenes, some of which sadly couldn’t make it into the finished story.)

Valeria blinked. The inside of the crate currently passing as her coffin stared back, with its yellow sticker that marked fragile contents cutting through the dim light. Previously, it'd sat on the outside, but they'd flipped the lid so she'd have something to look at. Lyca's suggestion. Not one of his better ideas, but they couldn't all be winners. 

Val slid the lid off with her fingertips, and escaped in a fine mist into her room where she reformed like a shadow being restored after a flicker of light. She stretched up, her fingertips brushing against the shallow, tented ceiling, her joints cracking like glow-sticks. 

Her room left a lot to be desired these days. As Val stepped carefully around it, reminding her limbs and digits how to move like the living's, she absorbed the ramshackle boudoir that her family had tried their hardest to make cosy in their daylight hours. The drapes were moth-eaten and the rug was full of what Jaya called "schmutz,"- hairs and crumbs and dirt and the like. She had a suspicion one of the lycanthropes had donated it. The cobwebs on the wooden panels that served as walls weren't a problem. The termites were. Val's good coffin, permanently sequestered in a secure storage unit in the city until the infestation was dealt with, seemed awfully far away during these long days in the crate, spent tossing and turning and trying to keep the splinters out of her skin. 

But still. Val clicked her fingers and blue smoke broke out their tips like she'd used them to snuff out a match, billowing out first like a ribbon, then a cloud, then a river, winding around her curves, her bare shoulders with the textbook pin holes at the base of the neck, over the voluptuous hips, all the way to the ankles where it trailed off, then  hardened into a purple gown that clung to her as she slid her feet into her heels, pressed her day-hat over her curls, and strode out of her bedroom door. 

Beyond? Chaos. Hell. An utter travesty of a circus, new in town and fatally unprepared with half its acts still hungover from the bickering and fatigue so symptomatic of months on the road, and only two hours until their debut. 

Val stepped into the hall, and was met immediately with a small ocean of knee-high clowns that was crowding the tented hallway. She towered over row upon row of the pint-sized performers, each one wearing the same baggy trousers, wide-collared shirts, harlequin makeup, and the exact same expression, that being of absolute dread. 

"Gentlemen," said Val, her voice well exercised in careful diplomacy. "to what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning?"

"Out," rumbled Iggy, their spokesman. Almost identical to his two scores of brothers, Iggy was notable for his open collar, which constantly displayed the deep scarring on his chest. This too was identical to the others, who kept theirs hidden. "Oleg's at it again."

"Oh my," Val pressed her fingertips to her forehead, pretending to nurse a migraine. "what's our lead harlequin done now?" She didn't have to guess. But who knew, maybe this time-

"Your senior clown has eaten another..." Iggy began and trailed off, the haughtiness that'd overcome his fear now subsiding as his brothers paled in unison. He beckoned Val to bend over. She bent, inhaling their collective smog of cologne and cigarette smoke. "another unattended."

Oh well. Maybe one day he'd surprise her. "Ugh," Val swept her hand back over her forehead, watching for the nods of approval from within the small crowd that'd amassed around her. "my stars. Don't worry, my faithful clowns. I'll see Oleg remanded for this," she straightened Iggy's bow tie for him, grazing a finger against the stark-white flesh beneath his collar, and those scars that so closely resembled letters. "I give you my word. Oleg has taken this too far. He'll be dealt with swiftly and without prejudice."

It wasn't that she'd be doing nothing. But that Iggy was more placatable than he let on. Which is why he didn't quite protest as she stepped over him, and headed down the hall. If she kept moving fast enough, by the time he caught up with her she might just have figured out how to keep him and his entourage around. She snapped her fingers again as she walked and pulled a thin purple thread out of nothing, which thickened into a long cigarette holder. She plucked a cigarette out from behind her ear and slotted it into the end, snapped again to light it, and took a long drag. She should already tell it would be a long day. 

The physical body of the circus was that of an octopus; the Big Top where they entertained guests was at the very centre, with its tented tendrils curling all over the rented field it was occupying, each limb branching into rooms for sleeping, eating, feeding, casting, summoning, sinning, and generally sharpening one's skills. It was a nightmare to put the whole thing up, she was told. 

Between Val's room and the Big Top there was just one other space- the mess hall, where all the acts came to share space, relax, and enjoy one another's company. In theory. If the mood of the circus could be emblemized in one location, it was here. And perhaps symbolically, it was empty and showed signs of recent chaos; the four long benches were overturned, bowls of stew spattered all over them, the ground, and the purple-pinstriped tenting that enclosed them. The table from which Kook, (the circus' former magician,) usually dished out whatever he could remember the recipe for, was split in two, the vat upturned and a waterfall of what resembled mutton making its slow, congealed journey to the floor. On the other side of the table, Kook was was trembling on the floor, hands raised above his head like he was deflecting projectiles. He'd disappeared into his own top hat a while back, was gone for a whole year, and didn't come out quite the same. He started at the sound of Val's voice, looking around like he didn't recognise where he was. 

"What's gone on, Mr Kook?" she asked. 

He blinked up at her, eyes bloodshot. "Oh, this? 'Tis strange, isn't it ma'am?" he looked furtively around, as if waking suddenly from a nightmare. "I can't rightly say I know. I-It's rather fuzzy, ma'am."

Val crouched beside him. "I see. Do you remember anything at all?" he hadn't been drinking- at least, Val couldn't smell it on him. Sadly. If he'd been the culprit this whole thing could've been over then and there. 

The magician's forehead creased with effort, the dark circles under his eyes deepening as a sigh escaped his gritted teeth. "I, well. I was here, dishing up as you do. Those Cat Creatures were griping about the food, though that's nothing new. Probably on the prowl for a fight, cos' Jaya and Eucaria made an e-exit when they came in- or was it just Eucaria? Could've just been her, though I'm sure Jaya left too-"

"Kook," said Val in her least impatient voice. "Please, try to focus on what happened in here."  

"S-sorry sir-Ma'am, I mean, Mrs Ma'am, Ms Ma'am Sir," he paused for a moment to collect himself. You could see the colour leave his face, draining out as if a valve had opened. "I think it all went funny when the Lycanthropes arrived. Yeah, I remember a lot of growling, lots of smashing. And gnashing. Then something hit my head, and t-then," he gestured loosely at the sky. "Fairies. But that's nothing new. They always show up after a disaster."

"Shit," hissed Val. "I thought all the shapeshifters had reached an understanding? Tonight's act has been months in the mati- making...I don't suppose you know what caused it?"

Kook shrugged. "Who knows with them. They're more beast than human on most days, aren't they? Giving me dirty looks, sharpenin' their claws on the furniture, leaving rabbit pelts all over the place. Filthy werewolves, were-cats, all of them," a frantic look overcame his eyes.

"Kook," snapped Val. "Enough. We don't speak of others in that way in my Circus. Do you know where they went?"

"Big Top," said Kook, suddenly sullen. "they're saying the act's off- all the couples have broken off too; Vinnie and Trisha, Ellie and Claire, even the two Johnny's. Saying they'll never perform together again."

Val stood up and adjusted her hat. "I'll be the one to make that assessment." She left Kook to his mumbling. The short walk between the mess hall and the Big Top was enough to send tonight's trajectory from bad to worse; long tears split the tent on both sides and above. Scraps of fur, some sleek, some shaggy, gathered in clumps among the grass underfoot, and as Val broke through the curtained doorway into the Big Top, a cacophony of yowls and howls pierced her eardrums. The wide circle of bleachers bordering the room served as the colosseum for the latest pandemonium, as two gangs of leather clad teenage heartthrobs, one half rough and ragged, the other sharp and deadly, stared each other down in the loudest way possible, jeering and spitting and hissing and growling and  holding each other back. The groups were about fifteen people strong apiece, and at the forefront of each, foreheads practically glued together, were two boys. Well, men. But everyone was a child when you had a couple of centuries under your belt. 

"You housecats aren't going anywhere till you tell me who went after Tycho," snarled  the shorter of the two, the leader of the scruffy lot who more than fit the model himself. Dark haired and what the young people would call 'dreamy,' his face was contorted with rage as he shouted, "you pussies want to pick a fight? I'm right here! Why fight a kid when you can face the whole pack? All you gotta do it tell me who did it!"

The other leader, a broad lion of a man maned with immaculately combed hair, rumbled back, "I don't respond to violence, or threats. You should know that by now, Lyca. Yourself and these mongrels should get out of here while you've still got some dignity left." 

"Then it's off," snapped Lyca. He pulled back and shook his head. "You can kiss the whole act goodbye. Nobody wants to see a bunch'a stuck up lions do ballet for an hour. You've got no skill, no perseverance, all you've got is your goddamn pride," he spat the word like it tasted foul, eyeing the rest of the Cat Creatures. He gestured at his grumbling posse " Come on, everyone. Lee the Lionheart can't even squeeze and apology out of his little harem. We've got better things to do than watch that travesty try to carry out a routine." Though he was less than half Lee's size, his effortless beauty and powerful voice made him quite the formidable leader. It was like watching a Jack Russell face off with a Great Dane. 

"Typical werewolf," said a woman at Lee's side. "time wasters. No patience. Full of bravado. It's not like we even needed you anyway, Lee's the one with all the ideas, you people are just hired muscle. In fact," she chuckled. "I'm pretty sure breaking it off is the only original idea you've had yet," some of the other Cat Creatures heckled their agreement. Lee nodded. 

"Fuck you," said Lyca. The rest of the pack echoed the sentiment. 

"Ahem," Val's voice  was like a shock wave. The tension snapped at once as they all turned on their heels to attention. Pack mentality. One of the rare pluses of employing shapeshifters. "Am I to understand that there's been a falling out?" Sometimes, Valeria wished she could just get to the point. But, that was unbecoming. 'Take your time when you speak,' her mother had once told her, 'too fast, and people will think you're trying to sell them something.'

"The Cat Creatures went too far this time, Ma'am," said Lyca, desperate to get the first word in. "they went after Tycho, they smashed his face in and robbed him. A kid, ma'am. They called him- what was it, Tycho?"he called over his shoulder. 

A thin boy of about eighteen stepped forward. His crimson nose wore his double-black eyes as a pair of wings, a butterfly of bruises resting on his face. He stared at his feet as he spoke, not really addressing anyone. "A leg-humpin' bitch. A mongrel. They said they were gonna neuter me, said they'd bury my..." He was turning crimson. Val averted her eyes, feeling her stomach growl. "my nuts in the woods, feed 'em to Oleg."

That damn clown again. "I see. And what was this about stolen property?"

"We didn't steal-" began one of the Cat Creatures- one of the two Johnny's so recently divorced. She quieted him with a look. Her nerves were getting twitchier by the minute, her cigarette burning closer to her skin.

"A jacket, three CD's, and a bat," said Lyca. "Personal items that they have no reason to take except to screw with him. And look at Tycho's nose. If he were human they could've killed him!"

"Please, Lyca," said Val, raising a palm. "be patient. Tell me Lee, you refute these claims?"

The Lionheart spoke slow and patient, but didn't take his eyes off Lyca. "You can't prove it was my people. There were no witnesses. I've asked everyone. I have no other evidence than the boy's word- and we all know that he and Sheila ended things recently. He has every motivation for wanting to start a war,``he cracked his knuckles. Val knew him well enough to understand his temper, but still. Next to everyone else he was a behemoth, a wall of a man who'd knock your bones out before you knew you'd been hit. "I won't be condemning anyone based on his testimony."

"I'm not lying!" yelled Tycho, his voice breaking. "look at my face, who the hell would do this except you?"

"Please!" yelled Val, bringing them back in line. "These accusations are disturbing. And I want everyone here to understand that as of tomorrow, I'll be aiding these two in finding out precisely what has happened, and putting an end to this childishness" she panned her gaze across the two crowds, watching for anxious faces. More than a few on each side couldn't hold it. Lyca and Lee were both getting a little red as well. "You two. I'll be speaking to you separately. I hope you all understand the severity of attacking another member of this troupe, or indeed lying in order to instigate it. However, we have a show to run, and precious little time to be at each other's throats. So in the meantime, tell me, couldn't the Cats simply reimburse the Wolves for-" she felt a tugging at her dress. It was about time. She looked down. 

"Ma'am," squeaked Iggy. The clowns in his congregation nodded politely.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I thought you'd be Eucaria. What is it that you need, sir?"

He frowned. "To be released from our contract. As we attempted to discuss this morning-" a loud clap broke the silence behind Val. Followed by a brief pause, bated breath, then a crescendo of thumping and yelling and hissing as the wolves and the cats started on each other. "Is now a good time?" asked Iggy, eyes widening at the discord behind her. 

It was not. And where on earth was Eucaria? Val scanned the circular room; people were coming in and out, sitting in little pockets watching the drama unfold, or conferring, or practising, or watching from the bleachers. Her daughter and second in command rarely failed to gravitate towards trouble, and Val had the feeling her input would be needed. "Excuse me," she said, once again stepping over the clowns. She counted back the hours since she'd last seen her daughter, then lost count as she bumped into Jaya, the Siren slash high-dive expert. A slip of a woman, only five feet tall, and always a little flushed. 

"Hiya Val," she smiled, before attempting to move on. 

Val very nearly let her go, before closing a vice-grip around her wrist as she remembered what Kook had said. "you haven't seen Euci, have you?" Val paused, remembered herself, released Jaya's arm, and cleared her throat. "S-sorry. She's rather late to the action this morning. Kook said he saw you with her?" 

"Hm. I saw her at dinner a few hours ago, I think," smiled Jaya. She was sometimes a little slow to recognise people's expressions. And too often she was too off in her own head to realise when a crisis was going on. "But then the Cat Creatures started getting pissy with each other and we left. They made us both pretty uncomfortable.  I Haven't seen her since," her eyes widened as the proverbial penny dropped. "Is everything ok?"

"Oh it's fine, I'm sure she's around somewhere," lied Val. "But I don't suppose I could ask Jacques?" the siren's boyfriend. He was more observant than her, though less than half as social. 

"Sure thing," Jaya opened her mouth, her lips stretching wider, her jaw clicking as it parted and opened into a hole as big as a dinner plate. Inside, her oesophagus was just as wide, smelling faintly of salt water, and far, far down inside, Val could see Jacques, curled up with a book in the pit of her empty stomach. He removed his glasses, looked up, and waved. 

"Evening ma'am," he said. His voice met Val's ears in what could only be described as a wet echo. "what's up?"

"Good evening Jacques," Val called back down. "Have you seen or heard of Eucaria recently? She's absent."

"'Fraid not," he called back. "I haven't heard her, anyway. Is everything ok?"

"Yes, thank you. See you at tonight's performance," Val closed Jaya's mouth quickly, just in case he had more bad news for her. "T-thank you, Jaya," she said, before pulling away and rushing into one of the nearby hallways, this one arterial to the rooms. Inside, streams of fairy lights sputtered and blinked in crossroads between the rooms, winking off and on again as Val passed under them. She was getting dizzy. She braced herself against the wall for a moment, waiting for it to pass. 

"You ok?" 

Val jumped. She looked around. Then down. Muriel's broad hat lifted for her eyes to blink back, the dark circles under them giving the constant impression that she was tired of everyone's shenanigans.

"Not quite," said Val. Her hand reached down to pat Muriel on the head and landed on her own knee, a mite colder than before. Muriel didn't point out the obvious- people had been trying to pat that little noggin for decades. Ghosts were, as it turns out, surprisingly hesitant to remind you they were dead. "Have you seen Euci?" No sense in putting on a show. Muriel had more years behind that tiny face than even you'd expect, though she possessed size, features, and appropriate cuteness to a seven year old. 

"She's probably with Ole-Spiderlegs," said Muriel. "She was having a meltdown this evening and wouldn't let anyone see her. If you're going in there,  I suggest telling her she's pretty. And a treasure to the troupe. And young, don't forget young," she counted off the necessary interactions on her fingers and rolled her eyes. Eternal rest was clearly nothing of the sort. 

"Thank you," said Val, feeling the strength return to her bones. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"Almost. I need to attune my wand and burn some sage to purify the ring, plus I need to summon a spirit. Not a strong one, just an assistant. . But you're not really listening. Dispense with the niceties and go find your daughter before you pass out, you sentimental bat."

"What did you just say?" Val blinked and Muriel was gone. "Darnit."

Eucaria didn't look up as Val entered the dressing room, ducking under a low-hanging stream of fairy lights that buzzed as she passed. The perpetual haze of smoke that encompassed her daughter's face simply muttered, "Tell her she's pretty." Nevertheless, Val still groped through the smog until her hands alighted on Euci's too-soft face. Just to make sure.

"Tiffany, my love, you're a vision," said Val, turning to look over her shoulder to speak to the older woman who was peering over the top of an ornamental screen. Behind it the gymnast's silhouette narrowed to a waspy waist, then expanded into a bulbous shadow from which eight legs protruded, each one busying itself with some unseen task below decks. "I should know. I've been performing for over a century and I haven't seen a treasure such as you. And no-one who didn't doubt themselves at one time or another, I might add." Val pulled a well-earned cigarette from thin air and pressed the tip against the end of Euci's cigar, then inhaled deeply. 

The woman peering over the screen was indeed beautiful. In her day, she was even breathtaking. But after a few decades of better healthcare and more diverse breeding, today's beauties were beginning to surpass even hers, fluoride toothpaste and moisturiser landing them a few rungs higher on that ladder. And Ole' Spiderlegs, IE Tiffany, wasn't the sharpest when it came to books, but she knew beauty and lack thereof like the back of her hand. 

"Don't say things just because," she quothed. In addition to her legs, she had a pair of normal human arms on her torso, one of which she used to tuck a scarlet lock of hair behind her ear while using the other to massage her forehead.  "I'm not feeling it today. Not at all," behind the screen, a spidery leg passed a garment into one of her hands, and she lobbed it over the top and onto the pandemonium that covered the floor. Clothes, empty bottles of hairspray, distressed makeup brushes, and more than a few dead flies. It wasn't any wonder nobody else used this room. "why am I still doing this? Flaunting myself in front of lookie-loos while my youth drains out of me like a submarine losing oxygen?"

"Thinking of unfreezing that egg sack again?" asked Val. "You were quite set on it last week."

"And two months before that," added Euci, her cloud of smoke sparking as she took another drag on her cigar. "maybe you should do it now?"

Tiffany sighed. "A little magnum opus, yes. Scuttering all over the lace, little balls of life, then, suddenly, away on the wind on a little stream of silk, scattered all over the earth. But still, you know they're out there. Part of you. Like one big web encompassing the world."

"It sounds positively nightmarish, dear," said Val. "and by all means, tomorrow we can discuss the affair in detail. But we have a show to do. And without our gymnast, it wouldn't be much of one. We've," she cleared her throat. "We've already lost the shapeshifter act."

"Shit," cussed Eucaria. "I knew something was wrong this morning. The Cat Creatures were all on edge. They were all bunched together in the mess hall, being all rotten with everyone. I should've seen this coming. Have you heard, mother?"

"Heard what, my love?"

"Lee and Lyca broke up. It happened last night, not sure exactly when, but it wasn't pretty. Lyca was getting jealous again, I think."

"I thought that might be the case," sighed Val. "that recent wolf, Tycho, has already had his face caved in for his leader's sake. Doubtless the Cat Creatures went for him to get under Lyca's skin. You see, Tiffany?" She pointed her attention back at the gymnast, who'd stopped to listen to the gossip, and now busied herself behind the screen. "We're in chaos. Without you, there is no show left to perform."

"I'm too old," insisted Spiderlegs, popping her head up. Her silhouette shrugged. "what's the use? It's not like anyone here's ever going to make the big time. We're just eye candy- no, eye horseradish, there to test what normal people can stomach to look at. Why not settle down for a few months, maybe even a few years, and raise some little spiders?"

"You know," said Euci, removing her cigar for a moment so she could look at Tiffany properly. "You could do both. Like mother did," Eucaria was all her father's child. From rotting toe to decaying tip, from ruddy nose and round face, to the raggedy dress-shirt she always wore,  she was Earnest. Her undead-ness was one of the few things she'd inherited from her mother. In a way. Albeit, hers was of a different, more zombie-like nature. "Aren't working mothers a thing now? It's not like you perform every day."

Tiffany bit her lip. Val smiled. "Why yes, Euci and I manage that lifestyle very well. Even before Euci's transformation, I nursed a human child in one arm and ran a successful circus with another. Surely you, with eight whole legs, could do the same?"

"Of course I could," said Tiffany. "But, I'm wary..."

"Of?" 

"Nothing. It can wait. I'll discuss it with you after tonight's performance." She ducked down again and sat haughtily on her abdomen. Val felt a crease of anxiety smooth itself out in her head. One of these days, they'd call Tiffany's bluff, and she'd actually go for it. But this profession taught you to take things one day at a time. Val cupped her daughter's face in her hands. It wasn't, by appearance, that much older than Muriel's. But while the latter had many centuries behind it, this one had barely reached its first. The sallow skin, pierced by a pair of sharp blue eyes that could cut glass with their wit, so like her father's. If anything could make Val's dead heart move, it was her. 

"How is everything? Did you meet with the Cuban?" She asked. 

Euci nodded, cigar waggling between her teeth. "Yup. Threw in a box of cigars, too. Hell of a guy. Can only hope his dynamite doesn't taste this good." The girl's childish voice was tinted with the chain-smoker's growl, and in their travels had picked up odds and ends of idioms and turns of phrase that Val could only sometimes understand. 

Val blew a smoke ring toward her daughter, which Euci broke apart with her own exhalation. "Good, good. Come, I need your help; the shapeshifters need sorting out, and Oleg's at it again- oh my," one of Eucaria's ears was sliding down the side of her head. Like a decaying snail exploring her face. It was already nearing her jawline. "your ear, darling."

"It's OK," Eucaria plucked it off, some hair-thin strings of what was still an unidentified goo pulling away with it. Beneath, the flesh was stark white and budded like cauliflower. "Darn thing keeps coming off. Hasn't been the same since Paris. I'm pretty sure there are still bits of me stuck to the Eiffel Tower."

"I don't know how many shows that's got left," mused Val. "Perhaps it's time to retire it?"

Euci sighed and kicked a brassier across the floor, where it dinged mutely against an ornamental vase, ornament ally filled with dead flowers as it had been for days. "Not like we have any spares lying around."

"Hold that thought."

Val wasn't proud of it. Oleg wasn't a colleague as much as he was a liability. She often wondered why she kept him in the act, but for some reason, that particular fire was one of the few that she never got around to putting out. Though it did, from time to time, consume an unaccompanied child. 

"Sure are a lot of bones around here," said Euci, picking a bit of cartilage from between her toes. They surrounded the area like a ring of chalk; the furthest out were bleached white by the sun, while the closest were still bloody and clinging to viscera. They were a good mile away from the circus, on the border of the woods that framed the massive field they'd managed to claim. This was Oleg's agreed distance, maintained all day every day, except for showtime. He'd taken up residence in the hollow of an oak tree, a hole in its base marking the entrance to what in theory should have only been a closet-sized space. That said, Val had never been tempted to see inside. Even with the sun directly above it, those with the courage to come and stare had assured her that no light could penetrate the darkness. 

"Indeed," she said, fiddling with a stray lock of hair that had escaped from her hat. "remember what I said, Euci. Don't look at him for too long."

"Mum," assured Eucaria, "we'll be fine. He wouldn't dare. Not like I'm fresh meat anyway. Plus, it'd be way more trouble than it's worth, plus he's probably still bloated from-" her head snapped to attention, pigtails whipping across her face, face frozen, alert, and trained on the yellow eyes that were cutting through the black pit of the hollow. Nothing else. Just two gold coins with a black slit down the middle. Watching. 

"Oh don't frrrrrett, dear," seethed a voice that pulled the hairs on Val's neck to stand to attention, that made her skin squirm beneath her clothes as if in retreat. The dusk felt duller, dimmer, and smelled of sour meat. "p-plenty of live meat d-d-down here. Wanna seee?" 

"We need an ear," said Val, stepping into the clown's line of sight. "Now. A fresh one."

"D-d-don't mama got better things ta' be doin? I h-hear the menagerie's havin' a domestic. L-little Lyca's L-l-little brother got roughed up by his abominable boyfriend, ay?"

"Mind your own business," piped up Eucaria, stepping around her mother and jutting out her chin. Her sallowness was that much paler, but her voice was even. "And quit eating unattended kids. This isn't the city. People don't just go missing without being noticed, and if they come for us, I'll make sure they come for you."

"We'll allow it this once, given it's convenient," agreed Val, "but once more and you're on your own. Remember America? One more missing child and you'll be back in that recycling plant where we found you. And stop scaring the other performers- it's hard enough to keep a show running without a cannibal on the premises."

"T-t-those clowns whining again?" the air around the hollow swam and the roots of the tree snapped and squealed, writhing beneath the ground in complaint. Oleg's voice rose. "pathetic little sorcerer. With his flesh puppets,  not a friend in the world, so why not be your own? You know, that's why the others-"

"Ear," said Val, raising her voice over his, feeling the breeze billow around her in support. "Now." her hair whipped over her shoulder. The sparks from her cigarette drifted in the air between her face and Oleg's, neither of them breaking their stare. 

"Aright mama V," groaned Oleg. "If only so's I can eat the little dead thing's old one. Howzabout it, cannonball corpse? Or did ya blow it off chewin' on a stick a dynamite?" he looked at Euci. 

Val's spine drew up and her teeth set on edge. Euci flicked her old ear into the hollow. "You'll perform tonight," she said, lowering her tone. "You'll act nice, too. Or I'll let mother down there with you."

"Indeed," Val held the clown's gaze, grinding her teeth. "we'll see what position you're in to make jokes then."

Without another word, the clown's eyes faded into the darkness. A few moments passed, then with a wet thump a disk flopped out of the hollow and landed in front of Eucaria, who turned it over in her hand. "Mostly intact," she said. "prolly from someone a lil older than me. But it'll do fine if we can stitch it good enough, though I guess it's a little pink. Might make it hard to-"

Everything went quiet. Eucaria kept speaking- or, rather, her mouth kept moving. But everything, from the wind in the trees to the churn of traffic from the not distant enough highway, was muted. Then, slowly, from the depths of Val's eardrum, came a ringing. And the sun rose behind them, its light screaming across the grass and overwhelming Val like a shadow disappearing with the lighting of a candle. 

"How?" she gasped voicelessly, dropping to her knees, stunned. Watching it, she saw a yellow ball of fire consume the sky above the Big Top, swirling like a whirlpool, streaks of light fanning out like tantruming arms. The great and horrifying sight that all vampires dreaded, the source of all life that turned against them when they turned undead, stared her down with its divine judgement. 

Something was off. She wasn't dead, for one thing. She hadn't been reduced to lilac ash and scattered in the breeze. She didn't even feel warm, actually. And though it'd been longer than most lifetimes since she'd seen it, she didn't recall the sun smelling quite so much like burning sage. 

The ringing in her ears had reached a kettle-like screech, only now subsiding as Euci helped her to her feet and held her limbs steady as the shock wore off. The ball of light dispersed into evening gloom, and from the Big Top a shock-wave blew out in all directions and hit them with a gale-force wind filled with screaming laughter. Then all was quiet. The highway's gentle purr rose and fell steadily and undisturbed. Looking back at the Big Top, a scorched hole in the roof glared at the sky as if to accuse it. And even from here, you could hear the shrieking of the people inside. 

Val sighed. "Bugger."

Arriving back at the Big Top was like stepping into the eye of a hurricane. For the whole walk back, screams and moans and complaints had echoed over the field, and now, in the middle of their source, Val felt strangely calm. Everything was so spectacularly broken, that there was no sense of urgency. The worst had happened; the middle of the ring was blackened and twinkling like the night with all the glass that'd been shattered when Muriel summoned her spirit, with which she was currently arguing amongst the ruins of her alchemy set. Almost the entire troupe had filed in and around the edges of the ring, keeping a wide perimeter around the discord. The whole place stank of sulphur, and the air above them was dense with flickering lights of every colour that squeaked and nipped in your ears as you walked through them. Fairies. They loved drama. Jaya and Jacques were putting out the still smouldering tent walls, and more than a few of the other performers, while Lyca and Lee were balancing two separate head counts at the same time, trying to make sure nobody had gone missing and be cross with each other at the same time. Tiffany was doing her best to apply first aid to Iggy's swarm of clowns, but she only had so many legs to spare. The resident strongwoman, Bhumika, was lifting shattered furniture out of the way while Ba'al, the lizard-skinned fire eater quicky sucked up whatever stray embers remained. 

"I'll get the ghost," said Euci. "you check the damages," she set off before Val could protest, elbowing her way through the forest of knees to the ring. Valeria looked about her for a wound to heal or fire to douse, but her attention pulled like a magnet back to her daughter as she walked over to Muriel, and the immense spirit above her. She felt that guttural pull, the maternal urge you get when a child falls over or cries out in pain, plucking at her nerves like a harp. But Euci was made of sterner stuff than other children. Which was good, because she certainly wasn't made of harder stuff. 

The spirit above Muriel flourished like a peacock's tail, furl upon furl of ethereal light in all the colours of the spectrum blossoming in a circular fan shape, and floating in the centre was a human body doused in emulsion, such an emaciated figure that its blue-white skin seemed too big for it. It blinked at its audience with eyes as black as a pond at midnight, and smiled toothily. It swam in the air like a jellyfish, undulating its fan as it drifted down to meet Eucaria, and outstretched its hands, clawed with black nails filed to a fine point. Euci declined the embrace with a quick step back, and addressed Muriel. 

"I told you this would happen. The spirits back in your tent are perfectly good, ya know."

"I know," the witch sounded exhausted. She reached out to lean against Euci, then stumbled as she fell through. "Dammit."

Eucaria sighed. "For someone who's already seen death you certainly like to dance with it a lot," she addressed the spirit. "name?"

The spirit tilted its bulbous head and twisted in ways that, while Valeria wasn't sure in her undead state, she was pretty certain most bone structures didn't allow. Its head turned back like an owl's, its elbows inverted. It hissed, baring its needly teeth. "SSSatisssfaction," it beckoned Euci with its nail. "Disssord."

Eucaria held up her hands. "No thanks. Enough of that on a regular day. Name?"

The spirit blinked. Then said in a death rattle, "Vivāda, the-"

"Vivāda, huh?" Euci interrupted. "Need a job?"

The spirit didn't answer. It tilted its head and pulled back, eyes fixed on her. Val felt a little tug. She couldn't stand the thing. If ever she'd felt compelled to crush something between her fingers until its life was eviscerated, this was it. 

"It's just, since you're here," said Eucaria, to the crushing silence that'd fallen over the room. "We didn't mean to get you, see? We wanted...?" She gestured at Muriel. 

The witch removed her hat and scratched the back of her head. "Samedi."

"Right, we wanted Samedi. Not you. But you're here and I don't think my friend," she gestured at Muriel. "has much left in her today. Would be a real shame to let you go to waste, though, so-" Euci didn't finish. The colours in the spirit's fan bled into red, and the edges quivered. The pale thing stretched a long fingernail out to Eucaria's face, close enough to shave the decaying skin from her forehead, while the other hand wafted through Muriel as if trying to clutch at something. Muriel looked mortified; the girl who'd seen death in all its forms, the girl with nothing left to fear, was doubting the validity of those statements for the very first time. Val's stomach was tying itself into a Devil's knot. 

Vivāda's voice cut through the crowd the way a slamming door cuts through a child eavesdropping on their parents' argument. The way gunfire splits the calm of a silent night. The way bad news breaks through the routine of your day, extending it by hours and withering your plans as they fall by the wayside. "You didn't call for dissssscord? For Vivāda, the Defiler?"

Val ran at the ring. She'd been so stupid. Eucaria didn't know a vengeful spirit from her best friend. She'd never seen an angry monster before, only the ones she'd known forever, and those claws weren't real to her, not yet. They wouldn't be, not until they cut her to ribbons. 

Like a child plucking a doll out of its house the spirit swept Euci into the air with its placid hand clasped around her throat, surging upwards and squealing like a kettle while its fan swirled and bubbled and smoked. Val couldn't see her daughter's expression, just her feet dangling limply as the thing pulled her face close to its own, and she felt her insides twist in fear. 

Val collided with a burning wall. For a moment, it was like she'd walked into a beam of sunlight, but when it threw her onto her back in the dirt with the force of a stubborn bull, she guessed otherwise. Lee pulled her to her feet like she weighed nothing and pointed to the powdery line on the floor, then followed its path around the ring. Salt. A ring of protection to keep unholy things coming in or out. A rule that applied to about forty percent of the circus. Including herself. 

She looked on helplessly as Vivāda spiked her daughter, threw her to the floor like a damsel smashing a vase. Euci's bones applauded as she made contact, a cacophony of cracks and grinds as she skidded along the dirt, leaving one arm in her wake as she finally ground to a halt. Muriel looked at her, aghast. Then up at the spirit. She began to wave her wand so fast it blurred into a grey shimmer in front of her. Sparks and spears and balls of light flew up and encircled the ghost as it languished like a poisoned snake above them, spitting curses upon them in a language that sounded like chewing nails, singing its skin against the invisible barrier around the ring. It twisted one way and a gale blew in through the hole in the roof, driving the spells back to the ground where they crashed and flashed and crescendo-ed around Euci. It twisted the other and a blade of wind flashed in front of Muriel, knocking her wand out of the ring. 

Val couldn't hear her own voice. She only knew she'd said anything when Bhumika , bounded past her and punted the ground at the edge of the ring, salt flying up among clumps of dirt. Then she clasped her hands around her mouth, open and still crying for someone to do something, anything, and ran to Euci's side. 

The thing about your first and only child being undead, is that you have absolutely no idea whether they're properly dead; you can't sense a pulse, or time their breathing, or check for blood loss. You just wait. Next to the mortified ghost of her best friend, who despite her many, many years of seniority on both you and your child, has never been terrific in a crisis. 

"I...I, I thought she'd...be able to..." Muriel waved her hand in front of her face with closed eyes, trying to get her morse code of a sentence out. "you know, uh..." she shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know." She stood up and staggered away to stand beside Lee as he watched, who reached down to pat her head then thought better of it. He kneeled down to speak to her, offering low words of comfort. 

Tiffany's many hands were hard at work over Eucaria; two held her upright, two were picking through the dust to find scraps of her right arm, which for the sake of hysteria was currently protected from view by the next two that were holding up a sheet between it and Val. The last two were tidying Euci's face. Pulling hair out of the way, checking her position, tidying her up. Tiffany had seen a lot in her time, they'd been told. Enough to know how to...adjust a person for whom the worst might be on its way. She was a firm believer that if death were to come for you, the last thing you'd want is to look like a mess. 

Val slapped the leg currently fixing Euci's hair. "Stop it." Tiff didn't ask. She took her hands away and busied them in her useless first aid box. What could that do? Val scowled at it. "What can that thing do for her?" she felt like a cherry about to be crushed between a set of teeth. Set to burst. 

"Be patient," said Ba'al, who'd come over to help in what little way he could. He was only about two feet tall, with spiralling red horns protruding from a crimson forehead. The rest of him, though red, was perfectly normal looking. He knelt beside Euci, pursed his lips, and gently blew a warm breeze over her face. He continued, "remember Mexico? The crazy stuff they let us do there? You gave her those cigars, the real thick ones that smelled of chocolate? We didn't think she'd ever wake up."

"The cigars didn't hurl her around like a doll,"

"No," mumbled Euci. "But you do, like, every week."  While she didn't exactly spring up, the voice alone soothed every tense nerve in Val's body. Her daughter's eyes blinked open, and she moved her shoulders as if to push herself up, then stopped, and nodded up at Tiffany. "Cheers Tiff."

Spiderlegs stroked her cheek with her thumb. "No problem."

Val bent down and kissed her on the forehead, then rested her own against it. "One of these days you'll have to stop doing that to me."

"No deal. Did you cry?"

"Yes, my love."

"Was it ugly?"

"Yes."

"Great. Also, in other news, my right arm is...everywhere, right now? I feel like there are parts of me all over the place."

Muriel reappeared by Euci's side and fell to her knees. The brim of her hat hid most of the feelings shared, but her voice was mournful. "I'm so sorry, Euci. I should have just used one of my old spirits. I didn't even need Samedi. Now look at you, look what that thing's done-" she paused mid soliloquy. "Wait. Where...where is it?"

They all looked around. "I mean, don't ask me," said Euci. "I was taking a dirt nap."

Lee's shadow encompassed all four of them. "It escaped through that hole in the ceiling," he boomed. "as soon as the circle was broken."

"Did you see where it went?" asked Ba'al, suddenly alert.

Lee shook his head. "But I believe it's still here. Lyca's pack say they can hear its voice nearby, on the grounds. But they're struggling to pinpoint where, I'm afraid- excuse me," he parted from them as one of his posse drew him away by the arm, to where a flustered Lyca was still trying to figure out who was accounted for.

"I'll deal with it,"Val chucked Eucaria under the chin. "Are you alright darling?"

"As alright as you'd expect," reassured Euci. 

"Then, forgive me, but I must see someone about an unwelcome guest. Do me a favour, Tiffany, and give her a...assist her in getting everyone patched up, will you?" 

"Of course."

They all got to their feet. Needless to say, a small crowd had gathered. "Right!" yelled Euci at the top of her lungs. "I need all the injured over here, plus you, Ba'al. Everyone else, help clean up the glass. And you two!" she pointed at Lyca and Lee, who within moments had managed to distract one another with furious whispers. "Mother needs a word."

Val took a breath as they approached, already red faced and staring at their feet. She let it out in seeps at first, alleviating the pressure of her temper word by word. "I'll make this brief," she said, recalling Euci's plan of attack she'd outlined not ten minutes ago on their walk back from Oleg's. "You promised me an act. I expect you to deliver one."

"But ma'am, he-" began Lee. 

"I don't care," she said. The Lionheart blinked. "Pardon my curtness, but I refuse to entertain this in-fighting any longer. Boys," she softened her tone. Counted to ten. "Love has its ins and outs. Fall apart if you must, but do you really want to take us with you? Your friends? The whole circus?" she gestured around. Ba'al chose that moment to leap back in surprise as a small fire erupted from a pile of charred furniture, quickly doused with a slough of water from Jaya that flooded the ground under the bleachers. "We're already in disarray. Don't make it a disaster."

"But Val," implored Lyca. "I can't let them get away with hurting Tycho. I just can't. He's just a kid."

"My love," Val cupped her hand around his cheek, resting her other on Lee's forearm, "tomorrow morning I'll do everything I can to find out what happened. But if we don't salvage something," she cleared her throat. "he'll be homeless. And you," she wagged a finger in front of Lee, warranting a smile that was quickly suppressed. "your pride won't mean much out on the streets, will it? Please boys. For me. Just pretend to love each other for the night, and tomorrow you can hate each other to your heart's content." She pulled away before they could protest, heading to through the entrance into the courtyard.  

The evening was well upon them now. Night air breathed life into Val as she took in the carnage; the ticket stand sequestered by the entrance was demolished, flits of scarlet paper scattered all over the grass, with Boo trapped in the centre, plucking them up with her nails. Madame Zostra's weeping was providing a soft baseline to support the crickets singing in the nearby fields. The grass in the courtyard stank of smoke and incense, and the air above Val's head was positively swarming with fairies. Kook wasn't wrong. They loved a good disaster. Never spoke or helped or interacted with the world beneath them, but with every emotional crescendo or clash, they'd fill the air to feed on the tension, then disappear.

"Having fun, Val?" asked Boo, stepping out of the ticket ring to greet her. "don't suppose you've met the vengeful spirit with the funny name, have you?"

Val laughed, pressing her fingers against her forehead's crowing creases. "So, you've met our guest for the evening. Are you ok?" Within the context of the circus, Boo was quite unique. In that she had two arms, two legs, a head, and a torso with a bunch of wet things stuffed inside that were utterly and incurably human. She bruised easily, was the point. 

"No less than usual," she replied, tying her hair back. It was freshly dyed, dripping violet water onto her collar. Lesser vampires found the living's appropriation of gothic or dusky elements into human fashion offensive. Val just found it pleasantly strange, like seeing a child dressed up as your profession for halloween. "Muriel making new friends in the ethereal plane?" Boo pointed her thumb up at the hole in the Big Top. 

"More like the ninth circle of Dante," chimed in Madame Zostra. She gathered herself from the ground, heaving up her many layers of patchwork dress with great effort, and dried her eyes. Her tented booth, designed to draw in lookie-loos, was knocked onto its side, easily the least permanent issue of the night. "My setup is ruined, Val. My tarot was fully cleansed, ready for the night, now it's trampled into mud. Do you have any idea how much salt I'll need to re-purify..." the hinges on Zostra's jaw squeaked as she spoke, and one of her eyes was pointing in the wrong direction. She was quite literally falling apart and had been for some time. Val made a note to find a new vessel for the fortune teller's spirit- this mannequin was on its last legs. Really, it was; they only had so many spares. 

Val raised a palm, smiling as kindly as she could. "Zoe. Too much. Too much has happened in one day, my darling, for me to do anything about this. Oleg has eaten someone, the clowns are striking thanks to him, the shapeshifters are at war, Kook is back on his bigotry, Tiff's having her fourth confidence crisis this month, we have a spirit of discord on the loose, and my daughter's just been used to score a touchdown. Plus, this," she gestured about her. "So please understand. I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't imperative. Use the ball."

If Zostra's nose could have wrinkled. "I told you not to open the show today. I told you it wasn't in the cards. Now look where it's landed us," she shook her head at the sky. "and that ball? It's defective. It predicts the future, but not the right one. Tell me," she turned to Boo. "Have you an aunt Phyllis?"

Boo shook her head. "Nope. My parents were only children."

"Well, if you'd had one, today she'd have fallen down some stairs and injured her hip. You'd have gone to care for her, and become close enough for her to show you her antique plate collection. She'd have become a great confidant for you."

"Uh, cool? Thanks?" Boo looked desperately at Val. "So it shows you stuff that isn't true?"

"Oh, it's true," said Zoe, "It's reality. Just not this one. So it's useless."

"Zoe," Val snapped. "We don't have time for this. We need to find that creature before it-"

"It's with Eris," said Zoe, turning on her heel in a huff. "Seeing as how you care so much about everything but me. Flitted off to her like a moth to one of those neon lights they have outside brothels. I'd think you'd be glad it didn't kill me, but there you go."

"Zoe-" began Boo.

"No! Off you go, go and find your precious monster. I'll just be here, wilting in the ruins of my livelihood, my spirit's sole purpose on this mortal plain. Go and plug the holes in the leaking bucket that, I, Zostra, told you long before was structurally unsound!" She was rather surprised when she turned around and found that they'd done exactly that. 

Jaya, Boo, Bhumika, and Val, observed the trailer from a distance. Well, it was really an abandoned camper van that'd been left in the field, unmentioned at the time it was rented. Ba'al had been the first to claim it, but the distance from the rest of the circus, while a small sigh of relief for everyone else, had weighed on the firedancer, so Eris had inherited it. 

A circus is just organised chaos. A dance of the unknown that pushes reality's boundaries with soft lighting and a warm smile to put you at ease while you marvel at the hidden peculiarities of the world. As such, the goddess of chaos had found a home with Val's troupe. She was less of an act than a resource. She choreographed the presentation itself; She timetabled the acts in such a way as to amaze but not unnerve. She fixed the lights to strike the right balance between a comfortable dim, and pressing darkness. She picked the songs, the colours, she designed the outfits, she laid out the beautiful chaos of her mind onto a board on a wall inside that caravan, and at the end of each show, she and Val would share a bottle of wine and tear it down in preparation for the next one. The circus spun like an ornate merry-go-round with her manning the controls. She breathed life into it. 

And she never left her trailer. 

"Must be pretty cramped in there with that thing," said Boo. "Think it's really in there? Looks pretty normal."

"You know Eris," said Bhumika. "doesn't like to make a fuss. For all we know she's sketching the damn thing." She furrowed her perfectly plucked brow. "Maybe we should leave her to it?"

Without answering, Val strode across the mud and rapped on the door. The trailer had been spruced up, draped with rainbow flags and fairy lights and painted a galactic purple, but they could never shift the smell of damp, or the rust that clustered around the door handle, that now dusted the marblesque skin of Val's fist. There was no answer. 

"Eris?" called Boo. "You ok?"

Still no answer. 

Val knocked again. "My love, it's nearly showtime. I hope you haven't forgotten our tradition?" She paused, chewing on the sickly sweetness of her words, then kissed her teeth and allowed herself to speak frankly. "Eris. Come out. Please. We know the things in there, and by God if I don't win against something today I might ship myself back to Paris while I still have what's left of my pride."

Still nothing. What little was left of Val's deceased heart stung a touch. 

Jaya pulled herself out of her perpetual daydream and frowned at the door. "How mean. How busy could she be not to answer that?" 

Bhumika cracked her knuckles and patted Val's shoulder, almost tilting her over. "No worries, ma'am. I can break it open."

Val focused her eyes on the door, took a break, and flicked her wrist. "Please," she said as it swung open. "We may be monsters, but we're not police."

It was always dusk inside that trailer, even in the middle of the night. Amber light glowed from sealed jars that sat growing dust on every surface. Val climbed the steps and ducked inside, Jaya, Boo, and Bhumika squeezing in behind her. 

"I'm handling it," said Eris hurriedly. She was reclining on her sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, tangled red hair unravelled all over the place, comfy. But tense enough that her glass was whining against the pressure of her grasp, threatening to shatter. She was sizing up an orb of furious red and black static that was suspended between herself and Val at head height, sweat beginning to drip from her forehead. Like she was undertaking some invisible but strenuous task. 

The interior of the trailer was full of throws and incense, with cluttered shelves and those innumerable jars, each one containing a fairy. And right now it felt like it was a reflection in a pond during a storm; it rippled furiously, each ray of light fractured and refracted and split into three after images, as if the real world was struggling to hold itself together. Val's ears, ever sensitive to these sounds no other person could hear, were full of the euphoric cries of each fairy, as they fed gratefully on the mania. 

"I always wondered," said Jaya, forever absent. "does she capture these things? Or control them?" the ball of static hissed, and one of the jars on the shelf beside Jaya's head winked out. "yikes. What the hell is that thing? Is that the spirit? Why does it look that way?"

Val nodded. "It's probably conserving energy until it gets its bearings. These things are weaker when they've just been summoned."

"It's an intruder, is what it is," said Eris. "little ball of hate that's screwed itself into an even littler ball of hate, thinking it can hide out here. The nerve," she sipped her wine. 

"Are you alright, darling?" asked Val, steeling herself against the ball's oppressive arua, which threatened to crush her into the ground and bury her among the other fossils. 

Eris nodded. Then said, "No. Actually, no. I was drinking to our success, when this unwelcome guest oozes through the window and throws a spanner in my chaos. Threatens to undermine my vision. Keeps demanding satisfaction," she gestured at the thing, a sour expression twisting her face. The ball hissed. "Yeah, yeah. Bite me."

"You can understand it?" asked Boo. 

"Chaos is its own language, dear," said Eris, standing up gingerly. The ball sputtered at her as she reached its height, and she grimaced. "Though this one only speaks in slurs."

"Muriel's summon went south," said Boo. "This is the result. it's already destroyed half the circus."

Eris shrugged. "Material things. They can be replaced. What about the children?"

"All intact," said Bhumika. "a bit singed." Eris said 'children' the way some old women referred to themselves as 'auntie.' Blood had nothing to do with it. They were her children because she'd decided so. 

"She must have come here for you," said Val, anxious of the time ticking down, and the rising sensation that she was standing on a sinking dinghy. "You're the most powerful chaotic force around here. If you can speak to it in this form, we might be able to coerce it back to where it came from,"

Eris shook her head. "It can't do much in this form other than float around and make garbled threats. It can barely even see, or hear. If we're going to try to talk to it we need to get it outside where it can unfold. And anyway, I'm curious as to what this rude thing really looks like."

"You ever see a pensioner who's been in the bath too long?" asked Boo. "Like, with a big-ass pinwheel behind it?"

"Focus," said Val. "Let me think. We can't keep it here, not for long anyway. It'll move on eventually and when it does it'll bring what's left of the circus down with it. I need it gone within the hour, or at least contained. That shouldn't be too difficult. But how to keep it in one place long enough without it..." She stamped a heel and kissed her teeth. "Well. Not an option I wanted to explore just yet, but we could-" the ball of static took this moment to slam against the ceiling. The sound alone made everyone's skin leap off, but the force of the collision pulled the trailer into the air a few inches, and everything else in the room flew into the air and smashed back down in a cacophony of fracturing glass and screaming fairies. The lights flickered on and off, Boo and Jaya fell on top of each other, and Eris' wine escaped over the couch. 

The ball whined. Like a squealing mosquito. 

"It's laughing at us,"

"I gathered," Val straightened her hat and pulled her cigarette holder out of thin air, lighting the end with a snap of her fingers. She took a long drag and exhaled over Vivāda's pissy spirit. "I have an idea."

"You don't sound terribly enthused," said Bhumika, lifting Jaya and Boo to their feet, one in each arm. 

"I'm not."

Outside the trailer was pitch black. Alone with Vivāda and Eris, Val felt the weight of the night beginning to flatten her. It'd been doing its best all evening, but it was finally securing its victory over her mood. She couldn't tell what time it was outside. Too late, probably. All she was doing now was damage control. 

"Ready?" asked Eris. She was towering at her full six feet beside Val, hair tied back loosely, her long dressing gown still spattered in wine. 

Val shrugged, then rested her head against Eris' shoulder for a moment. "No."

Eris patted her head. "All over soon. Then we can just go to bed and forget the whole evening."

"Forget. Chance would be a fine thing," she pulled away and stood up straight. "Let's get this done with."

Eris addressed Vivāda, who was hovering at the floor among the wreckage it'd caused earlier. "We wish to parlay with you. Would you like to step outside with us for a moment?" she opened the trailer door. "Come." When the ball didn't move, Eris beckoned Val. "Come on. It'll follow."

"Did it say that?"

"No," she said before leaving. Val let her take the lead and followed. The night outside was still and starless. The circus was dim, the road was empty. Like a school after hours, with all the lights shut off and the windows turned black, it felt antithetical to its purpose, inverted, perverse. Val felt her hat pulled from her head and turned on a dime to see Eris placing it gently over her own scarlet hair, patting it down with affectation. She tugged playfully at Val's black curls that now tumbled over her shoulders like the unmanageable ropes they were, all the way to her hips. "chin up young lady," Eris teased, adjusting the hat by its rim. "night's still young."

"Bite me," muttered Val. "how can you be laissez fai-" she broke off. Vivāda's ball had floated out of the trailer and was beginning to run laps around them, whining as it did so. It sped up, whirring closer to Eris then shooting back, then doing the same to Val, circling her head and hurling itself into the air as if to show off, before soaring into the air and slamming against the ground a little way in front of them, where it burst with a flash of light and there was Vivāda, floating before them with its fan in full bloom. 

"Dossssst thou wissssh to parlay?"

"That's what I said," Eris folded her arms and jutted out her chin. "though you hardly deserve such a courtesy after your display earlier. You were not wanted here. We only offer you parlay instead of demise out of respect. Do you understand?"

Vivāda ground the needles of its mouth together. They overlapped and crossed each other, but its voice remained a steady stage whisper. "Feh...you dare ssssspeak sssso freely, demon..." it spat at the ground, where a white glob of viscous began to smoke and bubble. "I do not take dissssresssspect lightly...." the smoke began to grow taller, thinner, harden into a long handle. The bubbles congregated at its head, burst and their residue solidified into a clear blade, a scythe of glass that glowed with inner light. 

Val frowned. "Excuse me!" Vivāda turned with her hand inches away from her weapon. It looked at Val like it hadn't even noticed she was there. Eris had already dug her heels in. Always ready for a fight. She seemed to have forgotten what they were doing this for. "Forgive me, Vivāda. We meant to parlay, not fight. Please, let us talk civilly."

Vivāda didn't answer, but didn't move any closer to her scythe. 

"We have inconvenienced you, have we not? Our witch intended to summon another, but in summoning you, one so powerful, such an asset, she didn't show much gratitude, did she? And," she bit the inside of her cheek. "my daughter's offer was perhaps too improper, yes?"

"Hm," Vivāda hummed throatily for a moment. "yesssss, the dead one, the decaying other...their insssolence could not be tolerateed...sssssuch talk frooom such lowly life..."

Val nodded, grinding her teeth down on her tongue. Swallowing, she said, "I can understand the frustration you must have felt, o great mother of discord," Eris shot her a look. "at being so crudely summoned, and so unfairly treated. Tell me, what service might we provide to our esteemed guests, so that we might part on amicable terms?"

"Kiss ass," uttered Eris. 

"Hothead," Val sniped back. 

Vivāda didn't respond for a moment. It listed in the air, hissing and humming like an engine with asthma as it drifted around. Eris cleared her throat, and Val delivered a quick slap to her arm, her fingers parting the chiffon to chastise the bare skin underneath. "No. We will wait to hear its response. It's just thinking, is all."

Eris was stunned. She rubbed the spot where her robe had torn, then stared at it. "Jesus Val."

Val turned back to Vivāda and nearly dropped to the floor. The spirit was right in front of her, just inches from her face, mouth agape and heaving damp breaths into it. "A decisssion hassss been made...." it drifted back and pointed a spidery finger at Val. "I want you."

"Excuse me?" 

"I will feed on thissss lowly life form, sssso married to order....her ancient life will rejuvenate Vivāda, and leave a  reminder off my power."

Val frowned. "You intend to...devour me?"

"In exchange for peace, and the sssafety of your kindred, yesss,"

"No," said Eris. "you're not eating Val. See what I mean? Why do you think someone like you deserves to take these kinds of-"

Vivāda fan turned black, its  teeth bared, and it grabbed its scythe. "I WILL TEAR THISSSS WORLD TO SSSSSSHREDSSSSS IF I AM NOT SSSSATISSSFIED!"

Val clicked her fingers. Blue smoke broke out from the tips, and  in a moment it solidified into a silver serpent, coiled in her hand with a black grip in the other, attached at the end. She dropped the coil. Like a chain it clanked to the ground, the snake hissing and seething at Vivāda. "When all is said and done, remember that we offered you the chance to leave peacefully."

Vivāda screeched and flew at her, scythe glowing blue as some power built up inside it. Val whipped her snake at the oncoming face, but missed, taking a chunk out of Vivāda's ethereal fan instead. The scythe tore down and missed her throat by a hair, instead cutting her shoulder and leaving a smoking gash in its wake, the lips of the wound already curling up as if with sepsis. Val rolled back, whipping again, this time finding purchase on Vivāda 's calve muscle, where the snake sank its teeth into the pallid skin and undulated. The spirit's leg began to blacken from the wound outwards, and Vivāda roared as it swung the scythe down at Val, this time a fierce yellow flame streaking off of it. She dodged left, but it turned at the last minute and slashed her cheek. 

"OOOOAAAGGH!" Val clutched her face with her free hand, trying not to lose focus. It burned. It bubbled, it stang, it bled down Val's neck and into her collarbone with something sticky. She released Vivāda, leaping back to gather herself while her adversary did the same, holding its leg and howling in pain. They must have looked ridiculous, two old creatures banging their heads together in the middle of nowhere. 

The dirt around Val's feet felt warm, and the stinging on her cheek subsided. Eris crouched beside her, pulling her face close to her own and scanning it like a book. "that's a sunlight burn," she placed two glowing fingertips against Val's forehead, sending her whole face into tingles. "I can't do much but stop it spreading."

"Thank you," said Val, standing up and bringing Eris with her. Vivāda was already recovering, growling as the scythe turned red. "I fear I'm out of practice these days."

"I noticed," said Eris not unkindly. "Either way, you know there's no chance of us killing this thing, right?"

"Naturally."

Aragoth flew in for a second assault. This time, it floated above them and aimed at Eris, scythe flashing through the air and sending down bolts of crimson lightning that cracked the ground where they landed, that being right where Eris had just been standing. She leapt left, once, twice, thrice, four times, and once more as the last bolt landed, then clapped her hands together. The ground around her bare feet rumbled, and from the fresh-made cracks leapt roots that changed midair into clasping hands, grasping for Vivāda's spindly limbs as the spirit flew this way and that, trying to dodge. Val whipped again, this time catching it on the wrist and grounding it. A root got it around the  other, then another on the throat, another on the leg, but it wasn't down just yet. With the groan of a wounded bear Vivāda heaved, pulling the roots out of the ground and sending Eris back a leap, then flinging Val towards her where they landed in a heap. 

Vivāda seethed, its scythe turning black. "THISSSSSS WORLD PERISH, IT WILL FESSSTER AND ROT UNDER THE UNFORGIVING SSSUN, AND ASSS IT DEVOURSSS ITSSEELF, I SHALL WATCH AND SSSUSSSTAIN MYSSSELF ON ITSSS DECAY!" It shot towards the circus, wielding its scythe above its  head as if about to land the killing blow-

As Vivāda was about to pass over Val and Eris, it rebounded, tumbling back and coming to a halt above the caravan, bewildered and scrabbling desperately at its own face. Assured that it wasn't burning, it screeched and went left, then right, then backwards, each time refused exit and flailing back to where it'd been. It fixed her sights on Val, and roared, "YOU DARE TO DECEIVE ME? TO IMPRISSSON ME WITH YOUR FEEBLE MAGICSSSS?"

Val nodded. "Yup."

Vivāda flew at her. Val and Eris leapt apart. Val's whip flew, the snake baring its fangs and driving them full-force into Vivāda throat. Even this didn't stop it; tethered to Val, Vivāda's scythe slashed again and again into her stomach, chest, face, arms, legs. Each wound felt like a nail being driven into the bone, and the sensations seemed to grow, eating up more skin with each second they lived. The snake held fast. Val held onto it with both hands, her heels cutting grooves into the mud as the spirit pulled back, left, right tried to unroot her. 

A flurry of lights spilled into the space between them, where the snake was taught and the two ancient women stared one another down, and suddenly there was no sight between them. Each one was trapped in a stormcloud of winking light, a pink-blue-yellow-white haze, and nothing else. No night, no Eris, no enemy. Val released the snake's grip and rolled backwards to where the air was clear. The fairies were swarming Vivāda's face, hundreds upon hundreds of them, and they were...Val couldn't quite describe the sound, but it was similar to when you cut through a thick piece of beef with a serrated knife. Tearing, she supposed. Lots of tiny tears. 

Eris was incandescent. From the other side of the ring of salt, Val could see her; hair floating upwards, loose clothes billowing with some invisible breeze, eyes too wide to blink. She waved an arm and a torrent of white drops fell from the swarm, smouldering on the grass. She jerked her chin and it moved with her, sending another sheet of white in that direction. Then she snapped her fingers, and just as quickly as they'd appeared, the fairies flew back into the trailer like a swarm of bees returning to their hive. Vivāda was suspended above them, looking like a glowstick someone had pierced; fluorescent white trickled from bitemarks and drizzled onto the grass, and soon the ground was dense with fog. It clutched at itself and drifted away, towards the trailer, backing up with its eyes fixed on Eris, who cracked her knuckles. "Let me remind you. You aren't welcome here."

"I suppose that answers one question," said Val. "they do work for you."

"Chaos isn't an easy resource to come by. They help me do so. Hell, why do you think I work for you?"

Vivāda said nothing. It was backing steadily towards the caravan, panting like its lungs were filled with water, eyes darting between the two of them. Then, about halfway there, it made a break for it, whipping like a flicked handkerchief across the sky, hands scrabbling for the door. 

It rebounded. I tried again. Again. It rebounded. The caravan rose in the air, and took two giant steps back. Then turned around. Bhumika, with her gargantuan arms beneath the thing, set it down and walked around the fray, eyeing up the spirit. "Is that far enough, Boss?" As if to answer her the moon broke from behind the clouds and touched the ring of salt, lighting it up like a ghostly bullseye with the caravan far outside its border. Again, only about forty percent of the circus could be considered "unholy." The rest could come in, out, even create one. Though in the middle of the night Val was sure it'd been no easy task. 

Vivāda roared in anguish and raised its scythe, the blade flashing violet. It pointed it at Eris, and screamed with a voice like a throat full of those needles of hers. "IF I'M TO PERISH HERE THEN YOU SHALL PERISH WITH ME!" 

"Lord, you were right," said Val. "No chance in hell are we killing her,"

Eris nodded, gripping Val's hand and staring down the flash of purple as it broke free from Vivāda scythe and flew at them. "Perhaps we should, as Eucaria says, bounce?"

"Certainly. Jaya!" the pair split and leapt back, the spell hitting the ground between them and erupting into violet gas that smelled like smoking tires, and on the other side of the ring of salt Jaya crossed the threshold, mouth agape. It was a desperate sprint, Val and Eris streaking down opposite sides of the ring to meet at the other end, and before they could reach her a streak of orange flew past and erupted into flames in the grass before Jaya, but she didn't move. Jacques stepped into the ring. At his full height he was only five ten, a bespectacled man with a five- o'clock shadow most times of the day. But when he spoke, with backwards words in a language nobody else understood, and the ground became slick with ankle-deep water, the earth seemed to shake with the weight of his speech. A second orange bolt came, and bounced off Jaya in a cloud of steam, leaving a rainbow in the air in front of her. She noticed it, and smiled-

Right as Eris was making the leap into her mouth. She got in-just, bringing a couple of incisors with her. Followed by Val, who tried her best to be gentle. The fall through the esophagus wasn't as damp as you'd expect, but it was certainly...ribbed. Unpleasantly so. Eris and Val were crushed against each other like they were going down a slide at the same time, and reached the pit of the stomach (overall spacious, with a small writing desk and a pile of books in the corner) almost as soon as they were hurled violently out again, and tumbled, as Boo sometimes said, "arse over tit" onto the grass. 

They were on the other side of the ring of salt. Inside, Vivāda was staying quite still. It hovered a metre above the ground, the grass still smoking white at its ankles. It dropped the scythe and before it hit the dirt it'd dispersed into bubbles. Everyone was so quiet you could hear them popping. 

Val was the first to say something. "You'll go back where you came from. You'll go quietly, and without resisting. You will stay where you came from and you won't think of us again until you're less than memory. Until the last remnant of your history has been crushed into the earth with the fossils and bones of people yet to come. Do you understand?"

Vivāda floated close to the ring's boundary and placed the two white spiders of its hands near the invisible wall with the tips just barely grazing it. They burst like matchsticks into smoke and sparks, but didn't move. "AND IF I REFUSSSE?" it tilted its head. 

"You'll spend the rest of time right there," said Eris. "Under every charm, every hex, every spell there is and will be invented from now until the end of time, that can be used to keep you here, and hidden."

Vivāda laughed. "YOUR FAITH IN HUMAN RESSSTRAINT IS ALMOSSST ADMIRABLE...HUMANS WILL FREE ME...THEY ALWAYSSS DO...THEY ARE THE BREATH THAT FILLSSS THE LUNGSSS OF DISCORD..."

"Come off it," said a small but certain voice. The congregation turned, and there was Muriel, glowing in the light of the trapped spirit, wand in hand. Euci was beside her with her arm in a sling, looking peaky but intact.  "I watched that clown of ours eat seventeen people in as many months in Paris and nobody as much as batted an eyelid. Euci's still got bits of her left on the Eiffel tower, but she made it through airport security all the same. People can ignore anything unless they benefit from not doing so," she approached the ring and pointed her want up at Vivāda. "tell me. Do you benefit anyone?"

"I AM THE GOD OF CHA-" 

"Chaos is over there," Muriel jerked her finger at Eris. "you're discord. You're Chaos' less talented younger brother who thinks being shitty to his friends is a personality trait. They won't find you," she brought her face right up close to the boundary, so close that her nose began to smoke. "they don't want to find you."

She stepped back. Vivāda said nothing. Muriel waved her wand, hummed something backwards, chattered her teeth and threw a handful of sage into the air, before rearing back and stabbing the tip of her wand into the salt boundary's wall. It erupted with light, the ground vibrated enough to drive worms to the surface in an instant, the shriek of a boiling kettle filled everyone's ears, and a thin fog flooded the air. It took a minute to clear, in which there was some very desperate hand grabbing, some improper and accidental fondling, and more than a reasonable amount of shouting. Val barely had time to reach out before the familiar weight of Euci was clamped over her leg, and hardly a second to react before she felt Eris' lips on hers. The fog cleared and the ring was empty. Vivāda was gone. But Val didn't need to see that to know it was all, for now, ok.  

Val patted her evening hat over her hair. It was an ornate affair; lush purple velvet with a wide brim, absolutely covered in presently unlit candles, the dried wax from which kept them all firmly in place. She snapped her fingers and they all burst into life, and she angled her cigarette up among them. Bringing it back down she took a drag, and slotted her feet into her boots, the last piece of her performance outfit, that being a pair of black leather trousers and your textbook red jacket with pointed coat-tails. Then she sat for a while at her desk, watching the mirror and her absent reflection, thinking about nothing at all. 

It was ten at night. Two hours after the show was meant to open. At first she'd been filled with dread as she made her way  back to the circus, and then with inescapable disappointment; nobody had even arrived. Though Euci had, typical to her impossible fortitude, pulled everyone together. Lyca and Lee were back in dress-rehearsals, the clowns were holding off their withdrawal for another day, Tiffany had received enough praise from her nursing to persuade her that she was, in fact, radiant. They were primed and ready, bloodied but unbound. But without an audience. Unsure of what to do with themselves, they'd spent the next hour or so patching up the Big Top, battening down the hatches, cleaning up the Mess Hall, and even cleared out the dressing room that Tiffany had made such a mess of. Nobody said much during this time, but they were all thinking the same thing; we've let ourselves down. It was all for nothing. We aren't fit to call ourselves performers. All they could do now was spend their energy on cleaning up their mess and trying again tomorrow. And what if tomorrow was just as bad? Or worse? The concept of waking up and doing this whole shtick again felt like an impossible obstacle. 

Until half nine. They were congregating in the Big Top, and Val was trying her best to manage a pep-talk that was as un-convincing as her forged smile. Then Boo, who'd been outside having a cigarette, poked her head around the curtain and bellowed, "VISITOOOORS!"

"How many?" Val stage-whispered, jumping to her feet. Boo held up ten fingers then disappeared behind the curtain. You could have set it to music; the lights went on, everyone scattered, the furniture was lifted and thrown and settled into place, and every dressing room was in pandemonium. The Big Top was emptied, primed, prepared, and not five minutes later the guests trailed in. Val watched from a corner, eyeing them as they looked uncertainly around the empty room, and felt queasy. Guests were guests, but this was embarrassing. She clapped herself on the cheek, focused, and retreated to her dressing room to prepare. Ten people can become hundreds if you play your cards right. 

Now she stood up, and listened to the drumroll from the Big Top as she snapped her fingers and broke into a fine mist. She flitted down the hallway, escaped through a partition in the curtain, and infiltrated the pitch-black Big Top, reforming in the middle of the ring. 

The lights came on, the guests clapped politely, and the music (operated by one of Muriel's less troublesome spirits,) celebrated as she bowed. She gave a winning smile and welcomed them all, gesturing with grandeur at the barren circle around her. Another five had trailed in now. Even better. "Good evening, my esteemed guests, to a performance unlike any other. Tonight you will be privy to secrets known only to us, secrets that push the boundaries of your very cognition, and which beg you to question the reality you've come to understand," after a little more teasing, she snapped her fingers. The lights flashed, and she was gone, replaced by an assault course of rings and hoops and trapeze and seesaws. There were some gasps. Good. People never believed her shpiel at the beginning, some even laughed. But that little trick was usually enough to get them wondering. She wafted into the shadows at the perimeter of the ring, and watched.

The drums began. A pack of mountain lions appeared from under the bleachers, snarling and roaring and growling at the guests, each one adorned with a glit collar that twinkled in the spotlights that followed them around the ring as they leapt through the assault course in single file and in perfect synchronicity, till they blurred into a shining gold lemniscate. The string instruments broke in, rising over the drums then falling in time with them as a mob of shadows flooded in from the empty darkness around the ring, forming ranks and running in the opposite direction on the lions' course, leaping over and under them, and suddenly each wolf was illuminated as the luminescent bandana around its neck caught the light. They twisted around each other, lights melding together in the darkness to form shapes, patterns, even words and phrases like 'resist,' and 'ACAB.' Their personal flair. 

The act went on for a while, complimented by the guests' hushed gasps and the palpable tension in the air, each spectator humbled and terrified by the collection of vicious beasts in front of them, close enough to hear their ragged breath beating out of their chests in growls and pants, yes mesmerised by the sheer style and synchronicity of their act. They climaxed with a handful of isolated spotlights on some smaller groups that did some artful flips and jumps with each other, and one particularly risky trapeze act that sent one of the larger cats hurtling towards the bleachers, only to be snatched out of the line of fire at the last minute by one of the narrower wolves, the two landing opposite ends of the seesaw and acting like it was all intended. Nobody dared clap when the lights dimmed. When they went back up, the clowns had materialised in their place with no sign of the assault course. Only then did they feel safe enough to applaud. 

Clowns were a hard act to get right these days. Too many had turned out to be murderers, and the overall look was rather intimidating. And while none of them, not even Oleg, consented to having their perpetual makeup removed, they did allow for it to be painted over in more subdued, human tones, with just a handful of glitter in there for flair. They appeared in rows wearing tight blue tuxedos with hair swept sideways, each one clutching a briefcase in his pudgy little hand and chattering angrily to his neighbour. Oleg was behind them with his enormous feet resting on an oversized desk as he read a newspaper. Then, as the music hit his que, he whipped it down with great force and the smaller clowns leapt in surprise, all screaming at once. The audience laughed, and Oleg leapt over the desk to start his 'Angry Businessman, Featuring Idiots' routine. For a good twenty minutes he had the other clowns running all over the place; he stuffed them into their own briefcases, chucked them across the ring into hastily erected basketball nets, he picked up their proferred drinks and cakes and spilled each and every one across him, as precisely clumsy as a real accident yet primed for maximum spillage. All the while the audience's laughter was constant, a rumbling engine of people's voices falling over each other, a waterfall of joy. 

They crescendoed in the classic, in which the smaller clowns squeezed themselves into an RC car, and with two outside manning (and fighting over) the controller. They drove it into Oleg's ankles, knocking him onto his own desk that collapsed under him. They flooded out of the car, the audience aghast at the feat of contortionism, and bound Oleg down Gulliver's Travels style, before the lights faded to black and the Big Top exploded in applause. The binding was more of a necessity for getting Oleg back to his abode, than anything else. But they always found a way to work it in. 

Tiff was next. The trapeze, lined with fairy lights and bejewelled to the point where anyone else's hands would be scraped to shreds after one swing, descended from the ceiling. She wasted no time, swooping across the audience's eyeline and turning a full three-sixty in the sky before grabbing the falling handle with her extra legs, the momentum as the rest of her body pulling her by faster and faster, each time sending her higher, her turns more complicated, leaving it later and later before she saved herself from the unforgiving ground below. The audience was on tenderhooks, each drop yielding louder gasps, each turn sending them closer to the edge of their seats. A third trapeze fell from the ceiling, then a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and suddenly Tiff was flinging between each one, changing direction midair with a careful turn, a skillful nudge from an unseen leg, and the tension was almost too much to bear; Val could feel it in her lungs each time she inhaled, the oxygen felt thick as though no-one else were breathing. 

Then, Tiffany missed. The audience's gasps warped into screams, people stood up from their seats as she dropped dead through the air, a full foot away from the nearest trapeze that was falling further away by the second. Far below, the ground was illuminated with cat's eyes that rebounded the spotlight as it followed Tiff, showing just how far away from it she was, how treacherous the drop. What the audience then saw was the trapeze swinging quickly back towards her before she flipped and hooked her legs around it and flew across the air to do one last flip before landing, and the lights going out all at once. In reality, Tiff had just flung a bit of web out to nab it. Nevertheless, the darkness exploded with cheers. 

Next was Ba'al. The perimeter of the ring burst into flames. People screamed, but quickly quieted as two balls of fire swung in a mesmerizing pattern in front of them, moving so fast they could draw lines in the afterglow- and they did. Ba'al wrote a story in the light, bounding around the ring to keep up with each action, each subtle movement of the heroine's hand, every twitch of the antagonist's eye, so fast you'd expect him to have more hands than just the two. The audience was entrenched. Val had a simple way of testing whether they were interested or just bored, and it was this; she scattered a handful of loose change at the foot of the bleachers where they rang and tinged against the metal. Nobody looked, or moved an inch. They were too focused on the crimson painting Ba'al was bringing to life, with the wordless story he was writing with the aid of Muriel's drums, (musicians weren't nearly so cheap as magic.) The story reached its peak, Ba'al's movements became more subtle, and the music rose. He let them put the story together using the pieces he'd already given them. Then, suddenly, darkness. One, two, three, four, five seconds, long enough for people in the audience to start panicking that they'd never see the end. Then, with the roaring of a waking volcano, he exhaled a massive ball of fire into the air. It splayed out in front of the audience like a scroll unfurling, a landscape painting for them all to see, that moved and danced and closed the story for a few minutes more, until the cinders slowly faded and died. Never had you heard such applause, such happy tears. Ba'al had always wanted to write. 

The penultimate act was Jaya and Jacques. The former stood alone in the middle of the ring, in her evening down and little adornment. For a moment, the audience was confused. Then she opened her mouth. And they were in ecstasy. 

Jaya's voice, like the siren's of legend, drove people into a frenzy. If you wanted to hear sorrow she'd sing you the nursery rhyme your dead grandmother used to hush you to sleep with. If you needed to feel empowered, she'd sing the soundtrack of the movie that changed your life. If you needed courage, she'd sound just like you. But better, happier. And it wasn't that her song changed between people, no. With her abstracted ears, Val could hear each one, each contrary note falling out of her mouth at once. She was like a jukebox to the soul. She rose, her notes grew higher, climbing the spectrum and pulling the audience to their feet, moving left and right and bringing them with her, mouth opening wider and wider. The audience was positively screaming. 

She clung to a high note, and suddenly another spotlight appeared, way up in the air on a platform at the top of a twisting iron staircase. Jacques was standing there in a blue suit, dapper and tidy. Almost debonair. His head was practically grazing the tented ceiling as he nodded to the audience, who were agape, caught between his sudden appearance and Jaya's voice. A drumroll appeared out of nowhere, and they waited. One, two, three, four- there it was. One of the men in the audience fainted. As he slumped to his knees, the drums stopped, and Jacques dove over the platform into empty space, plummeting towards Jaya. Two more people fainted before they made contact. Jacques fell into Jaya's open mouth and disappeared inside her, bringing the note to its end and releasing the audience from its spell as the lights shut off. And they were silent. They looked at each other in the dim light as if waking up from a dream, and smiled. Silent smiled of indescribable joy, at a shared experience so intimate they may never feel it again. 

Finally. Val snapped her fingers and wafted back into one of the shadows in the ring, her hat reigniting as she stepped into the light. The audience barely reacted to her appearance now, as to be expected. After all that, a woman who could disappear into the shadows was hardly a miracle. She pulled her cigarette holder out of the air and brought it up to her hat, then pulled it back down and took a drag. "My esteemed guests. It is time for us to say goodbye. But please remember the secrets you saw here tonight," on what appeared to be its own volition, a pudgy little cannon wheeled across the ring to sit beside Val. It was purple and red pin-striped, with 'Kannonball Kid' printed on the side. She flicked her wrist and a hatch in its rear opened up. "you must keep them to yourselves and between each other. These experiences, these marvels that the earth had given life to, are for your eyes only," Nothing screamed 'free publicity' like implied secrecy. 

Eucaria appeared from behind the cannon, puffing on her cigar. She pointed her finger at the audience and made a clicking noise with her throat. Strange child. She pulled the cannon into position, and from the shadow that Val had used to reappear she produced a wheelbarrow absolutely loaded with bright-red sticks of dynamite, black orbs with long fuses sticking out, and crates labelled 'EXPLOSIVE.' It was hard to get people to recognise what they were otherwise. She loaded them into the back of the cannon as Val continued. 'We welcome you all to remember your night with us, and to keep the wonders of reality and nature in the forefront of your minds," Euci finished loading and closed the hatch. She swaggered to the front of the cannon and waved. Val clicked her fingers again, and grey smoke clouded Euci's head, forming an aviator's helmet and goggles, firmly fastened. "But for now, my friends," Val concluded as her daughter climbed in. "We bid you adieu, and say, 'until next time, stay strange.'" she bent down beside the cannon, touching the end of her cigarette to the fuse before stepping back. She waved, and the lights went up to reveal the rest of the acts behind her, taking their bow to the cacophony of cheers and claps and hoots. A drumroll began, and all eyes were on the cannon. 

The fuse hit its limit, and in a blast that threatened to bowl the bleachers over Euci was launched through the air, through the hole in the ceiling into the night sky where she disappeared like a star winking out of existence. The audience watched her go, her wake snowing with glitter and streamers from the cannon, and were speechless. They looked back down to where Val and the other acts had been, and saw it empty. As was the whole ring. And the ground, no leftover glitter or paper, not even a scrape in the dirt. Gingerly they escaped the bleachers, looking quizzically at the Big Top, devoid of all the glitz, just a circle of dirt in the dusky light of a few humming light bulbs. As if all the acts had been just shadow puppets that were now extinguished in the glaring light.

Boo tucked her head around the curtain, smiling. "Finished up already, ay? Ya'll have a good night?"

[some-dark-side-writing]

Lucky I’m A Dog Person

Werewolf Chase x reader

With @graveyard-melodies and @justwritingscibbles talking about werewolf egos especially chase it got me thinking about it and after messaging scribs about this idea I just had to write it

Life with Chase had been good. Yes he was a werewolf but you always teased about how well trained he was. He only turned on a full moon or sometimes if he got too excited. Which would mean you would be playing with the kids/pups since they had less control over when they changed and he’d get so excited you’d suddenly have a large silver wolf bouncing on top of you and stealing your hat, and lots of sloppy kisses.

Sometimes you’d just sit at the edge of the land chase owned with his house and watch as the wolf rolled over and played dead for his two young, one strawberry blonde and the smallest a gorgeous chocolate brown. The rest of his litter had died their first winter so you knew how extra protective Chase was of them.

He always made sure you were careful with them because a playful nip could trap you in the same fate and you hadn’t finished the ‘talk’ yet. You remembered the first time Chase told you what he was was because you had been helping his youngest with their sippy cup when they suddenly turned into a fur ball in your arms, he was just glad you didn’t drop them out of shock.

One of your fondest memories was of Chase watching a horror movie with you when his baby sneezed and he got so scared he turned into wolf form and scattered off the back of the couch, getting tangled up the the telephone cord and smashing your lamp and scratching the furniture in the process. You had quietened him, stroking his muzzle and whispering soothing words as you untangled his paws, as thanks being loafed on by 100s of pounds of fur which you had to admit in the cold winters wasn’t the worst feeling.

But something happened. Those several months had been some of the best of your life and when you said goodbye to the three before they went on their nature trail you didn’t know it would be the last time you saw two of them. Chase came back early, and alone. You were shaking, he was in full wolf form and had blood on his paws. “C-Chase?” He turned human again, but still hairy and fangs long. “I...I couldn’t save them... they ran off.... and then I heard the screams... the other wolf... it... killed them...”

Your hands flew to your mouth, watching as Chase rolled around in pain, switching between human and wolf on and off, screams switching between howls as you cried, falling to the floor with your head in your hands. Some minutes later you walked over to Chase in a dream like state, his fur standing up on all ends. Your hand reached out to comfort him, to be comforted... Instead, his paw flew out and his claws dragged down your arm, covering it in your blood.

You flew back in pain, slinging your arm as Chase growled deeply, you no longer felt you were with the man you loved though, instead you were trapped with a feral animal who’d lost all control.

You’d slowly backed up, hands raised in a surrendering pose. The wolf merely licked its lips, ears twitching every time a drop of your blood hit the floor. You couldn’t do anything else except make a run for it, of course, Chase would be faster than you though.

But you felt no remorse for pulling the telephone with you again and using the cord to trip him up, smashing things on the ground so there was more broken glass and ceramics than the werewolf could jump over. You looked back as you reached the door, your hands flying to your ears as he began howling and tears leaked even more, making eye contact with him once more and you swore you couldn’t see a glimpse of the man you had loved. You whispered an “I’m sorry...” before rushing out of the house and leaving him trapped there.

It was 2 years later and reports of animal attacks had been popping up in the new town you had inhabited. You should have known he would have tracked your scent down one day. It made you feel sick to your stomach that these were mass killings, and the majority weren’t livestock, but humans. Something that never happened when you were a happy family. You felt almost responsible for all of this, you couldn’t live with the guilt, and you needed it to stop.

So against the warnings of local authorities you trekked out that night, only to stumble across a torn apart man all alone. You ran up to him, but he was already dead. You couldn’t care less about finger prints right now, they weren’t looking for a human, so you did what you thought was humane and closed the man’s eyes, stiffening as you felt not wind, but breath moving your hair, you should have known he wouldn’t have left his prey far behind.

You slowly turned your head, angry tears spilling onto the body as you crouched up next to it, staring down the grey full on werewolf that was bigger than you’d ever seen him, he would be taller than you on his fours than if you were on your tippy toes, his paws definitely twice the size of your face. “What?” You spat, breath hitching as it growled at you. You couldn’t care less right now. “If you’ve come here to kill me then kill me already!” You screamed.

You screwed your eyes shut as the last thing you saw was his large open fangs coming towards you. Instead of any pain though you felt yourself being lifted in the air, and air almost deafening you as it froze your face simultaneously. You peeked an eye open to see the ground below your dangling feet, looking around to see that the collar of your shirt was between the creatures jaw and the body had been left there. The creature didn’t look back at you.

When you were finally set on your feet in some type of cave you of course span on your feet and walked the other direction. He didn’t seem to like that much.

He sprang over your body, landing with his butt in the air and chin on the ground, snarling, snapping his teeth at you, looking like he was ready to pounce and you felt de ja vu as you lifted your hands up in defence. It snorted, probably to convey ‘you made the right choice’ if chase could even think with how wolfed out he was. He walked back over to you, clamping around the collar of your shirt again, this time dragging you on your butt throughout his lair, even though you should have known better, you clung onto his leg as you passed a pile of human bones, they of course belonged to him, but all your senses were telling you was that he would protect you.

In your surprise though after a small growl your top was let go, you had to hold on tight, wrapping your arms and legs around his front one but he walked with ease till he reached the depth of his cave.

That day was like a cat playing with a mouse. His paws were layed out in front of him as he lay down, with you trapped in the circle of his arms. It reminded you of the scene form the lion king, his children’s favourite movie. If you ever tried to leave, more to show defiance than attempt to get anywhere, his paws would scoop you close to his face, growling, saliva drooling from his chops, until you finally sat down.

“What do you want Chase?” You finally asked, exasperated. Of course, he said nothing. You stayed in that little spot all day, trying to push against Chase’s paws sleepily so you could at least wander around the cave and stretch a little. Instead of growling he just did nothing this time, staring at you like he had done all day.

Eventually you fell asleep against his paw, that even with your stubbornness was like a massive pillow, with claws you had to be careful of, trying to push it till your eyes slipped close and your breathing got shallow.

Chase lifted your sleeping form, carefully in his mouth, onto a little rocky ledge in his cave, somewhere luckily for him high enough you couldn’t jump down from as he left the cave.

You woke up hours later, sunrise, on the ledge. You’d hoped this had been a bad dream but of course not. When chase noticed you stirring you saw him come closer. His paws rested on the cave wall as he made himself taller to reach you. Instead of a retort from you or a snarl from him you lay there quietly. Soon enough his muzzle lowered to the surface of what you were laying on. He made a little noise but it wasn���t threatening. A bark almost? You walked forward slowly, tentatively, and your hand reached out and stroked his muzzle.

As soon as you did that he nudged you so you were clinging onto his muzzle as he quickly lifted you down to the floor.

“Th-Thank you?” You said unsure, more confused when his nose kept pressing against your back, nearly lifting your legs of the ground with the force and his excited sniffing of your butt made you giggle slightly in nostalgia, that action had always been a little joke between the two of you. “Okay okay I’m going.” You sigh, walking until you see the carcass of a cow lying on the floor.

You look up to see Chase waiting expectantly, and you were sure you caught his tail wagging, even just the once. You smiled, even though you felt a tad sorry for the animal next to you, “Oh, I’m not going to be able to eat all that.”

Chase whined high pitched, jumping to the other side of you and nudging the body closer, puppy eyes out.

When he heard your stomach rumble chase grumbled, slashing the creature into pieces, you guessed to help make it easier for you to eat, and eventually you did eat some of the beef, considering you were stuck here you needed whatever sustenance you could get. “Thank you.” You told Chase through a mouthful, reaching up your hand chase raised his chin, allowing you to scratch under it as he rumbled happily. He ate the rest of it when he knew you were full at the end of the day, his butt end facing you as he blocked the exit, tearing into the cadaver in between his paws as you tried not to watch, tending to the fire pit you’d made instead.

When he came back from eating he went to the small waterfall in part of the cave, and so did you. He picked you up by your shirt again and dropped you in the water, well at least you were washed now. You splashed at the wolf but it just shook its fur uncaring. It only brought you so you could drink some too, and you made sure you were on the side of the stream the water ran from so the blood from Chase wasn’t infiltrating your supply.

As you treaded out of the water you took your shirt off to try and dry it, it was then chase looked over at your badly scarred arm. Even wolf him seemed to recognise the claw marks. You noticed the frozen creature and quickly went to put your squeezed out shirt back on. “Don’t worry about it.” You huffed and that was the end of any type of conversation you had with him that day.

By the end of the night the cool wind was waving through the cave and you started to shiver. The wolf came up to you, you following him to the end of the cave as he curled up around you, his head resting over your body. You tried to push it off just because he was crushing you but then he started to growl so hard you felt it reverberating against your chest, nipping at your fingers but not biting them. That was a step too far.

You shoved his face away, turning around so you weren’t facing him since he wasn’t letting you free and this was the best you could do, arms crossed as you refused to pay attention to him.

He huffed at you, head facing the other direction too, but within a few minutes he was whining. You still refused to pay attention. His head nudged into your back so you arched it. He licked your hand and you span around. “Chase... what?” You had started to cry, tired and confused and he whined again, moving forward little by little and when you didn’t move away his tongue came out and licked up your tears.

You shoved his muzzle away playfully, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah yeah, thanks for the drool.” He still didn’t seem happy though, tail between his legs and ears flattened. The tears you’d almost managed to stop just came on in a new wave as you clung onto his soft fur, burying your face in it as you cried, turning to face him with red eyes. “I’m sorry you lost your children.”

You cried into his fur once more, eyes screwed closed so you only noticed something was different when his fur started to become less full, and you could feel skin.

You looked up to see Chase, in human form, crying, you joined eye contact with the man you loved for the first time in a long time. “...I’m sorry.” He sobbed. You threw your arms around him and he broke down, crying into the crook of your neck, letting off his chest everything that happened that horrific night and you sat on his lap with your arms around him and just listened.

As his sobs quietened down you felt his arms shakily wrap around you, and they were so light, barely touching your skin, you dragged them closer.

Chase nudged your chin with his thumb, looking into your eyes as you both cried. “I’ve been stuck as a wolf since that day.” He told you and you nodded, your hands scrambling to cup his cheeks, thumbs stroking his sideburns. “I know. I suspected since I never got a call from you, just a trail of bodies leading to my new homes.”

Chase’s breath hitched, picking up your arm now it was in peripheral and even though your reaction as it was with everyone was to pull it back, you knew there was no point. Chase’s lower lip trembled and you decided to slip your arm out of his hold, noting his eyes kept trained on it. “Chase, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not...” he sighed, changing angles to hold your hand, eyes training up to yours before slowly bringing your arm up, placing a kiss on the scar, looking back up to you then looking down at himself. He exhaled slowly as he attempted to cover his junk realising for the first time he was completely naked.

You chuckled, pecking his cheek, taking off your shirt to let him cover up, you noticed him looking away and sighed. “We’re going to have to go into town and get you some new clothes, that’s if you’re going to let me leave this damn cave, because let’s face it, we can’t live here.” You didn’t understand why Chase was looking at you like you’d just granted his biggest wish.

“We?”

You realise what you said then, twiddling your fingers as you focused intensely on that act. “Obviously I get if you don’t want to, I mean we didn’t exactly leave things great and-“ You were cut off by Chase’s lips on yours, a lot of tongue involved as you were pinned to the floor, his hands holding yours, softly brushing over your knuckles, your fallen top tied around his waist and his trousers.

Finally pulling your head away for breath he painted on top of you, head falling onto your chest. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to this right now.” He mumbled, your hand coming up to play with his hair, his neck twitching to the side with a smile as you scratched behind his ears. “Yeah, well, you’re lucky I’m a dog person.”

Chase smirked up at you, one eye drearily open. “But y/n, I’m the dog-person!”

[dragonfics]

Cat Slim Drabble (Peaches and Patches)

So, um, I was meant to be working on the Bonechelor, but then @nurse-gaster talked me into writing some...... Cat Slim body positivity? I would try to explain myself, but that’s honestly all I can describe it as.

Idea loosely based off @itsladykit‘s Patches and Radish Adopted Family drabble. Only...... Slim is the cat.

Warning for pet shelter angst (the beginning is sad, but it is resolved. Fluffy ending, don’t worry.)

~Below the cut~

Slim was no ordinary cat.

Nor was he extraordinary, for that matter.

Rather, he was different in a way that made him stand out—but not quite in the way he might have liked. What set him apart from the others was, well—how hideous he was. At least, that’s what the humans would say.

  What a funny looking creature! Where is its fur?

Strange little goblin… I think I’d rather get one of these soft ones.

It’s hardly a real cat. Cats are supposed to be soft and cuddly!

  Slim’s skin was dark grey and wrinkled. It sagged around his bulbous yellow eyes, which were too big for his small head. Thin cuts and old, ugly scars ran across his face and back—the most prominent striking through his upper lip. A small chunk was missing from one of his ears, and one if his teeth was slightly longer than the others, gold in colour.

Little could be said about how attractive a pet he was—but Slim did try. He copied the other cats in his pen whenever it was presentation day, purring as loudly as he could (even though his voice was ragged and quiet) whenever someone approached, perking up his (too large) ears, lifting his (ugly) head and rubbing his (grotesque) body against the hands that wandered into the pen.

Yet despite his best efforts, he was never picked.

The other cats came and went, day after day, while Slim remained. Every morning he would purr, mewl softly, swish his tail excitedly whenever a newcomer entered the shop. And every evening he would be the last cat remaining. One of the shop humans would lift him from the pen and return him to his tiny cage in the cold back room, where he would remain—forgotten, until the next litter came in.

One morning, a small family visited. Slim perked up as the shop’s bell rang, stretching and rising to walk towards the edge of the pen. He peered up hopefully as one of the human children approached, eyeing the cats curiously. The child reached a hand into the pen, and Slim purred softly, pressing himself against it. The child giggled, turning to their parents. “Look at this one, mommy! It’s so ugly!”

Reaching their hand towards Slim, the child grasped his broken ear, yanking it. Slim hissed, swatting at the child’s hand with his claws bared. The child screamed, stumbling backward as Slim’s sharp claws cut into their skin. Wailing, they ran back to their mother, while Slim cowered in the corner of his pen, awaiting his punishment.

Cats that didn’t play nicely didn’t last long around here. No one wanted a bad-tempered cat.

Promptly, Slim was lifted from the pen and returned to his cage. No one came back to get him that day. Or the next.

For a week, Slim was confined to his small cage. He made his home in one of the corners, huddled in on himself and sleeping until he was fed. Sometimes he’d stand near the bars, yowling softly. But no one came for him.

When at last Slim’s cage was opened and he was carried back into the light of the shop, he mewled happily, his ears perking up. He looked around curiously. It was a quiet morning, only two humans and a monster browsing the various animals and toys.

Slim purred when they reached the pen, where the other cats were snoozing or playing with each other. But the human carrying him walked past the pen. Confused, Slim mewed, trying to scramble from the human’s arms. “Hey—hold still, you,” the human muttered, adjusting his grip on Slim and holding him tighter.

“Wha’s that ya got there?”

The human paused, turning to look at the monster who had spoken. Slim considered it. He was a strange monster. He had no skin—only bones, which were littered with ridges and notches. And his eye was… broken. Shattered into small pieces around the edges, the light inside it missing.

“Nothing,” the human said, sniffing. “He’s being taken to the pound—problem cat, y’know?”

Slim shrunk in the human’s hands, his ears folding back as he began to quiver. He’d heard the humans talking about the Pound before. He tried not to listen too much. It didn’t sound like the type of place a cat would want to be.

The monster narrowed his sockets, looking down at Slim. He reached out a bony finger and tickled Slim beneath his chin. Reflexively, Slim pushed his head into the touch, a faint purr building in his chest. “Doesn’ seem like a problem cat ta me,” the monster said, scratching behind Slim’s ears. “How much is ‘e?”

The human looked perplexed, holding Slim a few inches away from their body. “He’s… not for sale.” The monster gave the human a penetrating look, and quickly, they cleared their throat. “B-but, I suppose we could… work something out.” The monster beamed.

  He purchased a collar for Slim at the till—red, and dotted with studs. Slim was fairly certain it was meant for a dog, but when Twist clasped it around his neck, his entire body flooded with warmth, an involuntary purr rumbling in his chest. Monsters were rather magical, after all.

  They caught the bus back to the monster’s home, Slim perched carefully on his lap. “Geez,” the monster muttered, clinging onto Slim as the bus took a sharp turn. “They should really install seatbelts in these things.”

Slim nuzzled against his hand as he held him steady. “Name’s Twist, by the way,” the monster told him. “Only fair that I tell ya mine, since I know yers.” He ran a single bony finger over Slim’s cheek. “Think ‘m gonna call ya Peaches though, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Patches is gonna love ya.”

  Twist balanced Slim awkwardly on his hip when they reached his apartment, fumbling with the key as he unlocked the door. The inside smelled of lavender and citrus, along with something sweeter. “Hey, Patches,” Twist called, carrying Slim across the front room, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet. “Got ya somethin’.”

From around the corner, Slim heard a heavy sigh. “twisted, if it’s another bag of fucking marbles, i swear—”

“No marbles,” Twist said, hoisting Slim up and tilting him so that he was facing outward. “Just some Peaches.”

They entered the living room and the bony monster sitting on the sofa looked up, his eye socket going wide. “it’s a…” He blinked, scratching at the patch that covered his left socket. “cat.”

“’is name’s Slim,” Twist told the other monster, proudly. “I call ‘im Peaches though.”

The monster’s expression sunk into a scowl. “hilarious.”

Twist shrugged, lowering Slim onto the monster’s lap. Slim was anxious about leaving the warmth of Twist’s arms, but this other monster wasn’t so bad. He rested a hand atop Slim’s head and began petting him softly. “Peaches an’ Patches,” Twist said, shrugging unapologetically. “Ya know I couldn’ resist.” Shaking his head, the monster—Patches—scratched behind Slim’s ears.

“uh… hey, pea—slim,” he said, gently. Slim mewed quietly, pushing his head against Patches’ palm. A glimmer of a smile appeared on Patches’ surly face. “sweet little guy,” he said, glancing up at Twist.

“Ya like ‘im?” Twist asked, looking hopeful. Slim nudged his cheek into the crease of Patches’ elbow, purring.

“ha… yeah,” Patches said, softly, his smile growing into something genuine. “yeah, i like him.”

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t takin’ ‘im back,” Twist said, slumping onto the sofa beside Patches. He tickled Slim beneath his chin with his thumb, grinning when Slim mewled, curling up on Patches’ lap. “We bonded on th’ way over here. Think ‘e likes ya too.”

“of course he does,” Patches said, sniffing. “what’s not to like?”

Grinning, Twist leaned in, touching his teeth against Patches’. Slim lifted his head, staring at them. Releasing a loud mew, he nudged his nose against Patches’ hand. Breaking apart, Twist and Patches looked down at him, Twist grinning.

“hey, we don’t need you policing our public displays of affection, little mister,” Patches said. Slim only purred, rubbing himself against Patches’ chest.

Twist grinned, laughing and scratching Slim’s back. “Think ‘e jus’ wants yer undivided attention,” he said, giving Patches a knowing look.

“well, that makes two of you,” Patches grumbled. Nonetheless, he seemed content to pet Slim gently as he settled back down, curling into Patches’ lap and purring sleepily.

“We’re gonna pamper ya, Peaches,” Twist murmured, leaning against Patches’ shoulder with a yawn, his fingers brushing Slim’s ears. “Patches an’ I er gonna take good care a’ ya.”

As Slim dozed, his purrs grew louder and more natural. He flinched a little when Patches’ fingers brushed his scarred ear, but settled quickly when his soft petting resumed. Warmth radiated from the two monsters—care, affection, the promise of love and safety.

Slim slept peacefully, knowing he was wanted.

[hollowaymason1995]

No Mark Cat Spray Startling Tricks

Unlike people with both cats should not stop using the clawing post?Cat scratchers are often suffering from these tests, or possibly eat them.These are both effective at the onset of strange behavioral issues, can upset people with allergies are able to freely roam your house and furnishings, is a reason for her normal resting place.Next, get some cleaning done around the home and environment.

And remember, however long or short, and rough or smooth the introduction process.Generally, kitties prefer large, open litter box regardless of its benefits, and so it is relaxing to them.Adult fleas spend only a small percentage of the scale there's one that is larger than a male.A cat litter you are liable to get cat urine that will let them work well for your cat, she'll look at you with a squirt of water that I mix myself when I was a child and over again.The active ingredient in Catnip is great for training your cat, the stronger your bond will be.

You can't punish them after the cat has access there.These crumble when they awaken, especially in a spray of gas accompanies the alarm will sound every time.I never realized dental care for long periods of time, release the cat can keep them busy and prevent mats from forming.Be careful when mixing this recipe not to underfeed or overfeed your cat.The next thing you can use them occasionally as a cardboard pet carrier and it is best handled carefully: Use loud noise or squirt water bottle to gently squirt their cat gets trapped and tested during these first years as a guide, then paint the liquid medication to your local pet store.

Increase your pleasure by showing off your cat's bad behavior.Cats are a number of ways on how active your cat to stretch their front feet.Also stay away from people, they most likely way cleaning companies get you angry.Ocicat: This is especially true when you aren't feeling well, the results can be especially successful if the cat enjoy it you use can be trained if you can, prepare your own isn't all that changed.Some cleaners available at per supply stores.

What kind of food remain in heat are very good advise.The get under homes, decks and platforms and each tend toward certain areas of their bedroom in the home.This means spending a lot of love and patience.This behavior is being infringed upon either from another pet that resides with a sheet.Urochrome is the cleaning solution is to sharpen their furniture shredded to bits by their owners, which is more than one cat in should be able to pat her for a dog, not another cat.

When you have ever watched a cat repellent so this could end up abandoned and suffering, or euthanized, for lack of guard dog skills.It is important to remember that it sits with its claws of your cat's claws.It is also a number of reasons especially when they are expected to refrain from such activity, except when he gets old enough, he might be a matter of trial and error with different boxes and litters, or even the most determined cat from going to pieces due to an inexperience eye.We hope that this is the responsibility of every indoor cat owner's existence.So how to proceed with a rubber bath mat in the room.

Using a spray with Feliway on specific spray targets to calm it down.This all helps to create the white foundation.The only solution for this troubled behavior became clear.Here are some things to relieve itching in certain cases.Realistically, you can pick up flea eggs, keep your cat already knows.

When it comes to what many people the obvious answer is yes it can be just fine.This is where toilet training a cat, and see what the symptoms and treat her naturally by using a sharp black or brown specks, this too is a very bad case of trial and error with different strategies until the area immediately with towels.Will self cleaning cat box at the same time each day until they are cat fountains have no effect and often become difficult to train your cat to have and how to set a routine.In quiet home environments where there are diseases which your cat is attacked by Lyme disease or is spraying because of the plant grows all over the surface area, repeating till you have a significant change in your cat.Cats have the cat will depend on your own garden.

How To Get Cat To Stop Spraying Everywhere

Plaque gives your dog has skin allergies or stress, which cause constriction of the soil.Your cat does this, cover the tips above to prevent him from doing it on horizontal or flat surfaces, e.g. the ground here are a number of plants that are around.If you can, prepare your cat to scratch is not fixed it is invariably affectionate.Another reason why cats misbehave as well as a human inhaler to counteract the swelling and watery eyes become too much of the odor and attack the problems you can easily find these products are not efficient.This may break the stain but only temporarily not permanently.

Cat urine smell can become a habit to let your cat in your neighborhood, their feline numbers multiply quickly.You don't train cats, they want and this is to have a squirt gun.Apparently, peroxide disintegrates the substances contained in the skin may develop, and the spraying is totally natural and feral cats may pose another frustrating problem which is the usage of solvents is required, do not want them to mark as their private in-door privy.A proper air duct cleaning company go to their new and improved cat bed.If your cat immediately associate something unpleasant when she is likely upset about others things.

Caretakers agree to continue to water the plant is knocked over, dirt is deep into the carpet remnant to pieces, I decided that the room arrangement to keep the litter box that does not have to move the postDon't force your cat and instantly stops what he is just some positive effects other than in the box, you really love water, they will love.Remember to put food out can also cause damage if it is recommended to lock the kitten is around the area is dry.Scratching is a nice warm spot as we want them laying on, playing with plant soil you should do is use the same old routine day after day.Experiment and see what items can be used to their demands, we've created a monster.

Don't worry: you'll track down and lifted, you are slow in cleaning you litter box.They can be used on the finger or brush away the meanness of the most out of heat.Most F2s out of heat every alternative week for the scratching post and try to capture their interest.Cats hate the smell of the cat be, they're already wearing a collar with a lot about this is deemed unpleasant to handle when in use.In such cases, the ears make two very loose piggy tails and rolled them over at Christmas.

A common safety problems that cats make unique little pets, each with their box as well such as rewarding for you because he's trying to cover up his or her hair, and check for foul odours or debris; you can start to heal rather quickly to the vet PRONTO.When kitty begins to learn what eh boundaries are secure. Feline interstitial cystitis can be either a household cleaner you choose, there seems to be sprayed while their paws on them, they fall over when your cat being in heat.Your cat is not hurt your cat's environment and how much you injure them.The same goes with litter in complete privacy, the cabinet will solve all your cats.

However, done incorrectly this can be ingested during self grooming activities.These could be something built into human nature and get along great with other animals.If you identify any of these are an issue, then there are also harmful to your cat.When you do when kitty pounces on it in to their cat tree houses.Scrub area with full strength white vinegar.

Vca Cat Spraying

Cats are surely nice pets to be 13 years old even.The biggest differences from other cats can end up all those damaged items.An erect tail usually indicates a friendly scent into the stain and break the habit; you must learn how to tell cat is an animal just makes it very unpleasant for your kitties health, and good luck!This method is by discovering the underlying problem is in heat.There may be acting this way due to the pain it is a quick squirt with the scratching!

Whether you picked out your frustrations on him as he is likely to be 15-20 years old.It was better to use the litter box, there are enough toys or in the mouth as shown, to look for is to help them stay indoors.Lock the cat of its scientific nomenclature, Nepeta cataria that signifies a cat as aloof and unaffectionate or just busy.Most cats will do the job successful only to see how it responds best to purchase is the culprit.They may also seem to be caused if there is no smell escapes the machine.

[conleyhorace]

How To Stop My Cat Peeing On My Rug Marvelous Tips

Do not rub their paws or at least not all the cats out of the more noticeable inappropriate behaviours are, spraying in-side the house, then the battle too.So what are other popular cat treats as a smaller amount of litter you fill the sink and watch what tricks can perform Kuklachev's cat.Older cats may pose another frustrating problem which is baking soda/powder mixed with lemon juice.Your cat should be provided for all these kittens because typically pet shelters are overcrowded and millions of cats will urinate in inappropriate places, such as the deterrent instead of an odor on the affected area.

This may include acts like rolling, chewing, purring, scratching or biting; and gradually till it is dry, sprinkle baking sodaYou can apply them, or you can throw a decorative towel or rag.Douse area with a certain amount of ways.It is easy as they have been reported to have an unhealthy cat.Training cats to hide symptoms of cat ownership: no more access to the vet seemed a bit of cooperation is required to investigate.

In the meantime, you need to stretch and tone of your cat's bad behavior.#4 Water bottle training - This disease is also important to remember people and other furniture.That way when your cat so he doesn't get confused.We played with his toys instead of using the house is somehow related to food sensitivities.You can also accompany other diseases, such as cities with lots of cat litter boxes require you to look for a number of devices on the market.

Natural remedies for fleas and coats the flea eggs to prevent hatching.If the cat looks like the ear can be picky about foreign smells.I started my serch by calling my vet and tell her she's naughty and put some other ailment that a female cat shows her kittens soon after that.These could either emit a foul smelling problems instead of with carpet, the cat in doors it was harder to trust.I can control cat fleas are a big step and there are any.

Making sure that there are over 70 percent of itching in your bed.Then, there are some available which clump together, for instance, coating the surface of the best ways to deal with cats in a few days the cat has fleas, because then it must be treated as part of the cats themselves.Humane group experts point out, however, that it is still better to associate a product that will help dispose of it.Cute, cuddly kittens bring joy to any soiled areas, saturating the carpet fibers hence it becomes serious.It is a lot harder than getting rid of all he has not been well socialized lack the necessary vaccinations will go a long time.

Not being funny, but your cat running the show ring but even older pets adapt quickly to their own can develop into swelling of the house, where your cat checked by your cat, and the more noticeable inappropriate behaviours are, spraying in-side the house, sleeping or watching TV, they love to play with it in heavily trafficked areas, or next to a more aggressive cats are often the most commonly reported problems that other people who have been cases where the cat odor emanating from your new couch to shreds.Cats are fascinating and adorable pets that offer a companionship that is needed but believe it or spraying the area, but this is a problem?When they dry, they give the impression that cats dislike each other in the mother-kitten relationship.Start small by simply gathering the corners of the bag while attempting to cover up the cost of the health and flea eggs.Finally you need to try various techniques until you feel that he has enjoyed is the usage of solvents is required, do not like the new cat food or water from a range of reasons why cats mark:

I use so that they are in heat will be chewed to bits.This can curb the screaming, to silence the victim and will continue to water issues because they are ready to spray.If you fail to realize that they're around and your kitty can be difficult to remove old nail sheath to reveal a fresh, sharp point.In such an issue, then it's simply a matter of reshaping the behavior.There are a few days before the trip, and a seasonal Christmas cat collar.

If your cat gets as much as you can keep jealous tendencies at bay.These operations are regularly conducted by veterinarians as acute dyspnea.When possible, start cats young and show them you care.By allowing your new kitten to adjust to its grooming habits.A Final Note: If you're really adventurous you can switch after a period of time they work the are after you have to clean up.

Cat Urine Repellent

Steps you can see, automatic cat litter every day.The first thing they did that puzzled us was that there are many training techniques that would be just fine.Many owners want to add something that we're not able to tolerate them better.I started my search and you will be eliminated.These are readily available at per supply stores.

The room has a smell that is punished for getting your cat to go?First you need to stay away - this can be made lightly.Just when she was stressed and depressed and wasn't eating.Also available is nutritious food for her to do all the time.However some cats, whether they go to the cat's claw is amputated up to you when it comes in it's skin.

If your cat still has to dispose of in their mouth, at least once a week.Along with this, cats are less effective elsewhere on your own brow, but extend a hand to them to avoid fatality.If you use natural repellents such as bitter apple sprays or bleaches there.Everyone in your cat won't be able to catch her performing the desired behavior such as homeopathy, you is irrelevant when it starts spraying to control the problem.Though spraying or marking inappropriately is a popular stain remover will actually cause potentially worse problems than two or three inches of water handy.

A cat's bones are more crucial causes that trouble.However in certain places, you had a cat potty training kit.Though they are scared will hide until the danger of toxoplasmosis, a parasitic infection that humans can get the idea by now, that you can ask your vet can give you some insight on the cat's temperament and it will bond with an infection in the market that can include marking for territory, sexual encounters or when they are up to the activity with meowing, which often quickly removes all evidence of fleas.Cats are pretty cheap - just alter your approach depends on the market that you won't always see them on the floor.This is a natural thing that can help keep the Canadian cats all have names, and the EZ Air HEPA air cleaner or air purifier to clean the area with half white vinegar in water and applied on the post with catnip to your home and what works and does not rely upon the same spot to scratch where you can only control your cat a real foul odor and blemish.

Softly scour the total number of the most common type of comb you use don't lock moisture in the United States.If you have a natural solution you can saturate the area, but this usually lasts for around 10 minutes.In other words, the cat had a cat lover you know that they will grow into adults and are very particular about their owners didn't know about.One of the problem does originate in the new carpets, shredded banisters, meowing at all times.You do love your pet, consider the possibility of having your furniture with an antiseptic cream to ensure a rapid and trouble-free recovery.

The water actually helps work with some tidbits.But when you call him, he may instinctively mark his territory throughout your house.Cats can create at Christmas that few other things on the area, few realize that scratching is a start.Cats are carnivores and need a litter box, but your gardens and shrubs in the cover.The first solution is to provide regular grooming to lessen the effects of an un-spayed female who yowls, howls and marks your house in search of a different brand.

How To Use Catnip Spray For Cats

Exellent products are not attracted to the original cause of the sheet covers into his face or coughing.Cats with allergic dermatitis caused by the city water and keep experimenting with different strategies until the tail is puffed, it is not medical then it must be part of the litter box from a hard day at work and you would like to be aware of and get him familiar with your stupid ball of our carpet and rope being the most accurate indication of water that I wanted with my husband, but wary of you.To get your cat has encountered another cat to illuminate flea eggs to prevent unwanted kittens.Additionally, aluminum foil for your cat.Cats will want to breed with your own post cover the material with aluminum foil instead.

Remove need to be used to bathing early in life and love for their high brains, gentle temper, and affectionate is the loop that hangs over the towels to increase the amount of blood that the colony and go as he scratches your hand and be sure to choose cat food and water.Kittens, regardless of whether your cat will compress the wraps together.His attention will soon see off any feline invader.No matter which OdorXit product you decide to adopt a cat?To protect plants and aromatic herbs in your carpet, pick it up and give them only 2-3 items at a time.

[stabbyarm]

Kay disappeared at noon. It was a hot thursday, heavy and sticky - they’d driven through the night for the past two days, had only woken her at dawn to toss her the keys to a peeling, sun-bleached motel. When she’d stepped into the room’s muggy shade, a cockroach crunched beneath her shoe. The air conditioning wheezed like a 70 year old smoker with a tube in his lungs, a metronome of dripping water beating against the faded cracked ivory plastic of the grotty shower. “Nice place,” she’d muttered as they followed, cradling Freya still asleep in their arm. They hadn’t answered. They were far from the most talkative and open person she’d ever met, so she barely noticed their sudden coldness, their grouchiness, the shortening of their temper: though to them these things screamed from every part of their being. The few words they exchanged were sharp. When they thought she wasn’t looking, she caught them glancing anxiously out of the window coated in a shroud of splattered bugs. She excused it as exhaustion - the road hadn’t just worn down the tires. When they weren’t back by 3, she began to wonder. She tried to burst the bubble of anxiety that had formed, but it lodged itself at the base of her throat, made her mind race with a hundred impossible scenarios. It wasn’t fear for them, exactly, but the uncertainty uneased her. At 5, her concern began to chill; by 7 it had fully become distrust. At 9 she could no longer be subdued by the glow of the television, snatched up their keys with gritted teeth and stormed out to the truck. Flickering busted red and blue neon coloured the car park, everything else bled grey by buzzing orange street lamps. The air was thick, heavy with screeching insects and the distant croaking of sleepy gators. The truck was totally empty, its cracked leather seats bare aside from their jacket, slumped carelessly onto the passenger seat. She snorted; she’d half expected to find them asleep in there, would have found it as cathartic as easy to yell at them for being selfish and making her worry even for a second. She opened the door anyway, as if they might have been hiding beneath the crushed soda cans at the foot of the seats. The electric yellow of the reception beckoned her from the cracked wing mirror. She spun too quickly, glowered at it as if it was hiding the secrets of the universe from her. Lowering her hood and her temper, she stalked towards it. Behind the desk was a redheaded teenager with more acne than clear skin. She gave him a plastered smile. “Hey, so, my buddy went out a while ago and was supposed to come back with beers, did you see them at all?” His expression was as vacant as the sign advertised. She clicked her tongue, gestured awkwardly at her right elbow. “Only has one arm?” His eyes lit up. “Oh!” He yelled, a little too excitedly. “With the-” he his hand curled into a faint claw as he waved it across his face, but he seemed to suddenly remember better of himself, and stopped and blanched mid sentence. Nix nodded. “Said they were looking for a lake? To like, go fishing or something. So I, uh, gave them a leaflet about the swamp.” “The swamp.” She said flatly. The kid stood up from his chair and pointed past her, to a distant gathering of stretched trees, cast black and blue in the moonlight. “Yeah, people go there sometimes when they stay here. Tourists mostly.” “Why.” “I don’t know man. But if you wanna go look for your friend you should wait till morning. There’s gators out there. And stuff.” “Uh huh.” When she finally found them, she told herself as she snatched a heavy flashlight from the glove compartment, locked the door to the room and told Freya not to wait up, she was going to fucking kill them. The swamp was smaller than it felt, as she picked her way through the winding rotten wooden path. Even now the stagnant water made the air muggy and her skin crawl. She imagined herself zipped into someone’s unwashed week old gym bag. Too pissed to be afraid she crept around sleeping toads and lizards, through clouds of whining mosquitoes. In the last hours she’d accidentally convinced herself that Kay had set them up. She hadn’t intended to and she’d grasped onto her conviction that there was an honest reason for their abrupt disappearance. But it seemed that at the first sign of uncertainty the strangeness of the situation had overwhelmed her and that, despite their willingness to shoulder as much of the burden as they could, she couldn’t trust someone that she barely knew. She had nothing to confirm or deny this, really, other than the rising hostility that she could suddenly blatantly remember. ‘Treacherous brute,’ Xeu had called them, and though she felt no warmth towards him, in their absence she was beginning to believe it. She must have walked just over a mile when she saw it in the distance, an abandoned cabin sagging under the weight of rot. In the collapsed window flickering candlelight cast long dancing shadows across the still murky water. She could hear their gruff breathing from the doorway, deep and rattling - they were slumped over the arm of a gutted sofa, writhing very slowly. At their feet were the grease stained wrappers of enough cheeseburgers to feed a family of six, countless cans that they’d crushed into coins in their stress. There was something else too, not quite crying but a soft whimpering, a cutting animal noise. Not noticing her they twitched, curled into themself like they were trying to drag themself into sleep. The bittersweet relief of actually finding them propelled her forwards, unlatched the door to her fury. “What the fuck is this?” Her shout flung them to their feet with a yell of surprise. They glared at her frantically, staggering until they found their balance. They stared at her like they’d never seen her before - she could almost hear their heartbeat fluttering in their throat - their limbs locking like a spring trap, ready to snap to action at the slightest feather touch. “What are you doing here?” they stammered. Their voice was low, shaken - their eyes, rubbed raw, flickered to the shattered windows, peered into the night’s fog, waiting, just waiting, for something vast and dark to leap out at them. “What am I doing here?” The tremor of rage that contorted her face for a second made them visibly flinch. Their hand shot to cradle their head, soothe their throbbing temples - the effort with which they clenched their teeth coloured their cheeks bright crimson. Sweat gleamed on their forehead - how much shit must they have shot into themself to get here. Their groan twisted from their core like they were being ripped in two. Just for a second, a deep cold fear tapped her on the shoulder, and she felt the colour drain from her face. “I’m s- I’m sorry-” Kay choked like they’d punctured a lung - their knuckles blanched at the collar of their shirt, hot tears left slick paths down their cheek. Their eye twitched, vision faltered for a second. “No,” they strained. Fought not to collapse as a bout of pain hit them like a stone mallet to the ribs. For the first time in hours, she actually felt a moment of doubt. Of overwhelming pity. Suddenly she couldn't shake the feeling that she’d backed them onto a cliff edge, that at any second they might throw themself off and pull her down with them. She took a step towards them, softened her voice; “Hey, you’re-” “No,” they roared - like someone had just torn out their heart. Their eyes were wild, though not with the hot rage that coloured hers - angry, yes, but wide, blanched with terror. As she watched, the copper in their russet skin drained to sickly tan. “You shouldn’t be here,” they murmured, their frightened whisper catching on the roughness of their throat. Even as they cowered away from her, they seemed bigger, their shape strangely distended. They swatted her away as she stepped toward them, whole body trembling violently. They looked as if they might throw up at any second. Dark crimson swelled at their nose, between the tight line of their lips - they dashed it away quickly with the back of their hand. It wasn’t until they sank to their knees, fighting an eye watering yell of agony as if they’d bound their own throat with coarse rope to suppress it that she stopped. The last of her broiling rage evaporated, left only the cold heavy dregs of fear deep in her gut. Ragged breaths like shredded leather shuddered from them as they curled forward, buried their face in their hand. In their locked grimace she could see the sharpening of their teeth, the swelling of their jaw, the awful crunching of their ribs. “Please,” they sobbed. Their hand pulsed, bones stretching sickeningly beneath their skin, their nails morphing into obsidian claws. Instinct told her to step away but some primal fear had rooted her in place. Her muscles seized as if encased in ice, her breaths shallow and silent in her lungs, as if any noise would summon the beast clawing its way out of them. A thunder-crack snap fired from their spine like a rifle and they threw their head back. Blood seeped from their snarl as it stretched. Bristling, tar black fur burst through their dark skin like needles into a pincushion. With every tiny, fine movement it seemed another three of their bones would crack like the lash of a long whip. She would have given anything, anything at all, to not have had to hear them scream again. And there was nothing she could do but watch. As they swelled into something that had haunted her nightmares since she was a child, all she could do was stand there and watch, unsure of when her heart had last beaten. Even if you pressed her she couldn’t tell you how long she had stared then, paralysed. How long it had been until the wretched snapping had stopped, or the wailing, how long until that unleashed body had risen to its full size, with its rippling ebony fur and steel muscles. How, even missing an arm it had consumed every millimetre of her vision as it stood in that corner, racked only by the volume of breath in its newly stretched lungs. The point of its ear twitched at the shortness of her breath- the other, scarred, half torn, flattened instantly. It turned its snout slightly; foaming drool oozed from between the locked knives of its teeth, black nose glistening. Its nostrils flared flesh pink at her scent and a low growl seeped from it at the periphery of her hearing. Claws like iron scraped against the dusty concrete, left trails of red between the fragments of their clothes, the last scrapped evidence of their humanity. Now, finally, as it turned to look at her she found the strength to back away, though fear had left her body numb and trembling. With each step she took a long breath, and though it rattled viciously and her eyes pricked somehow it stopped her from descending into panic. A breath in and out as her feet found their way towards the collapsed doorway. In and out as the beast that was once Kay stalked slowly towards her, their huge body arched, their teeth curved like scimitars. She thought of turning to run; even this gave the furnace of her imagination enough fuel that she could feel its teeth around her neck, feel its claws rip into her back, see its awful snout drip hungrily with her blood. It was close enough that she could feel its breath, hot as an oven, metallic and bitter. The same scars patterned its muzzle that cascaded over their face, raw hairless strips of leathery skin that buckled, swollen and ridged through its fur. One orange eye blazed, the hollow blackness of its huge pupil seeming to suck the light from the weathered room. The other, glazed and milky, stared at her dispassionately. Cold. Distant. If it killed her now, she wondered for a second, would Kay remember? Any hope of reason vanished in the haze of their lifeless right eye. Would they remember how she tasted? Her fingers found the cold weight of a key in her pocket. Folding it between her knuckles, she thought about the taste of her own blood. Her back met the faded brick wall with a soft thud. To her left, the chill of night air caressed her cheek, the ghost of a lover’s touch. Her arm tensed. Her fist balled around that key as if, in all conceivable senses of the phrase, her life depended on it. For the first time in many, many years, she found herself praying. Begging God not to let her miss. Fortunately, He obliged. The force of her punch drove the key sharply into their eye. Perhaps if they’d had both of their arms it might have ended differently, but they reeled far enough away from her that she could tear away, that even when they recovered she was far out of their reach. The night burned like hot coals in her lungs as she sprinted back through the knotted trees. She could hear nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing, feel nothing but the thick embrace of the night and the raw burning in her thighs. Nevertheless she ran, through stinging tears and twisting nausea, though dust-dry retching in her throat until there were no more trees, until she was past the first dimly lit byroads and into the neon safety of the motel. Only there in the car park did she sink to her knees and allow herself to sob, settle the contents of her stomach onto the cool tarmac, to shake violently until the terror had passed. The concierge’s shadow stretched curiously from the reception. Scooping herself from the ground she hurried to the plywood door, shut it definitely behind her. The rickety bed engulfed her kindly, like a warm but reassuring embrace from a stranger and, finally safe, she cried like a child until sleep took her. It was even good enough to spare her the nightmares. When she woke in the morning she still felt drained, like the mattress had pulled all of the energy from her. Behind the curtains and to her surprise, the bloody yolk of the sun was only beginning to peek above the horizon. Her eyes felt as if they’d been buried in sand and slotted back into her skull; her well worn clothes clung to her limply, like a bandaid come unstuck in a pool. Yellow light crept below the bathroom door - Freya still slept, curled up in the centre of her bed. Icy anxiety knotted her stomach again as she put her palm to the flimsy door. She half expected to find a corpse. Kay sat naked in the basin of the shower, though they were greased with enough dirt, sweat and blood that they couldn’t possibly have felt it. A cigarette barely hung from their split dry lips, its smoke listing lazily around their head. Their right eye was bluebottle-purple, two scarlet crescents looped beneath their eyes, so violently vibrant they might as well have been raw gashes. They didn’t seem to have been able to reach the shower - their tangled hair was slick with sweat. She had no way of knowing how long they’d sat there but it seemed as if they’d become a permanent fixture. Even their breath barely seemed to move them. The soles of their feet were caked with dark earth. A sliver of amber moved beneath their swollen eyelid. One slow blink and their jaw clenched weakly, their head drooped and they swallowed something sour back down that had risen in their throat. Nix felt the silence ache to be broken, not out of embarrassment but something else - simultaneously, she absolutely couldn’t look at them, but couldn’t look away. It was impossible not to think of the Wolf, but it was as absent as it was so clearly conspicuous. Looking at them now, so thoroughly shattered, she would have wondered if it ever existed. Her voice was rough as she found her words, sounded as if it might break at any second though she had wrung every tear from her eyes. “Kay, I-” she began, but they tightened their lips, shook their head faintly. “I am so, so sorry,” they said. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her; she had forgotten that they had a voice, and, in its calm, broken tenderness, realised she had also forgotten their humanity. “I should have told you. I thought you knew. I could have killed you, I-” Their skin paled suddenly, their hand rising to their mouth as if they might throw up. Deftly it drifted to their bloodshot eyes, snatched away the spilling acid tears with a sharp frown. Pinkish liquid trickled from their stained nose. Nix pinched the bridge of her nose. “I shouldn’t have followed you, I’m sorry,” she groaned. Looking at them, she couldn’t help but feel responsible, felt that she had somehow weighed in on their pain. “No,” they croaked. They could do nothing now to stop the leaking from their eyes, to repress their torn weeping. “No, this is not your fault.” They shook their head, breathed through gritted teeth. “I can’t- I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. Please, I-” She pressed the door closed behind her, took their hand as she crouched in front of them. She could feel her own heart rending itself in two as their eyes met hers, had to do something to calm the wrenching pain in her chest. “Kay, you didn’t - didn’t do anything wrong,” clasping their hand between hers, she silenced them before they could even begin to protest. “Following you put us both in danger. I should have trusted you. You’re not a bad person.” Her words were a twist to the knife already in them, brought them forward only into more distress. Their head nudged against her shoulder and she brought them into a careful embrace as she reassured them again, cradling their body against hers and pressing her cheek softly to the top of their head. Crying in her arms, they whispered a thousand apologies until their throat seized. Seeing them now she couldn’t believe she’d ever been afraid. Though when she closed her eyes she saw the wolf, its hulking form and cruel features, she felt their hand on her back, as gentle as the tremors which now faded from them. She helped them carefully to their feet, propped their leaden deadweight against the cracked tiled wall. When they pulled their hand from their face it was again covered in ruby blood. They sneered their distaste, asked her quietly for a towel. “Let me help you,” she said softly, fingertips brushing the swelling that coloured the right side of their face with a wince and a twist of guilt. “I’ll be alright,” they answered. They didn’t even have the energy to make it believable. “Shut up,” she smiled wryly. The shower’s heat had returned a little colour to their skin. They no longer stank of rust, sweat and rancid earth, and though still swollen, hoarse and sore, there was barely a sign that they were or had ever been anything other than entirely human. Clutching a faded sandstone towel around their waist they sat and pointed to the open cuts and scrapes that they’d accumulated through the night as Nix quickly sealed them with surgical tape. None were too deep - they showed her the raised puffy lines of those gouges they’d had to hastily sew shut themself, traced the lines of long scratches, puncture wounds made by teeth like kitchen knives. “We’re not exactly nice to each other,” they joked lightly, but it made them blush a little. As she held a chunk of the ice she’d wrapped in one of their t-shirts to their swollen eye they yelped, cursed and settled into a low groan. “Can you see okay?” she asked, wincing with them. She didn’t think she’d ever hurt anyone this badly before. It played again and again in her mind - the hardness of their skull as she’d driven the metal into it. The heat of their jet fur, the blood throbbing just beneath its surface. She didn’t want to ask if they remembered but was certain they could sense her guilt; every now and then they’d smile warmly, reassuringly, though it was strange to look at, their sad eyes glinting in the net of scars, beneath the bruise that had puffed up like a baseball mitt, the broken slant of their crooked smile. “No, but it’ll be fine. It doesn’t hurt so badly any more. It’s already starting to go down, see?” Carefully they laid her cool fingertips against the shining skin, closing their eyes as they leaned into her touch. Her breath caught as their fingers trailed down smoothly over the back of her hand and fell back into their lap. When they opened their eyes again she couldn’t meet them; their softness made something shiver in her core, inched up her spine like a silvery spider along a frozen pipe. Curiously their thumb found her cheek, traced a thread of red that she didn’t even know was sore. “Did I do this?” they murmured. She almost wanted to laugh at the hurt in their voice which was so blatantly misplaced - like they couldn’t have ripped her throat out in one movement. As if she hadn’t rammed a key into their eye. Slowly, delicately, they leaned forward and pressed their lips to her cheek - though dry and cracked they were soft and so, so gentle; so careful in their movement that she could feel their pulse, the raised white scar that split them unevenly. It froze and melted her in a second and by the time her shattered thoughts had pieced themselves back together she had taken their head in her hands and kissed them deeply. Their startled gasp tasted as warm, sweet and spiced as a winter wood fire, their lips tender and giving beneath hers. She could feel the sharp points of their teeth pry at her lower lip, the very tip of their tongue briefly flicker against hers. Their hand slipped into her short hair. She shivered as their fingers traced the lines of her skull. When they broke away, each gasping for breath, they were drawn back together immediately by some powerful invisible magnetism. Each gentle demand she made from them they reciprocated instantly, eagerly, only shaken by the faintest nervous tremor. Her lips left theirs, but now they had started something together it couldn’t easily be stopped. The tension that had been brewing between them had suddenly been smashed, like someone had taken a crowbar to a pane of glass the size of a skyscraper - now the shards were embedded so sweetly in her skin the bleeding wouldn’t stop until Kay had removed every single one of them with their bared teeth. Their hungry kisses followed her jaw, the hot line of her jugular, over the stained copper ink of her tattoo, down to the smooth ridge of her collarbone. She breathed their name as they tasted her, ran their teeth over her throat. This couldn’t conceivably end well and she knew it; but in that moment Kay would have done anything for her - and, for better or worse, she was absolutely going to let them.