#cat full of soup meme

[zs-art]

full of fear ➡️ 🐱

mamamiaAaAAaa

[skyward-floored]

The cat’s out of the bag - Chapter 2

Here’s chapter two! More adventures of Wind stuck as a cat.

Now with an ao3 link!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52017334/chapters/132551434#main

Chapter 1 | Next

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Wind and Twilight traveled through the woods for a while, Wind hanging on to Twilight’s pelt the entire time.

As he walked, Twilight told Wind a little about when he’d first been transformed into a wolf, explaining the trouble he’d had adjusting to his body, and how once he’d figured it out, it wasn’t too hard. Wind listened in interest, and made a few mental notes of things to try once Twilight set him down.

But eventually Twilight stopped talking as he looked more intently for signs of the others, and Wind found his mind wandering in the quiet of the woods.

He still couldn’t believe Twilight was Wolfie. No wonder he was so touchy about being petted, and seemed so intelligent, like he could really understand it when they talked to him.

It would also explain why Wild was so close with the wolf... did that mean Wild knew Twilight was Wolfie?

Did anyone else know?

Wind let out a thoughtful little squeaky noise, resting his head on his paws.

Time probably did. It seemed like he knew everything sometimes, but aside from him... well, Legend would have to know if he’d been turned into an animal too, but that must be it. That meant three whole people had known Wolfie wasn’t just a wolf... Wind wasn’t sure quite how he felt about that.

Of course, he had some other things on his mind at the moment.

He breathed out a sigh, adjusting his grip on Twilight’s shoulder. He still felt weird, a little nauseous and achy from his transformation. He also kept forgetting he didn’t have hands, and when he went to do things like scratch his nose, he ended up hitting himself in the face with his cumbersome paws.

How was he supposed to do anything like this? Even walking was too hard at the moment, and Wind felt his tail lash as he thought of how useless he currently was.

Hopefully they would find Sky and the others and fix this before it became an even bigger problem.

The afternoon dragged on, Twilight’s steps lagging a little the longer they went. The smell of blood was still sharp in Wind’s nose (which he was discovering was way better at smelling then his regular one), and he spared a wistful thought towards the red potion he knew was sitting in his bag. All his stuff had disappeared when he’d been transformed, so there was no way to get it right now... as far as he knew.

Just one more thing to ask about when I get my voice back, he thought with a sigh. I wonder where it all went anyway? Aryll’ll be so upset if her telescope is gone...

Twilight made a small noise of pain as he brushed past a branch, and Wind went back to watching him, feeling more and more worried the longer they went. The rancher kept wincing, and Wind finally bapped his ear to get his attention.

“Hm?” Twilight said, blinking as he looked at Wind.

“Your arm is still bleeding,” Wind meowed, and when Twilight gave him a confused look, huffed in annoyance. Right. No talking. Argh.

Twilight had wrapped a few bandages around his arm, but they’d begun to stain, red seeping through. Wind wasn’t sure how bad the injury was, but he wasn’t keen on having Twilight collapse from blood loss or anything.

I won’t be able to help him at all if he does.

Wind quickly chased away that thought, and instead of trying to communicate through further meows, got to his feet and moved around Twilight’s shoulder, gesturing clumsily with a paw at the blood on the rancher’s arm.

“It’s fine Wind, it looks worse then it is,” Twilight assured when he figured out what he was doing.

Wind twitched his tail. I don’t believe that for a second.

To prove his point, he abruptly jabbed at Twilight’s hurt arm, and the rancher yelped, jerking his arm so hard Wind was nearly flung off. He only managed to hang on by extending his claws and clinging to Twilight’s pelt, and gave him a flat look as Twilight tried to smooth his expression of pain.

“Okay okay, so it’s not just a little scrape. It still isn’t that bad,” Twilight grumbled, helping Wind settle back onto his unhurt shoulder. “But I can’t do anything more about it, Sailor. We’re just going to have to wait until we’re with the others again.”

Wind let out a little grumbly growl, but he knew Twilight was right.

That didn’t mean he liked it, though.

They continued through the woods in silence, Twilight only speaking up on occasion. They both perked up when he found what looked like boot prints, hopefully a sign of the others, and Wind paid more attention to his surroundings after that.

His senses were sharper then normal, which had been totally overwhelming at first, but he was starting to get used to the sounds and scents of the forest. Wind could hear birds flying overhead from much further away then normal, and smell all kinds of things.

Along with the blood and wolf smell on Twilight, Wind could sniff out the sap from the pine trees they walked by, and various animals that had passed by the trail they were following, along with a faint whiff of the sea all at the same time.

It was pretty weird.

Wind kept himself amused by trying to figure out what all the different smells were, his nose stuck in the air. He als tried to make out some of the more unusual noises he heard, and Twilight looked at him more then once with a smile on his face, like he knew what he was doing.

Wind just wished he could ask him for advice.

It wasn’t until the sun was nearly set when a new noise filtered through the trees, and Wind sat up, swiveling his ears around as he listened. It hadn’t been the same birdcalls he’d been hearing as they walked, or the rustling of leaves in the wind...

He strained his ears a little more, and perked up as he finally recognized it.

That had sounded like talking!

Twilight heard it only a moment later, and he smiled over at Wind, speeding his steps towards the noises. They grew louder and louder, and as Twilight pushed through the bushes, the other Links came into view, talking around a half-set up campsite.

Wind ducked down a little on Twilight’s shoulder (in respect for him wanting to keep Wolfie a secret), and began looking around for Sky.

“Rancher!” Wild called out when he noticed him, and the other heroes paused in their discussion to give him relieved looks, several eyes drawn to his bloodied arm. Warriors stepped over when he saw it, and immediately began fishing in his bag, relief and worry equal on his face.

“Glad to see you’re alright Rancher, we were worried,” Four said as he set down some firewood, and Wind ducked even lower as he walked by. Where was Sky?

“What’s going on?” Twilight asked as he stepped closer to Warriors, and Wind looked around at the heroes as some of them resumed their discussion, their loud talking sounding more like an argument to him. It was mostly making his ears hurt.

“We can’t find Sky or Wind,” Warriors replied as he continued to dig in his bag. His voice was grim, and Wind thought he looked a little frazzled. “They must have been separated from us somehow, I don’t know where they are. But what worries me most is that they’re the only ones we haven’t found. Apart from you Rancher, we all came out in the same area.”

“That’s strange,” Twilight replied, his brow creasing. “Sky isn’t with you all?”

A wave of dread swamped over Wind. Oh no.

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since we came through the portal. He probably fell asleep somewhere,” Legend drawled, but his voice held a fair amount of concern in it.

“Have you seen Wind?” Four asked Twilight, and then his gaze caught on the cat sitting on his shoulder.

His eyes went wide, color shimmering off of them, and Wild seemed to notice the cat at the same moment the smithy did, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Twilight is that a cat?” the champion asked loudly, and Twilight cringed as the argument stopped, everyone staring over at where Wind was sitting primly on his unhurt shoulder.

Four and Time exchanged looks, Time’s eye narrowing in a calculating way, and Wind heard Twilight swallow.

“I...”

He trailed off, and Wind moved closer to his head, giving him a gentle nudge. It’s okay Twi.

Twilight let out a sigh, his face turning to one of resignation.

“...Yeah, it is. I... guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he mumbled, and Wind twitched his whiskers at the phrase. Seriously Twilight? “This... is our sailor.”

The clearing was suddenly very quiet.

“...You’re kidding,” Legend groaned after a solid minute of silence, putting his head in his hands. “Rancher you’ve got to be more careful with that stupid necklace.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Twilight said indignantly, and the clearing broke into confused questions while Wind gave Legend a look, sticking his tongue out. That’s right it wasn’t! Well... not really. “It was an accident, veteran.”

“But... how?” Warriors asked, looking between Wind and Twilight with an expression of alarm. He’d found a potion bottle, but seemed to have forgotten about it as he stared between them. “He can’t have— really? Is this a joke?”

“Oh it’s no joke,” Four said with a quirked eyebrow.

Wind eyed the smithy curiously. Maybe Wild, Time, and Legend aren’t the only ones who knew about Wolfie after all.

Twilight sighed. “Captain, it’s complicated, and I promise I’ll explain, but long story short... we need the Master Sword to fix him.”

Warriors looked even more alarmed. “What? Why do you need the Master Sword? Is he cursed?”

“...Sort of?”

“Sort of?!”

“Okay, yes, it’s sort of a curse, but it’s easily fixed,” Twilight reassured.

“He’s right. Relax Captain, we just need the sword and he’ll be good to go,” Legend spoke up again, and though Warriors still looked worried, he calmed down somewhat.

“Erm, one problem with that... Sky has the Master Sword with him,” Hyrule piped up, and the confused questions and chatter died down a bit.

“Oh. Well that does put a wrench in things,” Wild said.

Wind meowed quietly in agreement.

All of them turned to stare at Wind at the noise, and the sailor squirmed a little at the scrutiny. He could feel their eyes on him, looking at his fur and whiskers and everything, and he sank down a little in Twilight’s pelt.

“Sailor, are you okay?” Warriors asked as he stepped forward, studying Wind with a worried look.

Wind let out a meow in reply, and without really thinking, gave Warriors’ outstretched hand a lick. The captain blinked in surprise, and Wind had just enough time to wonder why exactly he’d done that, before Warriors smiled, giving Wind a small scratch behind the ears.

Ooh... that felt nice.

Wind leaned into the touch, a rumbly noise rising in his chest, then blinked, and shook himself as he realized what he was doing.

For Jabun’s sake, he wasn’t actually a cat!

“You’re really okay, kiddo?” Warriors asked seriously, and Wind nodded, still enjoying the feel of his fingers gently running over his fur. He was feeling better now that he was back with the others, even if he was embarrassed to be... well, a cat.

I was already the youngest, and now I’m the smallest too, Wind thought as Warriors removed his hand, feeling glum. Even a miniblin would give me trouble like this, no less something like a kargaroc. I’m toast if we go into battle...

“So a cat, huh... that’s interesting,” Four said thoughtfully.

“You’re awfully fluffy,” Hyrule said, peering at Wind.

“Wow, yeah,” Wild said, putting his face right up by Wind’s. Wind had the sudden urge to bat at the hair coming lose from his ponytail. “Are all cats this fluffy?”

“Yes Wild, they are,” Twilight said, his voice sounding a little strained, and Time came over and pushed him gently down to sit on a log.

“Alright, let’s slow down a bit. I believe a further explanation would be helpful, but Twilight’s arm could use a potion first.” Time took the bottle from Warriors and handed it to Twilight as he spoke. “Sailor, are you hurt at all?”

Wind let out a thoughtful little chirp, and looked back at himself. He was reminded again of the handful of cuts he’d gotten during the fight on the cliff as he looked at his fur, but there wasn’t anything serious. He mostly felt sore from being knocked through the portal, and then being forcibly turned into a cat.

He couldn’t easily communicate any of this though, and looked a bit helplessly at Twilight.

“I think he has a couple scrapes, but nothing bad,” Twilight answered for him, having done his own look-over. Then the rancher leaned closer to Time, continuing in a lower voice that Wind almost missed. “All that magic hit him hard though. He can’t have a potion in this form, but... getting something warm in his stomach would be good for him.”

Wind narrowed his eyes, but didn’t protest as Time looked him over, his eye studying the few cuts he had.

Sympathy shone on Time’s face as he looked at Wind’s changed form, and he ran a gentle finger over his head before drawing back and asking Wild if dinner was ready. Wild nodded, and while Twilight drank his potion, Time poured a bit of the soup Wild had been letting simmer into a dish, and set it down on Twilight’s lap.

“Let’s have dinner,” Time said, sitting down beside Twilight. “Finding Sky is our priority, but empty stomachs are a more immediate problem.”

Nobody had any objections to Time’s suggestion, and anyone standing sat down. Wind had a feeling they were having dinner mostly for his and Twilight’s sakes, but Twilight definitely needed a break based on how pale his face was, so he didn’t complain.

The tantalizing smell of soup wafted through the clearing, and Wind suddenly realized he was rather hungry. His stomach let out a quiet growl, and Wind carefully shimmied down Twilight’s arm, still really not used to dealing with his paws and tail. But he managed to land without incident, and settled onto his lap next to the dish Time had gotten for him.

It took him another several minutes to figure out how to lap up the soup with his tongue though, and even then he still got some on his face. Everyone’s eyes were on him as Wild began passing out soup, and Wind felt his face grow hot, even though he was sure cats couldn’t blush.

Did they have to stare?

He shot a withering look around camp, and everybody seemed to get the hint, looking at their own food instead of his.

Wind quickly lapped up the rest of the soup while nobody was watching, caring less about being messy and just wanting to finish. It didn’t take him long to empty the dish, and he leaned back, licking his chops.

The soup had left a warm feeling in his middle, and Wind felt a lot better now that he’d eaten. So what if he had trouble with getting his tongue to work the way it was supposed to, and had bits of soup on his whiskers? It had been delicious.

Wind let out a breathy little sigh. Now if only I wasn’t still a cat...

“So Twilight, what exactly happened to you and Wind?” Warriors asked as they all ate, tone light, but still a bit suspicious.

“I don’t know all of what happened to Wind, but I can tell you what happened after I fell through the portal,” Twilight said. There was a flicker of something uneasy on his face, but he quickly smoothed it over, and Wind blinked.

He’s still nervous about Wolfie I bet... Is he going to explain about that, or make something up? he wondered, watching Twilight set down his empty dish. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. But then again, if I’m right about Four, then Hyrule and Warriors are the only ones who don’t know he’s Wolfie. It would be weird not to explain...

Twilight began to speak about the battle, and Wind settled a bit more comfortably on his lap, unable to stop himself from yawning.

He’d been planning to try walking around some more, and practice getting his paws to work right, but he was full of soup, and warm, and feeling awfully tired again, and decided just sitting and listening wouldn’t be so bad.

Besides, Sky might show up any minute, and then I won’t need to practice.

Twilight’s soft voice made little vibrations go through Wind’s paws as he spoke, his voice rumbling a little in his chest. The sound was oddly soothing, and Wind felt his eyes start to droop.

He valiantly tried to stay awake, but the exhaustion and tiredness in his bones he’d been trying to ignore suddenly reminded him of their existence full-force. Another yawn escaped him, his teeth glinting as he stretched his jaws, and Wind tucked his paws under himself, nestling his tail around him.

Someone’s hand patted his fur, and Wind sighed, tucking his face under his tail.

They would figure this all out, he was sure. Sky would show up with the Master Sword, or they’d go find him, and Wind would be back to normal in no time at all.

...He hoped.

He really, really hoped.

[crystal-matrix]

Our beloved Snufkin fictive made this today

[bumble-the-sun-bee]

i just thought of something incredibly stupid

The "full of soup" meme cat but it's my sona and instead of soup it's orange Julius

I'm giggling lmfaooooooo

[choolantanavt]

Have you heard about Dabloon Tiktok?

If not, allow me to help you. It all started with this cat.

This is Dabloon Cat. Originally, they give you 4 Dabloons and would also sell Soup for 4 dabloons.

Since this moment, the economy has exploded. Currently, I have 733 Dabloons, a small frog companion, a guard dog who is a Karate Master, and a pretty hefty inventory including my Travel Bag, Water Bottle, and Steel Sword.

I use my Steel Sword to protect myself and others from thieves; even though I have a Rune of Protection. I am also part of a secretive anti-capitalist revolution to attempt and properly redistribute Dabloons equally in society.

Many creators in the Dabloon space work increasingly hard to create random encounters that show up on your FYP. What was once simple meme images of cats has evolved into high production value clips full of art and editing. You night be robbed in the streets of the city, you might join a pirate crew, or you might cook a cake with a cat, or meet Bugs the Food Certified cat who will sell you French Fries.

Tiktok has somehow created an entire shared world, with an economy and political leaders and infrastructure (ACAB includes Dabloon Police). Some people speak of inflation but the news stations are suggesting any gifts of more than 10 Dabloons may be fraudulent.

I guess what I'm trying to say is...

Why can't Tumblr do something like this. I don't wanna be on tiktok anymore.

[arctic-mizikio]

Was playing THK's fight yesterday with friends and one of my friends made the cat full of soup meme with them and I had to put out an artistic rendition, sorry everyone

(Also considered putting him in the area he's actually in but the white palace looked funnier and I liked the colors better. sorry everyone.)

[interruptingmooshroom]

I dunno people in the other parts of the world experience this

But you ever kill a bug that sucked your blood just now and upon doing so, get blood on your hand cuz it was full?

I imagine that “full of soup” cat meme but with bugs

[dullahandyke]

Hang on actually before I hit post limit.pinned post so I can edit this and have my tumblr thoughts even tho I'm post limited

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6.40PM

Yup okay hit the post limit <3 new followers please know this is normal

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6.47PM

Anonymous asked: did they put bugs in him again

Yknow it's hard to tell but I think they might have. Guys we need to get riku dewormed again, this keeps happening to him :(

Anonymous asked: I forgot I had notifs turned on for your blog . Oopsie daisy

HAHAAAAAAAA ANON I CACKLED.... flattered u have urgent coverage on which large surface I'm thinking abt being slammed into at any given time but ig this is an object lesson in paying too much attention to me or something

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8.06PM

Listening to a queer history podcast and it's so funny they're explaining to me what yuri is... I know ❤

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8.14PM

on my laptop now bcos i gotta study for this stupid test..d. and then afterwards theres a powerpoint im actually rlly gonna enjoy presenting but i gotta facking put it together, augh

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8.51PM

niche complaint but it sucks shit when animanga do the 'character suddenly becomes hot as part of a daydream/joke' gag and they dont go full bishie. give that man a delicate jawline NOW!!!

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9.13PM

really happy with this sticker on my laptop. whenever im feeling down i just rememebr that this man got a lobotomy

[ID: a black frame meme featuring Hajime Hinata from Super Danganronpa 2 at the chapter 1 cabin party, smiling and holding a glass of orange juice. It is captioned, "This man, got a lobotomy.]

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9.18PM

whew im a sneezy girl. the sneezing sneasler. wait thats a pokemon. ritalin on friday unless i have a heart murmur

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9.37PM

@effervescentleaf asked:

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9.39PM

i know im constantly posting abt my beard but its still weird as hell to consider that i have a beard that other people can see. when people look at me they see androgyny. what the fuck. i keep being drawn to people with beards and make-up/long hair/jewelry/whatever the fuck else as my favourite examples of gender non-conformity and like. IM that. im that with my stupid eyeliner. what the shit

also that reminds me im not gonna have time to do my eyeliner before my class test tomorrow :/ now i Could just go without it bcos i'll have a presentation later in the day that i should probably be serious for. but where is the fun in that. i will be wearing a hawaiian shirt instead of a t-shirt and thats all that can be expected of me <3

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9.55PM

i probs need to eat a proper meal but the call of pop tarts it is so great.... sighhhh i got the bread out the freezer for soup so ill see if thats defrosted. and if not. squints. cup noodles. kinda want the cup noodles anyway but the soup is gonna expire soon so i gotta be fuckinnn responsible and nutritious or whatever

sidenote i kind of rlly enjoy having just one long ledger of posts all day. kind of fun

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11.51PM

Ugh fuck my gay life I gotta make a PowerPoint... I'm tired I'm a bit sick i gotta sleeeep... wanted to make it fancy but ig that's fucked :(

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12.01AM

I saw a video of a cat and now I miss bubbles :( bubblesssss... I'm going home tomorrow tho so I'll see her then :)

[isa-ghost]

Outdoor Headcanons!

For the egg oc event run by @which-qsmp-egg-would :D

Here's Outdoor's ref!

He has 3 parents, 2 dads and 1 mom!

Trilingual! He speaks English, Spanish, and a secret third thing! (It's Elvish :P)

You bet your ass he's off somewhere making weird forest soups in A Bucket He Found. All other campers are welcome to join him. Let Them Cook!!

The second he's clean he's going right back outside to reacquaint himself with the soil.

Loves sunshine and thunderstorms equally. Please for the love of gods watch him closer when it's storming, he WILL go out to romp in puddles and watch lightning. He's got that Midwesterner syndrome, tornadoes and severe weather ain't shit 😤

He made the lil clusterfuck sun/flower/twig thing on his head (in egg form) himself! :D

He was meant to be named Outside by his parent because Ha Ha Almost Egg Pun. And then he was almost named Scout but he refused that one too because it's too basic. So he settled on Outdoor. No pun, not basic. Perfect.

The above probably makes it pretty clear, but he's a very headstrong egg! While he isn't exactly an anarchist and is by no means a brat, Outdoor knows what he wants and what he likes and you better have a worthy tradeoff to get him to do something he doesn't want to. He only cooperates via compromises, no "or elses."

LOVES to play pretend and roleplay. He's almost guaranteed to get a whole LARP game going with the entire camp. Or a good ol game of tag. He thrives on chasing people around. Hide and seek's fun too but with eggs? Too much can go wrong. (Side eyes a certain bear)

Outdoor has some. Um. *clears throat nonchalantly* Fa͝mil͘y ̧M͜e̸di̢c͝al His͢to̧r̀y̴ to be aware of, but he would actually really prefer if the average camper wasn't aware. His parent has informed the counselors and other relevant camp staff to ensure both Outdoor and other people at the camp are safe, happy, and healthy! Please do contact his parent for further questions via [my askbox]!

He has a twin sister, but she's too shy to join him at camp :(

Given that Chayanne is my favorite egg I am obligated to make my son Also a kick-ass little protector. But like. He does it himself, there's no family pressure behind it.

He has a temper. But hes been raised to have strong self-control in this regard and reserves it only for people or things that deserve it. Totally unrelated, I would not put it past him to bite Federation workers,,,,

He would be SO DOWN to go ghost hunting with other eggs, if any of them are brave enough.

Watches anime, but is super slow with getting through a show because most of his time is devoted to, well, being outdoors.

He used to loathe door puns (for some reason people will call him Door for short and he hates it) but then he started owning it and so help him, if you make a particularly bad one, he will find the nearest door and start spam opening/closing it while making hard eye contact.

LOVES swimming, please bring him to the nearest lake. He also loves wading in creeks and such looking for neat rocks and little critters like frogs.

Can do a backflip. Will find any excuse to show people how he can do a backflip. Please watch him do a backflip, his parent taught him how to do it. His parent is so cool.

He has the dumbest humor. It's his parent's fault. Sorry but [reverb burp/fart] is peak humor.

This child is so full of ADHD. Like SO full. And it shows, he's very much the hyperactive type. He also vocal stims, which, if not a meme he currently can't get enough with, is probably some kind of bird call or other wildlife noise. His biggest and longest-standing hyperfixations are on birds (esp corvids & raptors) and big cats!

[draconic-ichor]

The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf fanfic

Sun/moon x female oc

Part 7

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, brief mentions of medication/sickness/mucus, hand kink, vaginal fingering, Masturbation, brief mention of bugs

Summary: As Tabitha heals from her chest infection there’s a shift in her relationship with her two animatronic roommates…

Feedback appreciated, 18+. We finally at the smut chapter!

With the antibiotics, Tabby improved drastically over the next week. The boys doted on her around the clock, keeping her on a strict schedule of food and sleep. She noticed that they had started being much more handsy, petting her or simply touching an arm or leg whenever they could.

Besides touches, the boys started displaying little acts of courtship as well; mostly bringing tiny gifts or doing acts of service. Sun ramped up the pampering while Moon searched around for hidden treasures, while they both made artwork for her.

Tabby woke from a late nap by Moon crawling onto the bed. She rubbed her eyes, yawning.

Moon eagerly held out his hand to her, smile spanning his faceplate.

She blinked, looking into his palm curiously. Her body tensed: there was a large dead bug in his hand.

“Jesus!” She cursed, waking up fully.

Moon cocked his head, offering out the little prize like a proud cat.

“T-Thank you…for killing it.” Tabby managed, backpedaling to mask her initial shock.

He made expectant movements, smile faltering a bit.

She wilted, steeling herself before carefully picking up the insect, depositing it on the nightstand for later disposal.

Moon beamed, coming closer to cuddle her. He made a contented purring rasp from his voicebox, faceplate nuzzling into her side.

Success!

Tabitha never connected the dots, the animatronics keeping up the shenanigans all the while.

She didn’t know they were constantly replaying her words through their minds like a mantra echoing through their whole being.

Even when I’m not sick…I’ll love you.

I’ll love you.

I’ll love you…

By day ten she was well enough to return to work, the only lingering symptom hacking up mucus. Sun made comments about being a good house husband for her, his smile widening at her blush the statement brought.

“What if I get takeout and we watch a movie tonight?” Tabby offered, trying to change the subject, “To celebrate, you know?”

“Tired of soup?” Sun asked, amused.

“Well…” she wilted, adding quickly, “It’s not that it’s bad!”

Sun tilted his head, smiling mischievously, “Don’t check your thermos I packed then.”

“Is…Is it soup?” She asked worriedly.

When he looked away, smile widening, she feigned distress.

“Sun! Sun, is it soup?”

He started to crack, turning away as giggling bubbled from his speaker.

“Oh God, Sun!” Tabby hammed up, leaning against the counter as if she was starting to faint, “Please, don’t…please have mercy! Not more soup!”

“It’s soup.” He managed, voice eeking out before bursting into laughter.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Tabby cried, putting a hand over her face making him lose himself even more.

~

Over the time she spent at home, Tabby also hooked the boys up with a direct messaging app, it being much easier to use than email. She unwittingly opened herself up to them sending memes and pictures all hours of the day though.

Sun loved animal memes, especially ones with crying cats, while Moon normally sent obscure images with one word text.

Tabby checked her phone on her lunch, finding such things.

She took a selfie of herself with the thermos, sending it to Sun with the text: Soup time.

He sent a picture of a fat kitten back saying: full of soup.

She giggled.

Tabby: What food would you like with the movie?

Sun: Up to you! You’ll be eating it after all

Tabby: I was going to share, it’s a celebration

Sun: PIZZA

Tabby: Remember last time you ate melted cheese???

Sun: *crying cat*

Moon: No cheese.

Tabby: XD

Sun: *even more crying cat pictures*

After work Tabby decided to stop for Chinese takeout, heeding Moon’s earlier warning. She ordered extra, just in case the animatronics wanted to try any. After a period of caution the boys were in full swing of filling lost time with trying foods.

Her mind wandered as she waited, the wanderings not stopping even after entering the apartment.

While Sun greeted her and she placed the multiple small boxes on the counter, her thoughts pooled:

One downside to having a seven foot animatronic, that is constantly aware and active, stalking about the apartment is that there is never really a safe time to take care of more…personal needs. Especially after Tabby realized Moon was a damn near constant observer to her at night. For lack of better terms, she was pent up.

All of their little touches as of late pushing her closer to the edge. It had been a long time since she looked at a person and desired them in such a way. Of course she watched porn or read dirty stories, but she’d become almost jaded to real touch after past traumas.

But these were animatronics!

Just as human as anyone else she’d ever met, and much kinder than most men she crossed paths with.

And their hands…

Her mind roamed.

“Starlight?”

Tabby jumped, realizing Sun had been talking to her.

“Oh sorry…” she blinked, cheeks rosy as she asked, “What was that?”

He tilted his head, single optic narrowing as he gave a calculating eye over her. She avoided his gaze…curious.

“I was just telling you: I got a job!” He announced again, brightening.

“Oh!” Tabby smiled, but asked quickly, “What do you mean, though?”

“Well,” Sun’s rays spun excitedly, “I was asked to be Dakota’s and Donn’s new babysitter! I’ll be able to see them four days a week and it’s all during the day when you will be at work.”

“Sun, that’s so good!” Tabby smiled, happy for him, “That will be so good for you.”

“Yea!” He agreed, “Different apartment for a change of scenery. And she’s even going to pay me! I've never been paid for anything before.”

“That’s really good, Sun.” She reiterated, “Congratulations!”

“Thank you!” Sun’s rays spun again.

~

They sat closely on the couch, mimicking the pose taken previously when she was repairing their hands. Sun watched the movie, begging for little bites here and there.

Tabby, eating right out of the box to save on dishes, would lift the box up above her for him to steal some. His rays would spin happily every time.

As the food was finished and leftovers put away she relaxed back into him. Sun held her, cuddling becoming a normality since her bout of sickness.

He didn’t breathe, no rise and fall to his chest, no heartbeat when she lay her head back against him. She instead listened to the mechanisms inside, still little sounds of life that echoed from within.

The warmth that radiated from him made all those thoughts worm back into her mind…

Tabby felt a familiar ache, squeezing her legs together in an effort to push down whatever was threatening to bubble up. She tried to focus on the movie, playing with her shirt sleeve a bit nervously.

“Star…” Sun’s voice was a full octave lower than normal, the gravely notes sounding more like a purr as he drew out his words, “Your heart rate is so high.”

Tabby swallowed, face flushing a bit as she took a quick glance over the top of her head.

There was a gleam of knowing in his milky gaze. Sun tilted his head as she quickly looked back at the movie. “You’ve been distracted…” he perceived.

“Just fully getting over being sick.” She lied, hoping he didn’t pick up on it.

Problem was, she was a shit liar.

“No….” He drew out, curling a bit forward to look at her, “This is different.”

“Let me take care of you.” He whispered, a plea to the words. He wanted nothing more than to please her and be everything she needed, in every aspect of her life.

She felt her heartbeat in her throat, almost trembling.

“You do take care of me.” She attempted to stall, stomach making flips.

Sun’s face split into a gentle smile, “In every way.” His voice was suggestive, hand moving to her inner thigh.

Tabby’s face flushed, watching as his hand spanned across her thigh.

Damn his hands were big.

She gulped.

He felt her pulse quicken, detecting her temperature rising as his fingers rubbed small circles into her skin.

“Sunny, you don’t even have the parts.” She pointed out.

“I’m nothing if not creative.” He gave a languid smile, eyes hooded.

All the feelings she’d been trying to ignore bubbled over like a forgotten pot. Her core ached, every nerve crying out for him to continue.

“Okay.” She nodded, swallowing thick spit.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, just to be completely clear.

She nodded more fervently, “Y-Yes.”

The movie was quickly forgotten as his large hand slid higher, fingers softly tracing over her sex through her night shorts. She cursed herself internally, for not wearing panties, feeling moisture already pooling where he explored. The fabric quickly stuck to her skin, allowing him to feel every fold. When his fingers brushed over her rapidly engorging clit she made a little mewl.

She quickly swallowed the sound but it was too late; Sun’s head clicked to the side, calculating her every small detail. He repeated the action with more precision, drawing out another little sound.

The wet fabric was rapidly becoming too much to her over sensitive sex, the roughness scratchy.

Tabby swallowed down a sound of discomfort, Sun’s exploring paused.

“You okay, Starlight?” He asked worriedly.

“Y-Yea.” She managed, sucking in a breath, “Just give me a second.”

He nodded, pulling his hands away.

She let the thumping blood in her clit calm for a moment before leaning more heavily back into Sun to lift her hips off the couch. Tabby shucked off her night shorts, dropping them to the floor before snapping her legs closed against the cool air. Her eyes closed tightly, hearing his rays spin.

He waited for her to relax into him again, letting go of the tension in her legs. When he finally resumed his fondling it was more blundering with his inexperience. All the videos in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing.

“Ummm.” Tabby bit her lip, taking his wrist to guide him to her clit and away from her urethra opening.

Sun leaned back more, taking her with him to allow better access. He pulled his hand away completely, enjoying her little whine.

“Show me.” His voice was gentle. Her blush deepened, realizing he wanted her to touch herself.

Her hand dipped down over her sex, nervous with an audience. Sun tilted his head, ever attentive, watching every little movement. Her middle and index finger began to make tight circles over her clit, a little moan leaving her lips.

Sun’s optics widened, hand placed over her thigh almost possessively. He urged her to open more, letting him see. She gulped, allowing him to spread her legs, a thrill of excitement going up her spine.

He made a sound akin to a purr, hand gliding to overshadow her own. His fingers mimicked the action, her hand falling to the wayside to allow him full access.

His free hand curled into the meat of her fat thigh, keeping her good and open as she tried to tighten a bit. Leaving her clit, to her dismay as her climax waned, he explored down.

“Not here?” He questioned, fingers rimming her cunt.

“I-“ she gulped, “I don’t usually put a-anything in there.” She admitted.

“Never?” He asked, curiosity peaked.

“Well not never.” She gave a nervous giggle, “I've fooled around before with an ex but…that,” she swallowed, “…wasn’t much and was a long time ago.”

“Ah.” He nodded, fingers still circling, “May I?”

His question took a moment to sink in, Tabby giving a little nod, face crimson.

“Let’s play a little game.” His voice was low and soothing, free hand on her other thigh, “If things are good you say ‘green light’ and I’ll keep going. If you need a moment but don’t necessarily want me to stop, you say ‘yellow light’, okay?”

Tabby nodded, feeling his thumb rub delicate circles into the meat of her thigh.

“And if you want me to stop, you say ‘red light’, and I stop. No questions asked.” He tilted his faceplate down to rest on her crown, “Understand the rules.”

She nodded, but when he didn’t react she realized he wanted verbal confirmation. She swallowed down thick spit, core aching, “I understand.”

“Good, good.” He purred, fingers resuming their soft explorations, dipping down.

He heard her breath hitch as he breached her opening, single fingertip. Her body was tight, the single intrusion causing little quivers to run down her thighs.

S: She’s so pretty…

M: Pretty little star.

“G-Green light.” She managed, hand coming up to hold onto his arm. The metal was warm to the touch.

Sun pressed in further, velvety walls of her pussy greeting him. She was so soft, every piece and part. He marveled at how a single finger could reduce her to such a mess already, simply dragging it back and forth causing her to hiccup and moan.

M: More.

S: Patience…we don’t want to scare her off.

Sun soothed his counterpart, hearing a growl for a response. Despite his calm demeanor on the surface he was truthfully using everything he had not to lose himself in his excitement. He needed to be careful, to be patient…

Tabby was rapidly coming to full understanding of just how large Sun’s hands were, the point punctuated with the tap of a second finger asking entrance.

“Green!” She mewled, hips lifting off the couch.

Sun gently slid in the next finger, pausing for her body to adjust.

It burned, walls fluttering around him. She made a little sound, core clenching.

“You’re doing so well.” Sun whispered.

When he started to move again, it was with purpose. He wanted her to fall apart, needed to see her wanton, all for him.

She obliged, the two fingers stretching her and sending waves of pleasure she wasn’t able to give herself.

He listened to every little sound, changing his methods to elicit the most powerful from her. Forever calculating and filing away what made her squirm.

Sun swept over a bundle of nerves deep inside her, making her cry out. Startled, Sun froze.

“Green!” Tabby sobbed, needy, “Green, green.”

He resumed with a vengeance, abusing that newly found place. Pleasure burned from her core, Tabby giving small thrusts up to meet his movements.

His palm brushed her clit and she was done for, thighs pressing together as she came.

Stars burst in her eyes, a sobbing cry leaving her lips. Sun worked her carefully through it, giving little whispers of praise.

Coming back, the movements suddenly became overwhelming. Tears pricked her eyes as she gulped in needed air, managing the word, “Red.”

Sun paused, carefully withdrawing his fingers from her heat. A string of moisture connected them, optics trained on it.

Tabby panted, little quakes of pleasure running down her legs with the aftershocks.

She lay back into him, boneless, as she tried to regain herself. Eyes closed and trembling. It had been a good long while since she had such an intense orgasm.

Sun watched her, feeling proud of himself. His attention shifted to his fingers, still drenched with her release. He brought them closer, separating the digits to marvel at the connecting threads. Ever the creature of curiosity, he very carefully took one finger, running it over his tongue.

“Gross.” Tabby commented from below.

Sun withdrew, caught red handed, rays clinking back and forth a bit.

“It was for science,” he informed.

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound convinced, cuddling into him more. Sun shifted so she could be more comfortable, overjoyed to hold her this closely.

Part of her knew they needed to talk about what just occurred, discuss the implications. But that part was far off, fogged in her pleasure-addled mind. Right now sleep tugged her deeper, the pleasant warmth of the animatronic soothing her.

Once she was asleep, Sun carefully reached up and behind himself, pulling the cord on the lamp.

The room was sent into darkness, the soft glow of the tv the only light. They shifted forms: Moon taking the stage.

He glanced down at the slumbering form before him, Tabby cuddled into his chest. Worry spiked through him, hands up as if his touch would provoke her.

S: Just rest….She won’t bite.

Moon slowly relaxed, hands tentatively coming to rest along her back and head. His faceplate tilted to the side as he gently caressed her cheek. Tabby murmured.

Moon gave out a little purr, heart melting. His music box clicked on, playing soft soothing notes.

“Ours.” He hummed, petting her lovingly.

S: Ours.

Sun agreed.

~

She woke in her bed, tucked in carefully and with a new pair of pajama pants. She felt more rested than she had in weeks, despite the young hour, core feeling both sore and tingly.

Everything from the night before came rushing back in, clenching her thigh together from the memory.

She swallowed…they needed to talk.

Tabby slid open the balcony door, breath coming out in puffs from the cold. She smiled, “You’re a real sunflower now.”

Without moving, Sun commented back, “You are up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep…” she murmured.

Sun’s faceplate tilted towards her now. He searched over her features, eyes calculating.

“Is it me?” He finally asked.

“Well,” she gave a nervous smile, “You are involved.”

He stood, gesturing for them to go back inside.

“Don’t you need to finish charging?” She asked.

“I can catch up later.” He shook his head, “This is more important.”

She followed him in, sitting on the couch as he closed the glass door. He sat beside her, looking worried. They awkwardly avoided eye contact for some moments, silent.

“I feel like we should talk about last night.” She finally blurted out.

Sun nodded, fingers beginning to twitch.

“I know we should, but I don’t know how to talk about shit like this.” She went on, “It’s weird and I don’t know what we are anymore or what’s normal or even ok.”

She started to ramble, stress levels rising.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sun frowned, taking her hands to calm her. Tabby focused on the contact, taking in a breath.

“First…do you regret it?” Sun asked gently, adding, “We won’t be mad at you.”

She shook her head, not lifting her gaze.

“Okay, that’s something. Did…did you enjoy it?”

“Y-Yes.” She managed.

He tilted his faceplate closer, “Do you care about me?”

She nodded, eyes closed.

“And I care about you.” He softly pressed his forehead to hers, “Can that be enough for now?”

“But-,” she started, voice lilting.

“We want you to be happy…we want to take care of you.” Sun squeezed her hands, voice soft, “Things don’t need names…not yet.”

She sucked in a breath, nodding, “Just give me some time, please?”

“Of course!” Sun agreed, “All the time you need, all the time you need.” He squeezed her hands again, “We’ll be right here.”

[braiawrites]

Lost & Found - Chapter 8

Summary: Jude, Cardan, and Pellia head to Hollow Hall, where they encounter a few surprises—including a betrayal that could end everything. || Inspired by this prompt by @newblood-freya

Words: 9168

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence, death.

Links:

Fic Masterlist

CHAPTER SEVEN

Prompt by newblood-freya

Read it on AO3

Writing Masterlist

A/N: I barely edited/proofread this. What's that one meme? "No beta. We die like men." Something like that. Yeah.

Also, about what happens in this chapter...? I'm sorry in advance.

***

By the time Jude made her way back to her room, the pixie had helped herself to her host’s brushes and hair ties and rooted through her drawers looking for creams and cosmetics. 

Cardan couldn’t blame her for the frustration she’d shown upon finding absolutely nothing; he had already decided that once he was turned back into himself, whether they were enemies or not—and truly, he wasn’t certain where they would stand—he would have to talk with Jude about her dismal lack of reverence for her poor skin. 

Pellia had also taken it upon herself to loot the makeshift armoury beneath the bed and had found a sleek, curved knife—an assassin’s blade, she’d said, pointing out the hidden poison compartment in its hilt—which was now thrust through her belt. She’d also liberated a whetstone and was now sharpening the blade of the stolen guard’s sword, with no small amount of cursing as her shaky hands made the task more difficult. 

Cardan didn’t miss the way Pellia flinched and froze momentarily at the creak of the door when Jude entered, balancing a tray of food on one hand and a steaming teapot in the other. He headbutted the door closed as she brought the tray to her vanity.

“Dinner rolls, vegetable and chicken soup, fruit—and tea, to help with the pain,” Jude announced. 

“Chicken soup?”

Jude gave a one-shouldered shrug. “My sister likes to bring us human things sometimes. Here.” She nudged the tray toward Pellia. “And stop going through my stuff.”

The pixie smiled sweetly at the last part, fluttering ruby lashes at the mortal girl as if to say, Who, me? But she didn’t comment as she moved from the bed to the vanity. Cardan envied her ability to remain insolent in the face of Jude’s sharp-enough-to-cut-glass glare.

Pellia didn’t even flinch, just lifted the teapot one-handed, swore as she nearly dropped it, adjusted her grip, and poured, sloshing tea over the sides of her cup as she did. She set the pot down with a clunk and a grimace.

 “What’s in it?” Pellia’s teacup was only half full, droplets running down the porcelain sides. She watched through the steam as Jude listed off a handful of herbs on her hands. Those ruby brows went up, an expression she seemed to make often.

“Girl, that’s not painkilling; that’s, like, all-sensation-in-my-entire-body killing.”

“If you don't want it—”

“No, I absolutely do. Please,” she added with a wince as Jude gripped the pot’s handle. Cardan wasn’t certain whether that wince had been borne of pain or out of the mere fact that she’d said please so genuinely, without a hint of sarcasm. He got the feeling it was both in equal measures.

As Pellia ate, Cardan joined Jude at her wardrobe to save her from committing egregious fashion sins. He hissed his disapproval to veto the tunic she was reaching for—grey on grey was not the look, especially when the leggings were a cool shade while the tunic carried warm undertones—and nosed the one beside it. 

“Jude,” Pellia said quietly from her spot at the vanity. “We need to find Balekin as soon as possible. I read the letter to Madoc, and—hold on. Did you just take fashion advice from a cat? I wish I had that on video.”

Jude’s cheeks warmed slightly and Cardan meowed indignantly. I may be a cat but I still know how to dress! he wanted to shoot back. 

At the same time, Jude demanded, “Why were you going through my stuff?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Her tone was, somehow, both genuinely confused and unbearably haughty, but before Jude could respond, Pellia waved it off and pointed out, “Anyway, you know cats can’t see the same colours we can, right?” 

Cardan would have protested, but he had noticed colours were different, especially in the beginning. He was mostly used to it now, though, and he knew some of Jude’s wardrobe from memory anyway. This top in particular was a desaturated dark blue with green undertones, long sleeves, and a deep V-neck that she had first worn about a year ago. He knew that because the image of her in that shirt, the way it hugged her waist just right, had blazed in his mind every time he’d closed his eyes for a solid week afterward. He knew good fashion when he saw it.

“Stop changing the subject,” Jude snapped.

“I wasn’t, I just thought you should be aware that you are taking fashion advice from the equivalent of a half-blind—”

Cardan’s angry growl cut her off.

“Okay, alright, sorry,” she retreated. “Don’t get your tail in a twist, kitty.”

“The letter,” Jude demanded.

“Right, yes. The deal I made with our favourite prince was that he wouldn’t harm my sister so long as I did what he wanted. But if Balekin thinks I’m dead, then there’s no more deal. There’s no one holding him accountable.” Her hands curled into fists on the hem of her borrowed tunic. “I don’t want to think about what he might do to her then.”

“You—”

“Should have thought the deal through more and made him promise to release her once I’d caught Catboy over here?” she snapped. “Yeah, I know. I was a bit panicked, considering my fourteen-year-old human sister was kidnapped by Elfhame’s soggiest piece of toast.”

“I—what?”

“Haven’t you ever, like, spilled water on your toast? And then it gets all gross and mushy? It’s literally the worst.”

Jude shook her head. “I can’t say I have. But regardless, I wasn’t trying to blame you for it. I was just going to say, you don’t look like you’re in the best shape to go tonight. Maybe we should wait a day.”

“No.” Pellia’s tone was sharp, her eyes flinty, her mouth set in a determined line. “I can do what I have to. I don’t care about myself; I just need Amber to get home safe.” More quietly, she added, “Please.”

Jude breathed deeply, then sighed. Slowly, she nodded. “Fine. I can tell I won’t be able to convince you otherwise, so we’ll go tonight. But for now, rest.”

Pellia nodded, one corner of her mouth tweaking upward in an almost-smile. “Thank you,” she said, and the gratitude in the pixie’s red eyes was the nicest emotion Cardan had seen yet. It almost made her seem approachable.

“Try to eat something,” Jude instructed, heading into her small bathing room. “I’ll be back.” 

Pellia gave a distracted wave of assent and mumbled something that could have been, “Try to stop me,” through a mouthful of soft bread. She ate quietly for a while, supplementing the meal with sips of tea. 

“This stuff’s strong,” she remarked with a nod of approval toward the teapot. “Painkilling, indeed.”

Cardan would have missed the next thing she said, breathed into her teacup as she sipped, had he not been bestowed the lovely gift of heightened cat hearing: “Maybe if I drink enough it’ll kill my emotions, too.”

He twitched his ears, letting out a short mrrow of laughter. The pixie glanced at him and huffed, something between a smirk and a wry smile crossing her lips. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought the same thing. You want some?”

In previous times, Cardan might have said yes. Yes, tea to fix the ache in his heart. Yes, tea to let him drink away the piercing, twisting blade in his gut each time his father overlooked him or his brother tossed an insult his way. Yes, because he was empty and miserable and he loathed it, loathed himself, loathed everything about this world and his place in it.

But now? Now he wasn’t so sure. 

Pellia, apparently, hadn’t missed a single one of the thoughts or feelings flickering across his face. She hummed, setting her cup down to take a spoonful of soup. 

“Perhaps I did you a favour then, dear prince.”

Cardan flattened his ears at that. Certainly he had been more content in these weeks with Jude than he had been—perhaps ever in his entire life—but he wouldn’t go so far as to say she was deserving of his thanks.

“Or not.” Again, Pellia had read his thoughts on his face. 

The hair along his spine puffed up involuntarily. It was unnerving—how she could read him so easily, even in this form, even having never known him. 

“Don’t worry, kitty,” she smirked. “I won’t tell her how much you’ve enjoyed being her pet. It can be our little secret.” She punctuated the statement with a wink. In response, Cardan gave her an eyeroll of epic proportions. 

It only served to make her laugh, which seemed to cause her pain, judging by her wince and the way she downed the remaining tea in her cup. Despite himself, Cardan felt a small amount of smug satisfaction at that fact. 

It didn’t last long. Her eyes fixed on his in a way he just knew was meant to be antagonistic. Then she dipped a corner of her bread in the soup and proceeded to chew with her mouth open. He glared back, ears flattened, and hissed his most menacing hiss. He wished Jude would hurry up with her bath. At least she wasn’t annoying on purpose, unlike Pellia, who seemed to delight in getting the last word. 

Rather than sit here with the pixie, Cardan headed for the balcony door, which Jude always left slightly ajar for him. But as he slipped outside, he heard Pellia call, “Don’t you want to stay and supervise me? Make sure I don’t get into trouble or steal her prized possessions or something?”

He turned back with a grumble because, damnit, she was right. If he left, nothing was stopping her from putting her grubby little hands all over everything in Jude’s room. Not that he would be much help if she did decide that was what she wanted to do—he was a cat and she was clearly trained in combat and treachery—but at least he would know she had done something. He could tell Jude, and Jude could end the pixie’s whole career with one punch. He’d seen her training, knew how fast she could move and what strength was hidden in her mortal bones. Jude was beautiful and deadly, and Pellia was roughly five feet tall and had just spilled tea on the desk while trying to pour herself another cup. 

So Cardan stayed, and Pellia continued to be dreadful by the mere fact of her existence and without even doing anything at all. 

They were quiet for a long while, Pellia staring across the room to the window as she ate small portions at a time, and Cardan shifting awkwardly every now and then. Pellia turned her unnatural gaze toward him, considering. His skin prickled. He wasn’t fond of the way she seemed to be sizing him up, fitting pieces of a puzzle together in her head, manipulating him into some undoubtedly terrifying plan as though he were a pawn at her disposal. He fought the twitching whiskers that were the cat equivalent of a laugh. She noticed regardless, and her own lips quirked up in a tiny, barely-there smile that didn’t match the hollow, aching look in her eyes.

She glanced away, blinking. When she looked back again, Cardan almost couldn’t see that depth hidden behind her bravado. Almost.

“Listen, kitty,” she began. Her mouth opened slightly, and she floundered a moment before she was able to force the next words through her lips on a quivering breath. “No matter how we prepare, this isn’t going to go how we plan it. Guaranteed.” 

She set her tea down and wiped her hands on Jude’s borrowed clothes. Her fingers drifted absentmindedly to the dagger in her belt, following its curves, tracing the seam around the top of its hilt. She nodded to herself, as if confirming something, before her eyes flicked up to meet his own again. 

“We need to plan for betrayal. From all sides.” Cardan's skin prickled under the intensity of her eyes boring into his. Slowly, he nodded, flicking his ears forward. 

I’m listening, the gesture said. 

A grim, determined smile played across the pixie’s face. “Okay. So here’s what I’m thinking…”

~ ~ ~

Jude towel-dried and braided her wet hair after her bath. She had taken her time to soak and wash as she sorted through everything that was unfolding. Pellia’s explanation of why she was here in the first place, as well as confirming Balekin as the mastermind behind it all, had helped, but it didn’t solve things completely. 

Neither Jude nor the pixie knew why Balekin had bothered with Cardan’s cat-metamorphosis in the first place, instead of just killing him the way Jude suspected he’d had done to Dain. Although, she supposed, considering Dain was widely thought to be the most popular contender for the next High King, it would make sense that Balekin might want him out of the way. And Cardan—pre–cat era, of course—was cruel and a menace, and would have presented less of a threat.

“Still seems like it would have been simpler to just kill him,” Jude mumbled to herself, then immediately felt bad for entertaining the thought.

She dressed quickly before leaving the bathroom, a habit she had gotten into since discovering her feline friend was actually the missing faerie prince. 

In her room, she found that Pellia had finished eating and passed out on the bed, curled on top of the sheets. Her dishes were arranged neatly on the vanity.

Cardan chirped softly in greeting from his spot by the window. 

“Has she been out long?” Jude whispered.

Cardan flicked his tail and stood for a long, languid stretch.

Jude sighed. “You could at least try to communicate with me.”

The annoyance that flared in response to Cardan’s answering yawn was quickly dampened as he twined between her feet, demanding to be picked up. She obliged.

“By tomorrow, you’ll be yourself again,” she told him, scratching the soft fur on his jaw. He purred at her touch, and she tried to pretend it didn’t make her heart ache. She wasn’t sure when she had grown so fond of him. Maybe, after this was over, she would get a cat. It wouldn’t be the same, though.

A sudden apprehension struck her. “Either that, or we’ll all be dead.”

Cardan’s purring halted abruptly at the words, and he twisted in her arms to meet her gaze, his amber eyes steady and determined. Softly, he rested one fuzzy front paw over Jude’s heart, giving her a slow blink.

There was something in his gaze, an emotion that took Jude a moment to decipher: trust. A small, hesitant smile fought its way onto her lips, and Cardan chirped softly, stretching out to poke her nose with his own. 

Then he flopped bonelessly back into her arms, lifting his chin so she could scratch his favourite spot. 

Jude rolled her eyes and released her grip on him. “Oops.” 

He scrambled as he tumbled from her arms, somehow still managing to land gracefully, and flicked his tail at her as he strutted away, nose in the air.

She didn’t bother trying to hide her smile as she began gathering the supplies they would need to confront Balekin, leaving the cat prince of Elfhame to sulk.

 ~ ~ ~

The moon was sinking low in the ever-lightening sky as the trio made their way toward Hollow Hall once more. Pellia set the pace, a steady march, while Jude brought up the rear with the lithe black form of Cardan riding fluidly on her shoulder. She had quickly discovered that walking behind her was the only way she could reliably keep track of the pixie’s movements. The red-haired girl moved so quietly, her steps often syncing with Jude’s own. Despite their truce, Jude didn’t entirely trust the other girl at her back. 

They walked in silence for the first half of the journey, the only sounds coming from their soft footfalls on the leaf-littered floor and the whisper of wind through the Milkweeds. Then Pellia stopped abruptly, and Jude promptly collided with the other girl’s back. Cardan meowed in alarm, scrambling to keep his place on Jude’s shoulder. His claws dug through her shirt and into her skin.

“Thanks for the warning,” Jude quipped, as equally annoyed at the cat prince as at Pellia.

“Ow,” Pellia accused. “That was rude.”

“You just stopped with no warning.” 

“My bad. I didn’t realise I needed your permission to stop walking.”

“You—”

“Look,” Pellia interrupted, pointing at a low bush a few steps into the underbrush. Its dark leaves were glossy and adorned with sharp points. There was some kind of black berry clinging to the stems. The pixie crouched next to the bush and began picking the fruit.

“You’re hungry?” Jude didn’t know Pellia very well, but after the way she’d refused to wait any longer to go after her sister, she was a little taken aback by the pixie’s apparent lack of focus. Then again, stopping for a picnic was certainly unexpected, and nothing about Pellia had been predictable so far.

“No, idiot,” Pellia clarified. “It’s sanguineberry.”

Jude stepped forward to take a closer look. The berries, which she’d thought were black, actually appeared to be a deep red in colour and were the size of cherry tomatoes. They were clustered in twos and threes, but Pellia twisted them off the plant one at a time.

“Never heard of it.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to.” The redhead shrugged. “Most people think it’s mildly poisonous—stomach cramps, excessive sweating, maybe vomiting a bit of blood for a day or two if you’re really unlucky—so it isn’t really gathered much. But actually—” she unsheathed the assassin’s dagger and pierced the flesh of a particularly large berry—“it’s a powerful analgesic.” 

Pellia brought the punctured berry to her lips and sucked the juice out. It deflated like a juiced orange. 

“Pellia!” Jude exclaimed, trying to grab the fruit from the pixie’s hand. She was too late. The pixie had already swallowed it, leaving the skin slightly deflated. Jude’s hands curled into fists. “I really don’t think vomiting blood is something you need to add to your condition right now.” 

The pixie just laughed. “Do you actually think I’d eat something that I just told you was poisonous?”

“It is a distinct possibility.” From his spot on her shoulder, Cardan made a sound that was suspiciously close to laughter.

“Shut it, catboy,” Pellia rolled her eyes. “It’s only the skin that you can’t eat. Look.” She peeled the skin back to reveal a pulpy red interior. It looked like a warfield. “The juice is safe to ingest—and, like I said, it’s a great painkiller.” She grinned a seemingly-bloody smile, her teeth stained from the sanguineberry juice. “If you eat the skin though, then it’s a pain causer.”

“Ha ha,” Jude deadpanned. She was about done with this conversation. “Time’s ticking. We need to go.”

Pellia nodded, suddenly serious. “I just need to collect some of these first.”

At Jude’s slight frown, the pixie smirked. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all part of the plan.”

~ ~ ~

“Where did you come from?!” 

The guard on patrol outside Hollow Hall was easy to sneak up on and easier to dispatch. Pellia had barely finished quipping, “Your mom’s house,” by the time Jude had the guard on the ground, face in the dirt. He was thrashing, demanding to know about his mother and whether she was safe. 

“My humour is lost on you,” the pixie sighed. 

“That was supposed to be funny?” It seemed more like psychological warfare than humour to Jude, but then, maybe that was what Pellia found humorous. 

“At least he gets it,” Pellia shrugged, gesturing to Cardan, whose whiskers were twitching in a cat’s smile. 

They left the guard—incapacitated but alive—behind and headed for the door. They halted at the sound of a voice.

“Alas returns the lost prince,” it said.

Cardan growled. Jude’s hand dropped to the hilt of her sword. Pellia let out an impressive string of curses at the sight of the enchanted door and its inhuman face. Her dagger had suddenly appeared in her hand.

“I thought you’d been here before,” Jude said. “This seems like a pretty difficult thing to miss.”

“I didn’t use the front door that time,” Pellia said, scowling at the enchanted face. “I’d heard about this thing but what the hell—who dreamed you up?”

“What would your mother think of that vocabulary?” the door chided. “Or that nursemaid of hers, for that matter? What was her name—Annie? No: Angela! I’m assuming she’s the one who raised you? Spirited you away so you couldn’t follow in your mother’s footsteps?” 

“How do you—actually, nevermind. You’re creepy and I don’t need to tell you anything.” Pellia moved to shove the door open, but it spoke again.

“Ah, ah. Tell me where you’ve been hiding all of these years?” it rasped. “It mustn't have been on the Isles, or I would have known.”

Pellia gritted her teeth so hard that Jude could have sworn she heard them creaking. Her grip on the dagger’s hilt was turning her knuckles white. “One more word and I dig the point of this into your eye,” she threatened.

The door swung open.

With a last glare at the enchanted door, Pellia dragged Jude and Cardan inside. She led them out of sight of the entrance and its magical guardian before turning to face Jude. 

“From here on, we split up,” she said. 

Jude nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want to find your sister while I go after Balekin?”

Pellia gave the other girl a half-smile. “I’m sure,” she said. Jude’s frown deepened as the pixie added, “I need you to promise me something.”

“What…?”

“I need you to promise that, no matter what you see, you won’t interfere. Balekin is my fight. I just need you to find my sister.” Pellia’s eyes were blazing once again with that same determination. It sent a chill down Jude’s spine.

After a moment’s hesitation, she agreed. “Okay. You get Balekin. I’ll find Amber.”

“Thank you. And good luck.” 

“You too.” 

Pellia turned her ruby gaze on Cardan, and they locked eyes. “Ready, catboy?”

Mrrroow, he responded.

Pellia smiled then slipped away, practically melting into the shadows.

~ ~ ~

“She’s kind of annoying, but I hope she doesn’t get herself killed,” Jude said. She was following Cardan through the crooked stone walls of his one-time home. 

Was it still? He wasn’t so sure. Although he could never say so, when he closed his eyes and thought about home, the image he found was starting to look less like Hollow Hall or the Palace and more like whitewashed walls, wooden beams, and smoky windows. It was starting to look like the arms of a mortal girl who had dedicated so much time and effort into returning his sorry self to fey form. 

Cardan turned into a small room—a closet, really, and scratched at the carpeted floor. Jude got the hint, running her fingers over the rug until she found the catch in one corner where it didn’t quite fit so snugly against the wall. She drew it back to reveal a trap door and, beneath that, a ladder extending into the darkness.

“Fantastic,” she muttered. “I hope I’m not about to lower myself into a hole in the ground for no good reason.”

Cardan was half-amused and half-insulted by the implication in her words. She’ll be there, he wanted to say, but he could only chirp reassuringly.

Jude scratched under his chin with one finger before inviting him to climb up onto her shoulder. 

Happily, he purred. 

At the bottom of the ladder, the tunnel ran out to either side. He kept watch to make sure no one was coming, his feline eyes comfortable in the dim light. When they reached the bottom, Cardan gave a soft mrrow and gestured to the rightmost path. 

The tunnel was wide but low. Had he been in his own body, Cardan would have had to hunch slightly to avoid scraping his head against the earthen ceiling. As it was, Jude had a couple of inches to spare, even at the lowest points, and Cardan was able to cling to her shoulder as she walked. This suited him just fine—he didn’t find the damp, earthy scent particularly appealing, and he didn’t want it all over his paws, thank you very much.

The tunnel began to slope downward and continued like that for another hundred metres or so. Amber’s makeshift cell was at the bottom of that slope. 

The rooms beneath Hollow Hall weren’t meant to house prisoners—not really. They were a safety precaution and a way to sneak around, known only by Balekin, Cardan, and a small handful of Balekin’s inner circle. 

Amber was being held in the hastily blocked off back half of an alcove that Cardan distinctly remembered as having been used to store unopened wine casks at some point. On a hook set into the hard-packed earthen wall was a key, dangling alone on a large keyring. The metal bars of the cell looked like they had been repurposed from a fence or a gate somewhere. A bucket in the corner served as a chamberpot, and a few cushions and a blanket was her bed. 

All in all, it was better than Cardan had expected, considering his brother’s habitual treatment of humans. 

“Amber?��� Jude asked, stepping into the alcove. The girl at the back of the cell looked up. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen. Her mousey brown hair was tattered, her brown eyes wide and cautious as they took in the girl and cat before her. A smatter of freckles stood out against sickly skin that hadn’t seen sunlight in weeks. 

“You’re a person—a human,” Amber said, studying Jude. “Are you… awake?”

“Um, yes.”

The girl sat up a little straighter. “The others weren’t. The servants. They’re like zombies.”

Cardan could hear Jude swallow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the way her brow furrowed, her jaw tightening. 

“I’m awake,” she promised. “I’m Jude. I’m a friend of your sister’s.”

That got the girl’s attention. Amber’s whole face lit up and she was suddenly on her feet. Cardan couldn’t imagine feeling that much excitement toward any of his siblings, even the not-so-bad ones. 

“Pellia’s here?” Hope was blossoming on Amber’s features, brightening her eyes and bringing her back to life.

“She is,” Jude said, grabbing the key to the cell door. “We’re getting you out.”

With a metallic click and an aching groan, the door to the cell swung out, and Amber followed, throwing her arms around Jude. The young girl’s relief was palpable. When her eyes started to water, it sent a pang through Cardan’s heart, so strong he had to look away.

That was why he was the first to see the figure that loomed out of the dark tunnel: Madoc.

“I was hoping it would not come to this,” the Redcap’s voice rumbled off the walls. Jude spun around, shoving the girl behind her.

“Madoc,” she said. Cardan knew her well enough by now to recognise the slight tilt of unease on her mouth, the way her breathing sped up ever-so-slightly when she was surprised, just for a heartbeat, before she steadied it again. He felt the hair along his back stand straighter in response to Jude’s emotions. 

Apparently Madoc could read her too. “You think I was unaware all this time that you were sneaking around with that?” He jerked his chin in Cardan’s direction, a disdainful sneer curling his lips.

“A cat?” Jude said, eyes narrowing. 

Cardan hissed, half at Madoc and half at Jude for acting like he was some common stray—he knew her angle, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“You are too intelligent to think I would believe that you have not figured out who that is. You broke into my office, stole my correspondence, and expected that I would not notice? Unlikely.”

Jude shrugged. “Worth a shot.” She was edging away from the open cell and toward the freedom of the alcove, nudging Amber along with her.

“Not really.” Madoc rested a hand on his sword hilt, a subtle threat. “Stop shuffling and put the girl back in the cell.”

Jude’s hand found the hilt of her own sword. “No.”

The identical shiiiing! of two swords being unsheathed simultaneously sang into the damp earthen tunnels. Cardan leaped to grab hold of Amber, trying to drag her out of harm’s way as Jude and her foster father faced off. 

There was no escape with Madoc blocking the alcove entrance, so Cardan nudged the mortal girl toward the wall, where she could slip behind the open door. That way, Madoc wouldn’t be able to corral them back into the cell. A quick glance up showed him a wide-eyed, white-faced Amber. He clambered up to her shoulder and leaned in, forcing a purr in an effort to comfort her. 

As steel rang against steel, Cardan tried to figure out if the trembling he was feeling was Amber’s or his own. Probably both. 

He flattened his ears as Madoc slid his blade down the length of Jude’s, bringing him inside her guard. She tried to shove him back but he disengaged with a quick twist and sent her stumbling back. As she fell, the sachet of protective herbs she kept on a cord around her neck slipped from under her tunic. Madoc lashed out with one green clawed hand, snapping it from her neck. 

Cardan could feel the magic tingling in the air as the Redcap opened his mouth to speak. 

He couldn’t let Madoc glamour Jude.

That was the only thought on the cat prince’s mind as launched himself, all claws and teeth and feline fury—straight onto Madoc’s face. Hissing and spitting, Cardan clung to the older fey, raking his nails across green skin until blood oozed from various wounds. 

Madoc screamed—in pain and anger, deep and earth-rumbling and vicious. His sword fell from his grip, hitting the dirt floor with a dull thud. He clawed at the cat whose nails were so deeply embedded in his skin, howling the whole time. His hands were bruising, grasping Cardan around the chest and neck, and try as he might, the prince couldn’t fight him off.

Thankfully, there was no need: Jude, recovering her feet and her weapon, saw the opportunity as it presented itself. She planted one foot against the wild, reeling Redcap’s hip and shoved. 

Her foster father stumbled back, arms cartwheeling as he tried to keep his balance. Cardan sprang away as he fell into the cell. Amber, still behind the door, slammed it shut, and the lock engaged with a loud click!

No one spoke. Jude pocketed the key, and she and Madoc stared at each other for a long time, their panting breaths—one tired, one angry—the only sounds in the subterranean room. Slowly, Jude picked up the sachet of herbs from where it had fallen. She re-knotted the broken cord and strung it over Amber’s neck.

“To keep you safe from glamours,” she explained, but her voice seemed quiet and far away, as though it had been swallowed by the earth. 

Blood roared in Cardan’s ears. He tried to take stock of his body—was everything intact? He twitched his tail, his ears, then did a full-body shake. Nothing hurt too badly. His ribs and neck were a little sore from where Madoc had grabbed him, but nothing was broken, no blood drawn.

Not mine, at least, he thought, flexing blood-sticky claws. He shuddered. There was no way he was cleaning that off the cat way. 

A hand brushed his shoulder and he looked up into walnut eyes. Jude. He climbed into the proffered arms. She felt warm and solid, and Cardan could almost feel the tension of the past few minutes drain from his body.

“Thank you,” Jude whispered.

She cast one more glance at her foster father, whose hands  were wrapped around the metal bars, before taking the Amber’s hand and leading her out of the alcove. 

“Let’s go get your sister.”

~ ~ ~

The silver-eyed prince was in his room when she found him. 

The heavy wooden door was cracked open, a sliver of wavering torchlight spilling out into the hallway. An invitation, taunting. Apparently, Balekin was expecting her.

So much for the element of surprise. She almost wanted to laugh, to release the nervous energy that was curling in her stomach, rendering her body electric with anticipation. 

This is it. She was either going to free Cardan and save her sister… or die trying. Hopefully the first option, but still, her mind spun. Everything felt so similar to the first time—when she’d arrived in Faerie to confront Balekin, furious and fear-filled—and look how badly that had gone, her mind insisted.

She shook her head, as though doing so could dislodge the thoughts from her brain. She’d been stupid that time, rushing in with no plan, wielding weapons and white-hot rage as her tools of revenge. This time, she was ready. This time, she had a plan and allies and she knew what she was facing. This time, she was writing the rules.

Pellia drew her sword, the one she’d stolen from the Palace guard what felt like aeons ago. Raising it to deflect a surprise attack, she pushed the door open with one foot and stepped inside. 

The centre of the room was empty except for the large area rug covering the flagstones, the furniture pushed back against the walls. In a large armchair at the far side of the room, his loose white shirt unbuttoned halfway to expose his bare chest, sat Balekin. 

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming in,” he sneered. He held a goblet in one hand, swirling its contents idly. A naked sword was propped against the armrest next to him. “Where’s your entourage?”

Pellia said nothing, just moved farther into the room.

“Nothing to say today? No witty remarks?” 

She stopped at the edge of the rug and Balekin tsked. “Boring,” he said. “I thought you’d be more interesting now, not less. Maybe your sister’s life on the line is taking its toll, hm?”

“And whose fault is that?” Pellia responded, red eyes meeting silver.

The prince smirked. “She would have been safe if you had upheld your end of the bargain.”

“I did my part!” The words slipped from her mouth without any forethought. Her sword point was aimed at Balekin’s chest, like he wasn’t half a room away. Pellia gritted her teeth, calming her voice. “I did my part,” she repeated. “I was working for you. I was following your orders. I couldn’t have done anything else.”

Balekin hummed noncommittally. “I must say, I thought you would be a little more difficult to catch. You disappointed me, Nerium.”

“You’d know about disappointments,” she said acidly. “And can we talk about the whole ordering-to-kill-me thing, ‘cause that wasn’t part of the deal! They fucking tortured me, and I didn’t talk, but you couldn’t even do a little thing like not order my death?!”

“You were a liability.”

“Fuck off.”

“And so the teeth come out,” he chuckled. “Does that not feel better?”

“Things will be ‘better’ when I have my sister, and you’re six feet under,” Pellia snapped.

Balekin smirked. “Bold words, considering you’re the reason she’s in this situation in the first place.”

“Respectfully,” Pellia said, trying hard to keep a leash on her temper, “if one more dumbfuck sentence like that comes out of your mouth, I am going to violate the Geneva Convention.” 

When Balekin’s face flickered with confusion, she said, “War crimes. I’m going to commit war crimes.”

The dark prince smirked. “You plan to fight me? In that state?” He laughed, a full-belly laugh that made Pellia want to throttle him.

She knew it wasn’t the best plan. She knew she was weak, still unhealed from her injuries and recovering from torture and starvation. But she had no other choice. She would fight, and maybe she would even get in a few good cuts before he took her down. She just had to keep him occupied long enough for Jude and Cardan to free her sister.

“Are you scared?” she taunted.

Balekin chuckled again, recognising the bait for what it was. “I am not the one who should be afraid,” he said, draining the contents of his goblet and trading the cup for his sword. He rose to his feet. “Try not to bleed all over my carpet.”

Torchlight flickered off live steel as they circled, each tracking the other’s every move. Their feet shuffled across the rug. The fireplace crackled in the background. 

Maybe, if she was lucky, Pellia could get the first hit—incapacitate him early and end the fight before he could take advantage of her injured state. 

Fast as a snake, she struck, aiming for the muscle between his neck and shoulder with an overhead slash. Balekin met her attack, deflecting her sword and shoving his own point-first toward her throat. 

She swayed out of the way just in time, though his blade did catch the side of her neck. Blood welled from the scratch. Pellia ignored it, stepping into him in an attempt to catch him off guard. Steel screamed against steel as her blade slid down the length of his. They were locked toe-to-toe. She gritted her teeth as the prince pressed down harder. This may not have been her brightest idea, and she knew he recognised it too.

“Bad choice,” he said and hooked her ankle with one foot. Pellia went down. Her back hit the ground hard, driving the air from her lungs. She had just enough sense to roll out of the way before Balekin’s sword plunged down, piercing the rug where she had been a heartbeat before.

Pellia scrambled to her feet, eyes wide, and brought her sword back to the guard position. She was moving on autopilot, her muscles taking over while her dazed mind caught up. Balekin let her rise, smirking. 

They circled again, the prince’s movements smooth and predatory while Pellia was still trying to catch her breath. Her fractured rib burned, but she pushed the pain aside, blinking rapidly. She just had to keep him occupied until Cardan found them. 

This time, Balekin attacked first. He went low, slashing for her thighs, and Pellia brought her own sword down to meet him. The clash of their weapons rang off the stone walls. 

She disengaged, knocking his blade away, and that was when she saw the opening. With all her strength, Pellia lunged forward, her swordpoint thrusting for his heart—

Balekin’s smile was that of a predator, baring its teeth as it moved in for the kill. He swayed out of harm’s way, caught her wrist in one hand, and threw her across the room.

Pellia soared. 

During the brief moment she was in the air, she found herself hoping that Cardan wouldn’t be too angry with her for failing. She hoped he and Jude would find Amber and help her get home. She hoped her sister would be okay without her.

Then Pellia slammed into the ground.

~ ~ ~

Jude followed close on Cardan’s heels as he led the way through the stone corridors of Hollow Hall. She held her sword ready in one hand, holding onto Amber’s wrist with the other. She tried not to be frustrated at the slow but steady pace they were setting—it wasn’t fair to expect Amber to keep up after having been locked in a cell for who knows how long. 

Still, she worried about Pellia facing Balekin alone when she was already injured. She would need to be one hell of a fighter to have a shot at winning that match up, and while she carried herself like someone who was capable, Jude didn’t get the sense that Pellia knew when to back down. 

Which is why, despite her promise not to interfere, Jude wanted to be there to step in if it looked like Balekin had the upper hand. But first, she had to get there.

The sound of clashing steel rang out in the next corridor. Jude slowed as she rounded the corner. Halfway down the hall was an open door that spilled light from within and, about ten feet earlier, a shallow alcove. The trio stopped before it.

“Stay here,” Jude said to Amber, tucking her into the space. “And hang onto this—just in case.” Jude unsheathed the long dagger at her hip, handing it to the girl. 

“Is Pellia in—” Amber started, brown eyes wide. She was craning her neck to see past Jude to the open door.

“Yes,” Jude said, pushing the girl back gently and forcing her to meet her eyes. “And I’m going to help her but you need to stay here, got it? I can’t help Pellia and watch out for you.”

Swallowing, Amber nodded, taking the weapon.

It was confirmation enough for Jude. She headed for the open doorway, Cardan racing at her heels—and stopped just inside the threshold, in time to see Pellia crash into the rug-covered floor. 

Jude winced, stepping farther into the room, sword raised. Cardan hurtled past her to stand between the downed pixie and the menacing form of his older brother. Balekin regarded the cat calmly, spun his own sword, and glanced sideways at Jude. 

“Oh, look: your friends have come to your rescue,” he taunted as Cardan hissed, hair puffed and claws out. 

Pellia was on her back, eyes closed and chest heaving as she tried to recover the air that had been forced from her lungs. Cardan put one soft black paw on her shoulder. “Took you long enough,” she coughed. 

Balekin looked almost annoyed. “Having others fight your battles for you, Nerium?” he said. “I thought you had more pride than that.”

Still breathless, Pellia struggled to sit up. “I do,” she said, swaying and blinking hard. She looked at the mortal girl, red eyes meeting walnut. “Jude, you promised.” 

Jude’s lips thinned, displaying her scepticism. She searched the other girl’s face, trying to find something to indicate the pixie was okay, but Pellia was pale and swaying unsteadily. 

Yes, she had promised not to step in. But if she didn’t, the chances of Pellia being alive to take her sister home at the end of this were slim. Jude tightened her grip on her weapon.

“Pellia—” Jude started, but the pixie cut her off. 

“No,” she snapped. “This is my fight.”

Balekin laughed. “Stubborn to the end. Will you still feel that way when I run you through?”

Pellia smiled back, cold and ruthless. “Violence isn’t the only way to do battle, Balekin. You’re playing my game now; maybe next time you should read the rules.”

She grabbed Cardan by the scruff of his neck, hauling the cat toward her and climbing to her feet. He scrambled as she lifted him into the air, flailing against her hold until she drew her stolen dagger. She placed its tip against the delicate skin of Cardan’s throat, and he stopped struggling. 

She’s going to kill him, Jude thought, stunned. She could feel the blood draining from her face. After everything, she’s going to kill him. And she’s going to use my knife to do it.

Balekin was less stunned. “You won’t kill him,” he chuckled. 

“No?” Pellia gritted her teeth, adjusting her grip on the hilt. “And why's that?”

“What would you gain? Killing him won't get you your sister back.” Disdain coloured the prince’s voice, but there was something else, something other—the slightest tinge of uncertainty hiding in the space between his words.

Pellia nodded, considering. “Maybe not. But what do you really know about me?” Her breathing was heavy and pained. Her eyes bore into Balekin's with a fury so hot it could have started a wildfire. “Killing him might not get me my sister back, but it sure as hell will cause you some issues,” she spat. 

The fey prince was quiet for a long moment, calculating. Jude’s heart dropped all the way to her stomach. Her eyes flicked back and forth, from Pellia to Balekin, from hot, wild rage to cool, quiet calculation. Then Balekin straightened, an ugly half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I do not think you have an accurate read on my relationship with my little brother,” he explained. The words were oily smooth and indifferent. Jude wanted to scratch them off her skin. “I would not cry if he were gone. I do not care for him the way you care for that mortal brat.”

The reference to Amber caused the pixie to flinch. "I didn’t say you cared," she snapped back. “I don’t think for a moment that you'd be sad over his loss—you’d have to have a heart for that.” She held Cardan higher and stepped closer to Balekin. “I just think it would cause you some problems. How can you be his benevolent saviour if he's dead? How can you manipulate someone who owes you nothing?”

Balekin opened his mouth to speak, but Pellia shook the cat, pressing the knife closer. Cardan squawked in alarm, and his brother fell silent.

“Isn't that your plan?” she ranted, voice rising. “Isn’t it?! Massacre your family, but keep him—” she nodded to the cat hanging uncomfortably by his scruff “—safe, so you can play the saviour? So he’ll be indebted when you find the antidote to the spell that made him this way? I’m not done,” she snapped as Balekin drew breath to speak.

Veins were pulsing in the dark fey prince’s forehead, his eyes a rage-filled inferno. His jaw was so tight Jude could almost hear his teeth creaking under the strain. Any moment now, he would erupt.

“You don’t care about Cardan,” Pellia continued, “only his royal lineage. You just need someone to put the crown on your head. Well, news flash, buddy,” she scoffed, “it won’t be him.”

Balekin lunged for Pellia with an inarticulate roar. She must have seen it coming as Jude had, though, and a quick sidestep carried her out of harm’s way. The fey prince’s momentum carried him forward to trip over Pellia’s extended ankle and he skidded across the floor to stop at Jude's feet. 

Jude, who jumped backward to avoid a collision. Jude, who looked up and felt the blood drain from her face. Jude, who couldn’t hide her look of complete and utter horror at the sight before her. Her heart felt as though it had stopped, and also as though it were trying to beat out of her chest. Her body was numb. She stared.

Balekin turned, too, his sword falling from his grip as he beheld the scene taking place. 

“You bitch—” he snarled.

Across the room, Pellia crouched to lay the still body of Cardan on the floor. Darkness coated his cat's chest, a red stain seeping into the carpet beneath him. Jude’s dagger in her hand ran red from hilt to tip. 

When she spoke, the pixie’s voice was quiet. Flat. 

“What's your plan now, Balekin?”

Jude could barely tear her gaze away to see the prince’s reaction. His face contorted with fury, a hate so black it nearly seeped the light from the room. Balekin screamed and charged for Pellia—then stopped. 

He looked down. The silver point of Jude’s sword protruded from his stomach. The anger fell from his face as she tried to figure out what it meant, what had happened. When Jude yanked her blade from his body with a slight squelch, he swayed, stumbled forward, then fell at Pellia's feet. 

Jude barely noticed. She was halfway to Cardan, scrambling, the floor feeling oddly immaterial beneath her feet, when Pellia’s voice rang out, laced thick with glamour:

“Stop,” she commanded, and Jude felt her feet freeze beneath her. 

Those stupid herbs. In trying to uphold her end of the deal, in trying to help Amber before all else, she had given up the one thing that had protected her against the glamour. She threw herself against the magic restraining her, but still her feet remained locked to the ground. 

Panic began to creep through Jude’s veins and hot tears burned her eyes. 

“Let me go!” she screamed, thrashing in Pellia’s magical hold. "Let me see him!" 

The pixie looked taken aback for a moment. “I’m sorry for the pain this has caused you, Jude,” she said. She sounded sincere. It meant nothing.

“Fuck you!” Jude’s voice broke over the words. Her heart felt like it was being ripped in half. “How could you?! He did nothing! You were supposed to help him—you're a liar!”

Pellia shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, then, glamour lacing her voice again, she ordered, "Please, be quiet." 

The air rushed from Jude's lungs. No matter how much she screamed and sobbed, no sound came out. With silent tears streaming down her face, she collapsed to her knees. 

Pellia turned back to Balekin. Panting from the pain of his wound, he had struggled his way onto all fours and drawn a knife. It was a simple matter to knock one hand from under him, sending the prince crashing face-first into the carpeted floor. Pellia lowered herself to a crouch beside him and laid the edge of her dagger under his jaw. 

“Ah, ah,” she tutted. “Let's not do that, shall we? You lost. Now tell me: what did you use to bind the cat spell?”

“What does it matter?” Balekin snarled. “You’ve already killed him.”

“Humour me.” Pellia’s voice was sweet and deadly, dripping honey over a razor sharp blade. “I’m ever so curious.”

When he still refused, she applied pressure to the weapon at his throat. A thin line of blood sprang up where the blade met flesh, and the prince flinched.

“The ring,” he spat, voice dripping with contempt. “The match to the one you put on him.”

Pellia smiled, cold and sharp, giving him some space to move. "Remove it for me." Balekin's fingers trembled as he did, though with rage or fear Jude couldn’t be certain. The stone set into the band was the same warm orange as the cat's eyes. Jude’s heart ached at the thought of never seeing those eyes again. As Balekin dropped the ring into Pellia's hand, the air in the room seemed to crackle. Through wet eyes, Jude looked to Cardan; shimmering white light glowed over the cat's changing body.

“Thank you,” Pellia said from her spot with Balekin. Neither she nor the prince seemed to have noticed Cardan’s transformation.

“Would that misfortune follow you, any path you take,” the injured prince spat—an ancient curse. 

Pellia raised her eyebrows at him, unphased. “Go stick your dick in a toaster, fucknugget.” She glanced over her shoulder to where the naked-but-very-much-fey body of Cardan now lay. 

“It’s over, Catboy. You’re good now.”

Jude didn’t understand what she meant at first. Her confusion was answered a moment later as Cardan sat up, graceful as ever and uninjured. Then it hit her full force as she realised—Cardan had just sat up, graceful as ever and uninjured. The shock of it was enough to stop the tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Jude,” Pellia said, “I release you, as long as you promise not to stab me.”

Still trying to wrap her mind around what was happening, the girl nodded, and the glamour broke. She hurled herself across the room at the newly-returned fey prince and dipped to her knees beside him, hands hovering, unsure whether to hug him or hold his hand or die of embarrassment over the sheer amount of relief she was feeling—or over the fact that he was sitting there, fully nude and still glowing with the effects of the spell, which she was just processing now. Jude felt her cheeks flame at the realisation. Cardan, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected. 

Instead, he gave her a crooked smile. “Hello, Jude,” he said. 

She could feel herself turning an even deeper shade of red. “Um—hi,” she stuttered, her tongue feeling awkward in her mouth. “I’m—I’m glad you’re back.” She studied a particularly interesting spot on the stone wall behind him, refusing to meet his eyes.

That didn’t last long. Cardan began to sway as the light around him faded. Instinctively, Jude reached out to steady him. He fell against her. 

“Jude,” he said again, insistent as his voice started to slur with sleep. “You need to know….”

Then he passed out.

~ ~ ~

Pellia watched as Jude hurtled across the room to Cardan's side. It had been difficult for her to intentionally allow the girl to believe she had killed Cardan. After all, Pellia knew firsthand what it was like to have someone important stolen from right under your nose—the feelings of helplessness and despair and anger that it provoked. She comforted herself with the knowledge that it had been a quick affair, just long enough to force Balekin to remove the ring that bound the spell. 

Pellia wiped sanguineberry juice from the assassin's dagger before sheathing it at her hip. Her body ached, protesting its recent treatment, and she knew it would only get worse as the adrenaline faded. She wished she had thought to save some of those blessed painkilling berries, instead of putting them all into the poison vial hidden in the dagger's hilt.

“Pell?” 

The pixie girl spun toward the voice. It came from the main doorway, where a slight figure stood, shrouded in shadow. Pellia swallowed. 

“Amber?”

“PELLIA!” Amber exclaimed. She rushed forward, tackling her older sister in a bone-crushing hug, tears streaming down her face.

“Can’t breathe—” Pellia winced at the pain in her ribs but held on just as tight. She pulled back for a moment to fervently check her sister’s face. Amber was pale, her cheeks sunken and eyes haunted, but it was her.

Pellia took a breath that morphed into a sob. She'd done it. Amber was here. She was real and solid and alive, and she was here. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Pellia whispered., burying her face in her sister's hair as they sank to the floor. 

Amber held on tighter. Her tears turned to sobs as the two girls clung to each other, neither wanting to let go. “I—I thought I was—" she hiccuped and started again. “I thought I was never gonna see you again.”

Pellia's heart cracked. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “You’re safe now. I’m so sorry.”

The younger girl shook her head, her face still buried in Pellia’s shoulder. “You were right,” she admitted. Her voice cracked, and she clutched at Pellia's clothes, holding on as tightly as she could. “It’s scary here.”

Pellia’s heart broke in her chest. “I know,” she whispered, stroking her sister's hair. “But it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take you home.”

***

A/N: That wasn't that bad, right? Happy ending? For everyone except dear Balekin? Also, I know this started mainly with Jude and Cardan. I'm sorry to anyone who is disappointed about the copious amounts of Pellia screentime. I haven't read FotA in like three years and I don't remember enough to write them in-character. So yeah, Pellia took over.

Theoretically, there is one more chapter to be written. Will I actually write it? Who knows. (Probably, but it'll take A Bit.) (I've learned my lesson about posting as I write... So much respect to people who are dedicated and organized enough to do that. You really gotta have the plot figured out first. Anyway. Lesson learned. If I ever write anything else, I will finish the story before posting.)

Thanks for reading, friend. Hope you enjoyed. <3

Tagging: @stardustsroses @nahthanks @jurdanhell @my-one-true-l @thefolkofthefic @greenbriarxrose @bookavert @queen-of-demons-and-hell @theviolettulip @lysandra-ghost-leopard @playlistmusings @black-like-my-soul @mirubyai @eldritchred @hpcdd3 @myunfortunatenightmare @angelpaulene ​ @localgoof @garnet-baby @iamaprincessallgirlsare

[fymo-blogs]

*wet cat*

Haiiii

Guess who????

Anyways

I fade away now and remember that your loved and cared for

Bye byeeee

*disappears with the cat full of soup meme*

Erm...

@erikaskblog

[catoperated]

I tend to stay the hell away from tiktok and rely on other social media sites to filter me out the good shit, but I’m aware of it being a cesspit of conspiracy theories. What I didn’t know until recently was that zoomers legit believe Helen Keller was a fraud and are memeing about it.

There’s a now feature length video debunking all that shit, with a lot of extra information of the systemic injustices and hurdles deaf and deaf-blind people face, but for anybody who happens to believe it and refuses to watch the whole thing, I clipped the key point (the whole video has captions and the clip will take you to the full version.):

I recommend checking out Soup Emporium’s other videos, too. Great channel for being so new. Every video is fantastic.

[lovesomehate]

I have eaten and now I’m that one cat meme “full of soup” 😂

[coocoocatnip]

What are Dabloons?

Introduction

What are dabloons?

Well, for starters, Dabloons are my new favourite addiction. But it’s also a made up economy that’s taking aver TikTok right now. It’s basically a role playing game where users collect the fictional currency (dabloon) in exchange for non-existent things like a mega mansion, soup, goliath shark with a pony head.

You can earn dabloons by coming across a video, giving you some dabloons. Most likely with a cat in the video greeting you with the phrase “Hello Traveller” who will then proceed to show you their inventory of items that you can buy for a set number of dabloons.

Anyone can make a Dabloon gifting or sale video, and you can also download dabloon bank. To keep track of your dabloons and items that you earn.

How it started?

According to the website “Know Your Meme”, the dabloon trend’s origins can be traced back to two images, shared by the Instagram account catz.jpeg, of cat’s paws, with the simple caption “four dabloons” beneath.

This brand of nonsensical humour seemed to strike a chord with the account’s hundred thousand followers, and was shared consistently over the following months.

By October 2022 the phrase, “But it will cost you 4 dabloons” became a popular punchline on TikTok and by late November this had become a full-on craze, with thousands of accounts posting dabloon content and videos using the hashtag “#dabloons” collectively gaining over 500m views, as of 1 December.

And thus the dabloon economy began.

How has it evolved?

Suddenly there were dabloon thieves draining people’s accounts dry or sending them spiralling into dabloon debt. Obviously, the dabloon police then needed to be invented in order to fight the robbers off. Next, the mafia and pirate leagues formed, so naturally, fighter jets and dragons were added to the economy to up players’ defences and ward off rival factions.

Most tracked their dabloon count in their phone’s notes app, but within a day or two, the economy became so complex that collectors such as 21-year-old Allexis Dorsey needed a spreadsheet to record her income.

“It ended up with me and my roommate, sitting there for like four hours … playing with our spreadsheets,” she said.

A TikTok her roommate posted of Dorsey explaining her in-depth accounting system went viral and the trend soon caught on – some users even attempting to code their own dabloon tracking apps from scratch.

What is the inflation problem?

But very quickly people began to notice an issue with this imaginary economy where anyone and everyone has the power to mint their own coins.

“It started as a fun little way to get soup, cakes, and maybe a blanket. It quickly spiralled into massive inflation,” Woodard laments.

“People were giving out infinite dabloons and such … I saw someone selling a bowl of soup for 10 dabloons! What happened to 4?”

So, in an attempt to reinstitute order users began developing rules, such as capping the maximum dabloons bequeathments to 100 per video. And soon the dabloon FBI and IRS were created.

Dabloons TikTok’s new imaginary economy is a really fu and interesting role playing game that anyone can join.

Here traveller take these 10 Dabloons to start your journey.

BUT BEWARE OF THE DABLOON THIEVES!

[oolathurman]

[ID: Full of soup cat meme. The word "soup" has been scribbled out, and the word "Medicine" is on top of it. Belphie's face has been cropped and overlaid on top of the original cat's face. End ID.]

every two weeks, I'll need to send off his weight so that Belphie's FIP medication can be adjusted.

right now though, I'll be watching his weight drop as all the fluid in his abdomen is absorbed and passed.