#milo squawks

[as-tro-nauts]

<3 freaky spider guy <3

Milo Mortar belongs to @escargoingtohell :D

[crazylittlejester]

A tiny fic for you, because life's been a bitch and you deserve a gift (happy to hear you're doing better though :] ) :

"What the fuck are y'all doing?" Twilight laughed, walking from his room into the living room.

"Floor time." War mumbled from his place face down on the floor, head almost completely obscured by the black fluff of the cat he'd buried his face in. Milo meowed.

Sky made a miserable noise of agreement. He was laid out starfish style on his back, half draped over his friend, with one hand thrown over his face. He had a white, fluffy blob that Twi recognised as War's other cat, Tara, curled up on his chest.

"Ah crap, do I want to know?" Twilight crouched down beside the pile of saddness and cats.

"NO." They both groaned in sync.

"Alright 'en." Twi shrugged. "Y'all need anythin'?"

"I need you to kill me." War sighed.

"Hell no, shut up. If I have to do this, so do you, mister dramatic pants." Sky snapped, though there wasn't much heat behind it.

"How about a hug instead?" Twilight suggested.

War removed his face from the fluffy void and stared at Twi with the most pathetic, wet creature eyes ever. He nodded quietly, kissing Milo once before he somehow pretzel'd himself into sitting upright without evicting Sky of his place sprawled over him. Does it make sense? Not really, but eh, it's War. He's magical. Though magic didn't stop Milo's fur from having foundation smudges on it. Or from his eyeliner smudging.

Twilight smiled as he sat himself down, shuffling to lean against the sofa before he opened his arms to welcome his roommates in. Without a second of doubt, War flopped himself over straight into Twi's arms. Though in the process, he accidentally squished Sky, who let out an indignant squawk and kicked War (gently) in the shin before wiggling out into a more comfortable embrace between his two roommates.

"War that was homophobic..." Sky grumbled.

"I'm literally gay???"

"Alright old ladies, calm down." Twilight soothed with.

War simply huffed and buried his cold nose in Twi's shoulder. Any pretend grumpiness evaporated from both him and Sky within seconds, and their tense shoulders slowly unwound as they relaxed further and further into the comforting furnace that is Twilight.

If anyone were to walk in, they'd just see a tangle of limbs and (metaphorical) soggy cats. The actual cats were there too; at some point they'd snuck in and were purring away, content as ever.

Minutes, hours- whatever, an amount of time passed where all three of the silly roommates sat on the floor snuggling, until a sleepy, incoherent murmur left Sky's lips. Twilight hummed in question.

"I'm gonna fall asleep..." Sky mumbled, his eyelids slipping shut, though he didn't bother moving.

"Then get some rest, dude. You deserve it." War gently smiled, running a hand through Sky's hair.

Any further disgruntled grumblings were lost to the power of sleepiness, and soon replaced by snores.

"...everythin' alright with him?" Twi asked hesitantly.

War hummed. "Just stressed, I think. Glad to see him relaxed now."

"Yeah," Twilight whispered in agreement, mindful of the aforementioned roommate sleeping tucked into his side.

Conversation tapered off into comfortable silence, until Twi started to complain that his ass hurt from sitting on the floor for so long. But he just scooped Sky up and the cuddle pile relocated to someone's bed, where they could snuggle more securely. Personally, War had no complaints. The stress of his life earlier had melted in the warm embrace of his friends and now he felt... safe. Secure. Content.

Sorry this isn't the best- but I hope you like it ! Remember to take care of yourself :]

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I LOVE IT OH MY GOD. SCREAMING AND CRYING AND RUNNING AROUND IN CIRCLES you gifted me my blorbos 🥺??? AUGH!!

this is so fucking cute, floor time could definitely fix these guys

"Mister dramatic pants" and Twi thinking War has sad wet creature eyes is so everything to me, I hope you know

AND THE "War that was so homophobic" "I'm literally gay" KILLED ME. War is definitely the more likley of the three of them to whine and stop his feet and go "this is so homophobic" over any minor inconvenience but Sky saying this TO WAR is so fucking funny and I love it so much

also them worrying over Sky is so sweet, I love this so much thank you for this im holding it tightly in my evil little hands

[romirola]

Aggro, Bob, and Cheese at the Vet

When @claracatlady shared the brilliant headcanon that William Solaire owns a pampered, spoiled ragdoll cat named Bob, I was inspired to imagine how Bob and Aggro would get along, resulting in this post, and then this post, and then even a few fics that feature cameo appearances by Bob. (This fic is complete, while this one is currently ongoing. Recently, though, @slushiepizza shared that they headcanon Guy and Honey adopted a cat named Cheese. Obviously, this development led me to wonder how this kitty trio might cross paths...

Despite their many differences in lifestyle, fur type, and preferred petting, Aggro and Bob are best friends. It's no surprise that during a playdate, Milo gives William the name and contact information of Aggro's feline-exclusive vet when William decides that he won't subject Bob to a waiting room full of barking dogs, squawking birds, and even the occasional ferret scurrying about the floor. By pure happenstance, Aggro ends up getting stung by a bee the same day as Bob has his first annual check-up.

The diagnoses? Aggro is going to be just fine, though he needs to stay the night due to the heavy bout of antibiotics he's on to prevent his eye from developing an infection. Bob is in tip-top shape, but due to the vet wanting to be thorough and get a baseline of Bob's health, he will have to stay the night to complete some bloodwork and wait for the results.

William and Milo are so sad to leave their sons at the vet, but their health comes first. So, after many goodbye kisses and pets, they leave with empty carriers, counting down the hours until they can pick up their cats again. They are supposed to return to pick them up around 4PM the following day.

Meanwhile, Bob and Aggro are settled into the back room. The staff takes very good care of all boarding patients, including a spacious cage, providing soft towels, a clean litter box, and nutritious food based on the cat's health.

But, still. It's the vet. And Aggro and Bob hate the vet. They hate being in this strange place, with strange people, who all smell and sound strange. It's awful, and neither cat has any problem making that displeasure known. They hiss and growl, swat and bite. If given the chance, they'll even make a break for it and try to escape into the examination rooms. When any staff member tries to do anything to Aggro or Bob, they have to wear big, thick gloves and sometimes, even try to get a mask over their eyes to "relax" them.

Neither Bob nor Aggro finds that mask relaxing. And, yes, they take it off.

Bob and Aggro happen to be placed in adjacent cages, facing a cage that is occupied by none other than Cheese, who is waiting patiently and quietly for her humans to come get her. She is a good girl. Guy and Honey always tell her so. She does not bite or claw, because that would be rude. The staff all speak nicely and softly to her, even if they are jamming some syringe full of icky-tasting liquid down her throat. When Cheese arrived at the vet, her paw really, really hurt when she walked on it. Now, her paw still hurt a little bit, but it was much better, so these different humans must have been doing something good.

Aggro, ever one to establish himself as alpha-cat no matter what kind of medication he was taking, yowls at this newcomer. He puffs himself up so that his gray fur stands on end, claws extended, as he side-hops around the edge of the cage. Bob is unamused, licking at the paw the vet tech had the gall to shave to draw blood from him.

Cheese stares at Aggro with odd fascination. She's not used to aggression in the slightest. "Me-rrow?" She pushes a ball towards Aggro, through the bars of his cage. Maybe if this gray cat batted around a ball, he'd feel better? Batting around a ball always made Cheese feel happy, especially when Guy chased it around with her

Aggro continues his tirade. Bob, however, suddenly grows attentive when he saw the ball hop out of Cheese's cage and onto the hard floor. Bob loves chasing balls around William's mansion. And suddenly, the fact that he was cooped up in a cage is quite an inconvenience. Ever one to handle inconveniences, Bob begins to scream his displeasure, begging for someone to procure that ball from him.

Cheese pulls her ears back at Bob's desperate cries. She flattens herself against the floor, long fur splaying out from her belly. All she had wanted to do was share her ball, and now these other cats were all upset.

Alarmed at his friends sudden change in demeanor, Aggro joins the calls, adding his own voice. The chorus of cries rang out loudly, echoing throughout the room and beyond.

Soon enough, Cheese, too, feels compelled to join in with the meowing. It looks fun, and she always wants to help. She let her own voice squeaky voice add a particularly desperate, pitiful tone to the song.

It doesn't take long for a human to come bursting into the room. "Oh my gosh, what is it?" they ask worriedly. "What's wrong? What?" They spot the ball on the floor. They quickly retrieve that ball and two others, giving one to each cat, before rushing off to an examine room. "Bye now! Be good!" they trill.

Silence falls over the room as Aggro, Bob, and Cheese enjoy the spoils of their vocal hunt...

...until the cats collectively realize the power that their voices held when together. Alone? They were powerless. But together?

They had this vet clinic at their beck and meow.

It's a long, long day for the staff. At 8:01AM, Milo, William, and Guy all receive the following phone call:

"Hi, yes, your cat is all set and ready to come home. Could you come pick up your cat early? As early as you can get here, preferably. Aggro/Bob/Cheese just really wants to come home. Please? Please come get your cat?"

Aggro, Bob, and Cheese hate the vet, but they are quite pleased to have made a new friend.

[amaraudermind]

“I’m not sure I understand the idea, here.”

Val regarded the man on the other side of her desk, appraising him. He had his arms crossed over his chest, hidden beneath red sleeves. One hand rested casually atop his opposite arm, clearly showcasing the taloned digits. His weight was resting slightly to the left, his head knocked back to look down through his goggles at Val in her rather beat up desk chair.

“You don’t understand?!” Kai nearly shouted from beside her, and Val fought the urge to grin. “It���s a very simple plan, Milo! Enact change and inspire solidarity between humans and nonhumans, it’s not complicated! What’s there to not get?”

Milo rolled his eyes as Kai’s feathers puffed outward.

“You keep up with Overworld news at all, Mr. Morris?” Val cut in, leaning back in her chair, allowing her weight to shift onto her metal arm. Kai pouted, but he took a step back as he allowed his feathers to settle. She appreciated his eagerness, but she also knew the man in front of her. He wasn't ready for the pitch.

“Can’t say I do,” Milo said with a frown. “Seeing as stepping foot out there is as good as stepping into an unmarked grave.”

Val understood his caution. The humans in the Overworld had long made their stance on people like them known.

“Oh, come on!” Kai squawked, but Val just let a lazy smile take over her face.

“That’s a shame.”

Milo shifted his weight to the other side.

“Okay, fine. I’ll bite,” he said. “Why should I care about what’s happening in a place that is literally more dangerous than a hell dimension?”

Val didn’t respond immediately. It was a delicate game that the two of them played. She couldn't read people as well as Milo could, but she'd long known the way to get in his head.

Get him curious.

She held her right hand up to inspect her glove, noting the tears across the palm. She really needed to get a replacement pair.

“The government up there’s been having a spot of trouble in the past couple years.” She said finally, dropping her hand onto her desk. She looked up to meet Milo’s eye.

“I feel so sorry for them,” Milo said, in a voice that clearly conveyed that he did not. Val let her smile grow, just a touch.

“Yeah, these vigilantes have taken it upon themselves to step in where they’ve been lacking,” Val continued, sympathy dripping from her tone. “Which would be bad enough, but it turns out these vigilantes aren’t human, which is really just making a fool of them all the way ‘round.”

Milo froze. He very deliberately didn’t look away, and Val knew she had him.

Val had known Milo for nearly a decade now, and they'd been through a lot together in that time. She was there when he got the scar currently hidden by the band on his goggles. He'd been part of the process of crafting her left leg. They knew each other's weakest moments.

And each other's most loathed desires.

“...What does that have to do with me?” He asked, just a touch of hesitance in the words.

“I think we both know that you’re quite adept at combat,” Val said, but Milo laughed.

“Don’t even start.” He unfolded his arms, leaning forward to plant his hands on the desk. “I think we’ve danced this dance long enough.”

That was the thing about knowing each other so well--it was so easy to pick apart the game until you couldn't see the board anymore. Val knew she had a tendency to take things a step beyond necessary.

Milo wasn't likely to hold it against her.

“Fine.” Val kicked her legs up onto the desk, and Milo took a step back to avoid getting kicked in the face. She dropped the smile, let the interface in front of her eye light up just a touch too bright to look at. “You’re uneasy about the organization I’ve built with Clocks and Wings. You’re intrigued by the idea of nonhumans being so brazen with their existence up in the Overworld, just like we are."

Intrigued was putting it lightly. Val was giddy at the prospect. And she knew Milo was desperately stamping down the hope that had filled him the second he registered that Val said there were nonhumans being open about existing in the Overworld.

You know someone long enough, you learn what they hate that they want.

And Milo had always wanted to see the sun.

"You can’t fight for shit, and you’re awful at coming up with plans," Val continued. "But you work well with my boys. I want people in the Overworld on my side, you and Riley are the friendliest faces I can think of to send out there.”

“You want me because I’m a good little sucker who follows orders.”

“And because you have a pretty face.”

Milo scowled.

This was the moment she could close the deal, or close the door. His want for that world they weren't supposed to be curious about clashing up against a fear ingrained in them both, not from experience, but from a knowledge of the last four centuries.

The Overworld was dangerous. Humans were far too invested in getting rid of nonhumans entirely. They couldn't even stop trying to kill each other, much less beings they saw as a threat.

It was the reason they lived in--as Milo so eloquently put it--a hell dimension in the first place.

“Come on, Milo, it’s a good thing!” Kai jumped back into the conversation. “This is the dream team, right?”

“The dream team,” Milo repeated flatly. “Venturing out into the Overworld, serving ourselves up on a platter for the humans to slit our throats.”

“Don’t be stupid. Didn’t you hear Val? These vigilantes have been giving them the run around for years. And they’re certainly not from the Hub, so they’ve been staying hidden all this time without the luxury of dropping to another dimension!”

“Which automatically makes us just as qualified for the job, of course.”

Val let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The ghost of a smile twisted the corner of her mouth.

“Yes! We have plenty of skill between us, those chumps won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Val let them bicker back and forth. She wasn’t fussed about the details.

Just the fact that he’d let himself get dragged into the argument was answer enough from Milo.

They'd known each other a long time.

Whatever Milo may have to say to the contrary, he was planning on following them to the end of the line.

[slaughterlauter]

[ video id - richie is alive, slightly worse for wear but doing okay. he's sitting on the ground, phone propped up against something as he plays with his cat. he waves to the camera, looking like he's about to say something before the cat escapes his grasp and bolts at the camera, knocking it over. richie squawks and the video ends. ]

[ it's accompanied with a text that says ; "milo cracked my phone screen😔 ]

@notshitlips

[stephs eyes widen as she sees the video and the message and she sits up from where she was lying in bed. she texts him as fast as her fingers could move.]

RICHIE

omg

ARE YUO OK??????

*you

cute cat

BUT PLS ARE YOU OK

[ask-the-star-hashira]

*The Hashira grins and nods back to Milo before a squawk alerted her. She looks up with a more serious expression, seeing her kasugai crow circling above her. "Kokumi Watanabe is needed at…" It had informed her of a demon that was terrorizing a village in the west and that she was leave as soon as possible. And as soon as possible meant now.

Kokumi couldn't help but feel irritated with how inconvenient the timing of this mission was, but she knew how important missions were. She nods to the crow as it lands on the hilt of her sword and turns her attention back to Milo.*

"Well, it seems I'm needed." *She puts out a kind smile.* "I hope we're able to talk again soon Milo!" *Kokumi's crow flies west with her following it close behind…

After three months the two Hashira managed to cross paths at the house of the wisteria family crest. Both had been sent by their crows. Upon seeing Milo, Kokumi greeted the girl with a smile.*

"Ah, Milo! Long time, no see!"

(using hashira au milo for this)

The newest hashira, the starlight hashira: Milo Suzuki, made you curious. She never talked to anyone accept for Muichiro. Her sapphire eyes are as empty as empty can get. She always has eye bags due to lack of enough sleep and always training. She never smiles either. Considering she and Muichiro are both 12 years old and hashiras, it makes sense that they are so close. You find a chance to talk to Milo when she and Muichiro say goodbye to one another. Do you take the chance?

She sure does!

*Kokumi takes her chance to speak with the newest Hashira. From what she had heard from Tengen, the girl was only twelve, yet managed to climb the ranks rather quickly. From what she had observed with her own eyes, the girl and Muichiro were close. She figured it made sense considering the two became Hashira relatively close to the same time aswell as being the same age.

Kokumi walks up to Milo with the same smile she'd show anyone else.* "Hey, Milo, is it?" *She questions, tilting her head a little to the left* "Congrats on becoming a Hashira!"

*The woman holds her right hand out to Milo with her other on her hip. As Kokumi observes Milo's uniform she notices her haori and remembers what else Tengen had said.*

—————

"You know that new Hashira, right? Well, apparently her breathing style is pretty similar to yours!" *He had said and added something about the girl out-shining Kokumi to which she had rolled her eyes and chuckled.*

—————

[itslookingback]

bc valentines is coming up, shout out to the aros that are still grieving their identity. every valentine's decoration can seem like a punch to the gut when you've realised that you can't love in the way society wants you to, and you might even try to squeeze yourself back into the box that you know doesn't fit. finding out you're aro can be pretty isolating with romantic love literally everywhere, just so you know, i love you, you've got this<3

[hott-brownn-sugarr]

Bro Asher def dropped and broke his fucking tailbone in front of everyone at graduation because Milo bet him something fucking stupid like a fruit snack or a literal penny

When David walked the stage they all started squawking in key omg and Gabe def got some of the parents to wear those corny ass shirts with his face on it BAHAHAHAAH

I bet Darlin was standing in the corner recording the whole thing and then Milo was trying his best not to beg them for the video

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I really liked reading your fics of Lotor watching movies! Do you think Lotor would like watching Atlantis or lilo and stitch? And who would he watch them with? (Hopefully either Allura or Pidge)

Movie Time with TSL Lotor – Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)

It was a cold and rainy morning on the planet of Olkarion, with an emaciated Galran prince swaddled in blankets on the floor of the paladin’s lounge room. Lotor still wore his night robe and Earth-fashion pajamas, his white hair disheveled from sleep. He yawned. His face pulled tight with his harvesting scars, and his long fangs gleamed in the lamplight. He tiredly scratched at his cheek. “Why did you wake me so early, little one?”

Across the room, a pajama-clad Pidge sat cross-legged, plugging in a few cables. “Because. It’s Saturday.”

The bleary-eyed man blinked. “I know not what a Saturday is.”

She looked up, readjusting her glasses. “It’s the day where people get up to eat cereal and binge-watch cartoons. Like a tradition. My brother and I used to do this all the time. And sometimes my dad too, but he slept in a lot.” Her face twisted in a pout. “And everyone here sleeps in for, like, ever.”

“Even the princess?”

“Even the princess.”

Lotor’s gaze slid to the container of milk, courtesy of Kaltenecker, and then to the sacred box of—he narrowed his gaze curiously—frosted cheerios. Pidge had procured two bowls and two little spoons. He raised his nose and sniffed delicately. The box smelled of sweetness and grains, and saliva swarmed through his mouth in anticipation of food. Beneath the blankets, he scratched at his stomach. Wakefulness began to seep through him at the thought of eating and watching more animated drawings from Earth. “You wish to share in this…tradition with me, then?”

“You were sleeping out here on the couch,” Pidge deadpanned, giving him a look, “so you were gonna share in it no matter what.” A small emotion came over her. She glanced down, returning to connecting the cables. “And my brother’s still off-planet, so you’ll have to do.”

He huffed in amusement. “I am a companion of convenience, then. A replacement brother.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She began to scoot away from the cables, grabbing for her cereal bowl.

Lotor quirked a brow. His blanket shifted around him as he picked up the remaining bowl, mimicking her actions. “What is the topic of today’s entertainment adventure?” He watched curiously as she dumped cereal into her bowl and filled it with milk. And then he followed in kind, hesitantly dipping his spoon into the concoction and biting down.

His slit pupils dilated at the sweet taste.

His fangs crunched down loudly.

Pidge munched more quietly, but her lips stretched as she moved to turn on the movie. “It’s called Atlantis: The Lost Empire.”

Lotor’s elfin ears flicked in interest. “Lost empire?” he repeated curiously, voice muffled by cereal.

As the movie began to play, Pidge’s face brightened. “The whole movie involves an old human legend, about this advanced civilization that sunk under the sea in a sudden cataclysm.”

“Fascinating.” His explorer’s heart lifted in excitement, the sleeping disappearing fully from his eyes. In that moment, it did not matter to him that he was 10,000 years old or watching something that was most assuredly meant for children and families. “Does the legend have any form of validity?”

“Well, being mentioned by Plato, who was a real philosopher—” she pointed to the screen to the opening quote—“has made people search all over for it. But so far, nothing’s proven because there’s a lot of sunken cities on Earth.” She paused. “The movie definitely takes some creative license with ancient human tech, too. Like, ancient humans did not fly in fish ships.”

“I see.” Lotor crunched down happily on the cereal, eyes wide. The screen brightened with the cartoon colors of human animation. Strange, fish-like planes streaked through a blue sky in a panic. Lotor instinctively leaned along with the framing of the movie, as if he were on the ships as well. “Calamity is rather fun to indulge in when it’s not real.”

“I know, right?” Pidge grabbed onto her blanket, wrapping it around her.

And the two remained sitting on the floor of the great lounge, increasingly lost in the tale of Atlantis.

***

It was at some point after Milo Thatch’s introduction that Lotor hesitantly spoke up, his voice catching oddly. “This animation.” He tried again. “I thought you said once that humans were unaware of the planet Altea.”

Pidge pushed up her glasses, still cradling her cereal bowl in her lap. “Yep. Didn’t know about it at all.”

Lotor puzzled at the screen. He hummed, setting his cereal bowl down on his lap. “This Atlantis bears significant similarities to Altean technology and to its people, down to being significantly advanced even ten-thousand years ago.”

The human girl blinked. And then her face twisted in a mischief. “Oh, yeah. It might have more similarities than you think.” She began to waggle her bows. “Including to a certain Altean princess.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Also, you kinda remind me of Milo,” she declared. “Just saying.”

His eyes slit further in consternation, for at that moment, the somewhat bumbling but intelligent character of Milo Thatch was sitting in a water puddle after his museum colleagues rejected his proposal. For good measure, Lotor crunched down on another bite of cereal. “I may enjoy ancient history,” he declared, voice muffled, “but I am not as scrawny as he.”

Pidge poked him hard in his ribs, which still jutted out beneath his sleeping robe. “You’re right. You’re scrawnier.”

Lotor flinched away, shooting her a playfully dark glare. “A temporary consequence of being harvested by the witch. I will reclaim my health, and then you will regret making fun of me so.”

Her face split in a wicked smile. “Nah. You’re definitely Milo. Muscle can’t hide that you’re a nerd.”

He sputtered, waving his cereal spoon. “And what of you? With your books and codes. And cat memes.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd,” she declared. “I just own it proudly.”

The fallen prince ate of his cereal in a light disgruntlement. He watched Milo as the character awkwardly stumbled through meeting a busty blond human woman and then a spastic old man in a bathrobe—his objective always set on discovering the secrets of Atlantis and its sources of power.

Milo Thatch owned a cat too.

Lotor’s face began to heat in realization that he did have a lot in common with this strange human man.

***

By the time the character Milo Thatch met the Princess Kida of Atlantis, a real princess had sleepily trailed into the movie room. Allura’s long, pink robes slipped against the tiles of the halls, her curls a tumble down her shoulders. She yawned and proceeded to stumble her way over to Lotor and Pidge.

With little preamble, she flopped over them.

Pidge barely managed to raise her bowl of frosted cheerios in time, squawking. Lotor froze entirely as Allura’s white curls spilled across his lap—her warm cheek leaning against his leg.

“It’s too early for movies,” the princess whined lightly. She snuggled against him and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, laying across two bodies. “I could hear the sound all the way from my room.” Lotor’s attention split from the animated Princess Kida to the living, breathing princess in his lap. His elfin ears flicked back, and his sharp cheeks heated.

Pidge grumped and tried to shove her off.

The princess did not budge, save for a grump right back.

Lotor had long finished off his bowl of frosted cheerios—leaving not even a drop of milk in his wake. But he carefully pushed the bowl further away, in fear that her hair would end up in it. “We are watching Atlantis: The Lost Empire,” he murmured to her, voice straining. “Would you not like to watch it with us?”

Allura made a noncommittal noise, appearing to fall back asleep, the lines in her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled deeply. The action suggested she had grown to trust him a great deal, for the back of her neck lay bare where her hair had parted.

Lotor swallowed hard.

He turned to look at Pidge, who had sighed and given up trying to push Allura off—instead, she’d moved to accept Allura’s robe as something of a blanket and had rested her arms over the back of the princess’s legs.

Lotor hesitated, knowing that the paladins often piled upon each other as a means of displaying familial affection.

As Milo Thatch moved to swim alongside Princess Kida in search of the Heart of Atlantis, Lotor moved to brush his fingers against the waves of Allura’s curls.

It was a soft, hesitant action—testing the waters of her trust. She made a soft noise in response, her lips sleepily stretching. Her elfin ear flicked lightly as the calloused pads of his fingers ran over it. The action itself meant things to Alteans and Galrans, for only family and lovers touched one’s ears.

The princess nuzzled against him.

His heart skipped. Careful of his claws, he continued to toy with her hair as he turned his attention back to the movie, in which Milo’s very interest in Atlantis had now endangered the Royal Atlantean family.

Lotor bit his lip, feeling a great protectiveness for Allura wash over him.

***

The movie indicated that Atlanteans received their power from a great, sentient crystal—the animation of which was not unlike pure quintessence.

“Do you think,” Lotor asked quietly to Pidge, “that it is possible your Atlantis was real, and that some piece of a quintessence-rich substance—a comet, perhaps—landed upon your Earth?”

Pidge looked over at him, readjusting her glasses in interest. “I suppose it would be possible, but you’re suggesting then that Atlantis is real. And that the power in this movie is real.”

“How do you know it isn’t?”

“What would you do with it?” she challenged right back, raising a brow. “You got plans for that power or something?”

The fallen prince made a face. He was still absentmindedly running his claws through Princess Allura’s hair. “No. I simply fear that concentrated sources of quintessence may have this effect in our world—that it bonds to a host and…overtakes them, somehow.” His white brows knitted together. “As it did my own mother, who has been lost to quintessence, and a demon has taken her place.”

Pidge’s gaze fell to Lotor’s hand, which ran along the tip of Princess Allura’s ear. The princess herself was fully asleep against him, her mouth open with a trail of drool slipping against Lotor’s pajama-clad leg.

The girl’s face curled with a sneaky smile. “You’re worried about Allura? Afraid you’re gonna lose her over something, because you loveher?”

Lotor’s eyes snapped to Pidge, his face heating. “I know she has successfully navigated Oriande, but…” He fell silent with emotion for a time before he could add, “My mother came across something of great power, and it changed her.”

The strain in his voice made Pidge’s mischievous smile falter. She hesitated.

The movie played between them as the animated humans fought to steal Kida, who was bonded to the crystal.

Pidge eventually said, voice softer, “Allura’s really powerful. We’re not gonna lose her over anything.”

Lotor’s throat tightened. He continued to stroke Allura’s hair as she slept against him. “You do not know what I have seen quintessence do to people. Even now, if certain groups knew what all Princess Allura could do, they would seek to control her, just as the evil humans in this cartoon wish to do with the crystal-bonded Kida.”

An emotion came over Pidge. “Well—I mean, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

Within the movie, Milo Thatch had accrued a small band willing to risk their lives to retrieve the princess.

Lotor watched, his heart rising in a pound. “Do tell me that they save her,” he demanded. “I will not watch the rest of this if the Princess Kida dies.”

The human girl gave him a look. “It’s a children’s cartoon. They’re not gonna kill off the princess.”

His breath caught oddly, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. He pulled his hand away from Allura’s hair. “Right, yes. Of course, they wouldn’t.” He breathed out slowly. “That is well.”

“You take these shows too seriously,” Pidge warned. “Half the fun is knowing that it turns out okay, but not knowing how. You just gotta watch.”

“And Princess Kida?” Lotor demanded. “She is not permanently bonded to the crystal by the end, is she?”

Pidge groaned. “Oh my god. Just watch the movie.”

The princess suddenly whined at the loss of Lotor’s touch, her blue eyes cracking open. “No,” she pleaded blearily. She disjointedly reached up, searching for Lotor’s hand. “Keep petting me; it was quite nice.”

He looked down at her, face tightening in a mix of amusement and protectiveness. “Apologies, princess,” he said, moving to run the back of his knuckles against her warm temple. “I will do as you wish.”

She made a happy noise, settling back into sleep.

***

Lotor did not relax until after Milo Thatch had released Princess Kida from her prison, and until after Princess Kida had saved Atlantis and reappeared from out of the crystal’s aura—to land in Milo’s arms.

“You see?” Pidge called, waving her hand at the screen. “What did I tell you?”

Lotor swallowed down emotion. His fingers stilled against Allura’s stiff curls and the warm of her cheek. Despite the fact that he knew the story to be a children’s fairy tale, an odd burn appeared in his eyes. He exhaled shakily. “You were right,” he relented. “The princess lived.”

“Exactly,” Pidge said. For all her youth, she narrowed her eyes with a critical level of awareness. “They saved the princess. Because she had people to fight for her too.”

He raised his vulnerable eyes to her.

An unspoken truth wavered between them—which was that he and the paladins would fight to protect Princess Allura in much the same way, if it ever came to it.

Then, Pidge broke the mood, her expression shifting with a demonic mischief. She waggled her brows. “You love Princess Allura.” She began to shove at Allura’s legs. “Wake up. Lotor wants to declare his undying love for you and tell you that he’ll save you from crystals and evil people and—”

“—Stop it,” he hissed, his cheeks heating. He grabbed for one of the extra pillows that hung off the edge of the couch—and he flung it directly at Pidge. “You gremlin.”

It struck her soundly, but it did not hide her cackle, nor did it stop Princess Allura waking up from all the unsettled movement and raised voices. Her eyes opened a slit. She made a noise of confusion. “What is—going…on?”

She sleepily raised up from Lotor’s lap, her white curls tumbling down her shoulders.

Pidge opened her mouth to respond with a tease, but Lotor smoothly cut in. “Pidge was just putting in another movie,” he said, voice straining. “Weren’t you, Pidge?”

Allura turned to him, still rapidly blinking her eyes. In that moment, she appeared so entirely vulnerable that Lotor struggled against an instinct to gather her into his arms. “Oh, another one?” She yawned. “But I think—I missed all of this one.”

The human girl crawled away, reaching for her watch with her movie collection on it. “Don’t worry,” she called merrily. “I’m sure Lotor wouldn’t mind reenacting it with you one day.”

“I should hope not,” he retorted, his lavender cheeks still in a flame of emotion. “I’d prefer the princess not be in danger at all. And I am not a Milo Thatch.”

“You are definitely a Milo Thatch,” Pidge deadpanned. “Allura, tell him he’s a Milo Thatch. You know he is.”

The sleepy princess only half-understand the plea. She rubbed at her eyes before leaning back against Lotor, resting her heavy cheek against his shoulder, curling up against him. “He’s—my Milo,” she murmured groggily. “Thatch.”

Lotor pressed his lips together, and he damned the skip of his heart.

Allura’s Milo.

He managed a glare at Pidge, but it lacked fire.

The human girl simply smiled back with that demonic mischief before turning away to look for another movie.

[itslookingback]

fave mechs tweets

[itslookingback]

heres the link!!

Neurodivergent people either love wearing socks or can't stand wearing socks.

There is no in-between.

[number-one-micoverse-fan]

Day 6. Hypothermia

Otherwise known as “Cold 3.0″! This was mostly Em’s idea!

Nothing really in the way of warnings this time, mostly just really kids being cold.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Uh, guys? We’re…not supposed to go in there…” Cody said meekly, hunching into his coat and biting his lip.

Milo and Tegan, who had been in the act of scaling the fence, paused to stare at him.

“And that’s stopped uuuuussss…when?” Milo asked, breath misting in the cool evening air, “Come on, Cody! We’re just gonna take a little look around and then get outta here.”

“It’ll be fiiiiinneee,” Tegan said dismissively, hauling herself the rest of the way up the fence and dropping over onto the other side in a puff of snow. She brushed off the front of her coat with a wide smile, “This place has been empty for literal years and I used to sneak in here all the time! Come on, don’t be such a spoil sport!”

Milo snorted and climbed over the fence too, not landing quite as gracefully as Tegan and sitting down hard in the snow. He leapt up again with a squawk, shaking the snow out of his coat while Tegan laughed at him. Cody sighed, a long stream of mist fading into sky, and trudged over to climb the fence as well.

“Let’s just be fast, please. It’s already past four, it’s gonna be dark soon…”

It was cold in the old quarry, but as they trekked down the ramp into the pit proper it brought them out of the worst of the wind. It looked like an alien planet, great mounds of dirt draped in snowy blankets, fissures in the earth and shallow pits left by hungry machines. Plant life had started to force its way through the rocky ground, stubborn weeds and thick grasses clustering in shriveled sentries around the massive pit. The snow was deep in the pit, deeper than expected. It went almost to their knees in some areas, heavy and wet and difficult to wade through or fluffy powder that billowed into the air when they disturbed it, obscuring their vision

Milo had dropped back to walk with Cody as the shadows began to get longer and deeper. Tegan was ahead of them and slightly to the right, pausing every so often to kick aside the snow and look at the ground underneath. Milo looked up at the edge of the quarry pit far overhead, wandering away, and Cody trailed distractedly after him, looking around at the odd shapes left behind. There was scaffolding, rusted and rotted, half collapsed against an outcrop of stone, its surface shiny with ice. It looked eerie in the half-light.

Cody was moving closer to the broken structure when the ground suddenly dropped out from under him. He barely had time to make a sound before the air was crushed out of his lungs by the icy cold that enveloped him. It shocked him so badly that it took a minute for him to realize what had happened, to understand why the world had suddenly gone cold and dark and airless.

He’d fallen into water.

Panic seized him and he kicked and flailed, pawing at the water around him, trying to find the surface. He didn’t know which way was up or down and he desperately hoped he was going the right way. His chest ached for air and his heavy winter coat dragged him down. Cody broke the surface with a choked gasp, coughing and spitting and flailing. His cheeks and eyes stung in the cold, a bone deep ache settling into him in seconds. The metal of his glasses burned where they touched his face and he wanted to cry.

“This way!” Tegan was on her knees in the snow, holding out her gloved hands, and Cody floundered towards her. He grasped at her hand, his numb fingers clumsy and stiff, but she held tightly to his coat sleeve and hauled him onto stable ground. As Cody lay sprawled in the snow, gasping and shivering, he saw her turn back and pull Milo out as well.

“We gotta get you two out of the cold right now.” Tegan said seriously, “Come on! Get up! You gotta move! Move, move, move!”

“B-b-bossy…” Milo stuttered, hugging himself. His hair was plastered to his head in clumps that were already started to stiffen with frost. The freckles on his face stood out starkly against pale skin, his coat dripping, his fingertips red.

Tegan didn’t bother with an argument. She pulled Cody to his feet and caught him when he stumbled on numb legs. She pulled both of them close to her body heat and frowned, looking around the darkening quarry. After a second of the two of them shivering beside her, she dragged them away from the edge of the water and back towards the ramp that would lead them out. Cody kept tripping over his feet, uncoordinated and dizzy. His eyelashes stuck together when he blinked and it was getting harder and harder to focus. Milo was no better, his head drooping and his breath wheezing in his throat.

And it was so, so cold.

Tegan pulled them to a stop beside a massive boulder, the ground around one side of it relatively free of snow. She pointed aggressively to the spot, “Clear as much snow from here as you can. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Uuuhhhggg do we h-h-h-have tooooo…” Milo whined, slouched over and shaking hard, his hands tucked under his crossed arms.

“Now.” Tegan said in a voice that left no room for argument, glaring at Milo was a serious ferocity neither of them had ever seen from her before.

While they did their best to kick and scrape the snow away as well as they could, Tegan hurried off in the quickening darkness. They could hear he making a lot of noise, banging and crashing and things breaking. Then she was back with an armful of old wooden planks, her cheeks flushed red with exertion.

“It’s not much but it’ll have to work…” She said more to herself than the other two. She shooed them out of the way and laid the boards out over the exposed ground, “Sit.” She commanded the other two and, once they had, “Stay there real quick, lean against each other, and don’t fall asleep!” And she ran off into the dark again.

Cody and Milo glanced at each other but shuffled closer together, shoulder pressed against one another, shivering in the cold. The freezing ache felt like it had seized Cody’s lungs, making every breath an ache that stabbed into the back of his throat. Beside him, Milo was sniffling, tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, shaking so hard Cody could hear his teeth rattling.

“W-w-why were y-y-you in the w-water?” Cody asked, voice stuttering as his body was wracked with shivers.

Milo glanced at him, “I h-heard a splash and w-wh-when I turned a-around you w-w-were g-gone. S-s-so I ran over to t-try to look for y-you a-a-and f-fell in. Ih-it was kh-kinda shallow s-so I didn’t s-s-sink b-but it was s-s-s-so c-cold…”

“M-musta been a h-hole that got dh-dug out and gh-ground water f-f-filled it or s-s-somethin’…” Cody muttered. Words were difficult, his mouth was numb and his lips felt chapped and swollen, his tongue thick and clumsy. Exhaustion was starting to weigh heavy on him and it was hard to keep his eyes open.

The sound of footsteps and Tegan suddenly appeared from the dark, almost stumbling right into them. She was murmuring under her breath, brow furrowed, as she skittered around them. Cody watched her work, if only to keep himself occupied, but Milo had his face in his knees, eyes heavy and lidded.

Tegan worked quickly, using a combination of things she salvaged from around the quarry and the heavy snow around them to build a haphazard shelter. She packed the snow around them, reinforced it with broken or rotting boards, and then packed in more snow. Then she laid more boards over top of them to create a crude roof, draped a tarp that was mostly holes over it, and packed more snow on top of the tarp to keep it in place. Once she was satisfied by that, she cleared more snow from in front of their makeshift shelter, building it up into a sort of wall, reinforced again with more boards and planks. Then she took the remaining boards and a bunch of the dried and dead plant life and carefully constructed it into a small pile. When she dug a pocket knife from somewhere in her bundle of clothes, Cody let out a soft noise of surprise.

“What?” Tegan only spared him a glance before she started striking the back of her knife against a rock, creating sparks, “It’s a basic survival tool! You mean you don’t carry one of these puppies around with you?” She sounded like she was trying to keep her usual good humor as she nursed the sputtering fire into a more steady blaze. The warmth from it was like a balm to the aching cold that was eating away at Cody’s bones.

Tegan crawled into the tiny shelter and nudged and pushed Cody and Milo apart until she could sit between them, her arms around both of them. She peeled off her heavy winter coat and draped it over all three of them as best she could. Her warmth, combined with the warmth of the fire, helped ease Cody’s shivering, at least a little bit. Milo kept blinking rapidly, his head drooping and then jerking awake again as he tried to stay conscious.

“I called for help,” Tegan said, unusually soft. She leaned forward and tossed some more grasses and slivers of wood on the fire, “They should find us pretty quick. We need to get you guys warmed up ASAP.”

Milo mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “dad’s gonna kill me” and Tegan let out a humorless chuckle. She cupped her gloved hand around the side of his head and gently pushed him so he was leaning against her shoulder. His frozen hair must have been fiercely cold against her cheek but she said nothing in protest.

True to her word, there was soon the sound of distant sirens and flashing lights, then the sweeping beams of flashlights, figures moving in the dark, and shouting. The fire was a beacon and the rescue team found them quickly. They moved with the same practiced efficiency that Tegan had, bundling all three of them in thick, warm blankets and carrying them out of the quarry to waiting ambulances. Tegan was talking rapidly, filling the team in on who they were and what had happened, telling them to call Milo and Cody’s dads.

Cody tried to see where she and Milo were taken but he was so cold and everything hurt and the blanket’s warmth was seeping into his aching body. He let the exhaustion take him and closed his eyes before they’d even made it into the back of an ambulance.

--------------

Their parents were less than pleased, to say the least.

Dom braved the hospital to see his son and then promptly cried on Cody for a good ten minutes. Then he tried to berate him for such reckless behavior.

Miranda ended up giving Cody a very stern but concerned lecture while Dom cried all over again. Then he was grounded for a month.

Apparently there had been a lot of almost yelling in Milo’s room. Jake had wanted to ground Milo for a whole year. Dan managed to talk him down to two months. Milo had sulked about it until Dan had given him such a distraught look that Milo had simply reached out for hugs from both of them.

Tegan was only grounded for a week.

But all three of them agreed that going into the old quarry in the middle of winter was one of their stupidest ideas ever.

[rexs-writing]

blurb from my novel: a vampire wife and her ghost husband

Martha’s brown eyes went wide as she looked over the almost glowing face of Milo. He didn’t look like he did when she last saw him. Instead of wrinkled, with thinning grey hair, and dull eyes. He looked the way he did when they met. His hair thick and light brown, freckles over his face, skin tanned, and eyes clear and hazel. Martha gasped as she watched him reach out to touch her, she tensed. And then relaxed as he brushed her dark hair from her face and rubbed a thumb over her cheek. Somehow, his hand still felt warm against her fair skin.

Martha realized how dumb she must have looked, just gawking at the ghost of her husband. Quickly she cleared her throat and adjusted her round glasses. Trying to think of something intelligent to say. But instead all that she managed to squawk out was “Milo! Wh-What are you- H-How did you? What?” she asked, shaking her head and closing her eyes.

Milo chuckled and turned her head by her chin to get her to look at him “Don’t you remember?” he asked, tilting his head, “Death cannot stop true love, only delay it for a little while.” he replied.

[raywriteshere]

Crossing the River (KotM #1)

I have been working on a story line for my Kingdom of the Mountain characters, attempting to weave a plot against their wishes (or so it often feels). At the very least, it'll let me introduce the characters and play with them a bit. Never a bad use of time in my opinion. They're coming out a bit like interconnected scenes or drabbles. Here's the first installment.

It is also available on my patreon, where the second installment just went live for patrons.

-.-.-

His breath echoed through the trees, as loud as his steps on the ground as he ran. There was blood in his mouth. His vision was blurry.

They just had to make it past the river.

Chana was heavy on his back. Her dead weight slipping to one side or another every time he stepped wrong. He'd tied her hands together with a ribbon to loop them over his neck. The bruise on his neck would be well worth it if Kano could keep her safe.

"Almost there," he swallowed down his next breath as the sound of rushing water met his ears.

A thunk sounded and out of the corner of his eye Kano saw the arrow embed itself in the tree to his right. He held tighter to Chana, pushing himself to run faster. His lungs ached. The air felt like fire licking at his insides.

Another arrow sliced through the air beside his head. Kano felt the blood on his cheek as he twisted to the side, feet tangling together before he caught himself on a tree. He took cover behind it as a barrage of arrows crashed into the ground.

The dense foliage was no longer troubling their aim. Soon the arrows would be replaced by swords. Or worse.

They weren't going to make it to the river.

"Come out thief!" the captain of the band of soldiers called out as they approached.

Kano pursed his lips and then shifted around to lean Chana back against a tree trunk. Her soul hadn't returned yet. He pulled on the ribbon and the knot holding her hands came free.

She couldn't protect herself, not like that. Kano gulped. He wasn't exactly protection. But... he could be distracting.

Reaching a hand towards his neck, Kano grabbed hold of the charm hanging there. His mother's sigil, cast in iron the night he was born. Eyes squeezed shut, he whispered a prayer to the mountain.

Don't let this come to bloodshed.

He stepped out from behind the tree, snaking his way through the forest till he stood before the captain. The man's chin rose high and his eyes fluttered as Kano appeared before him.

"Hiding in the trees? I thought you were braver than that, coward."

Looking pointedly at the man's shield, the king's name pressed into the metal pinned to his chest, "Hiding behind the law, I thought you were better than that, captain."

Captain Milo was no stranger to Kano. He'd been the one to recruit Kano to the king's legion as a healer. He was no stranger to Kano's village either.

"I won't let you take the witch beyond the river," Milo raised his sword. The blade was aimed at Kano's heart. "Hand her over and I'll let you cross."

Kano chuckled. His face was bloodied and bruised. One eye swollen nearly shut. His hair was a tangled mess of black strands matted with blood.

"You're in no position to negotiate, Kano," Milo stepped forward with a snarl. His blade moved to rest against his chest.

"Then why are you negotiating at all?" Kano ignored the sword, focused his shaking gaze on Milo.

They both knew Kano was no match for him, even on his best day, which this certainly wasn't. Milo pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, "Don’t throw your life away for her, she isn't worth it."

"I'm not," Kano stood firm, "But she is."

A bird squawked above them. Milo looked up. His head hit the ground.

Kano stumbled back as a man rushed forward. A blur of black hair and brown clothes. The short blades in his hand sliced through the air as he danced around the remaining members of Milo's party.

They fell, one by one, with their weapons half-drawn. The smell of burning flesh rose in the air. Not a single drop of blood dripped from their bodies.

"You know..." the man sighed, tossing his hair back as he approached Kano with a smile, "...when your mom said you don't fight, I didn't think she meant to the death."

"Uncle Taerus," Kano breathed out as he looked up at the man. He was clad in leather armor. His blades weren't in his hands, but they were red from the heat of his palms all the same.

Taerus had palms as black and burnt as wood in a fire. He smelled faintly of ash. Kano had never seen him when he wasn't smiling.

"Let's get you home, eh, Kano?" Taerus quirked his head towards the river. His blades snapping back into their holsters with a click as Taerus dropped his arms to his side. Kano nodded and scrambled to his feet.

Chana was groggy, head lulling to the side, but she could stand on her own two feet. Kano helped her across the river, the hem of her dress catching in the water. She sighed as the current slid around her feet.

A sizzle rose up as Taerus crossed. He hummed, unbothered by the steam rising around him.

"Last time I saw you two..." Taerus snorted, shaking his head, "...actually, I can't even remembered when I last saw you."

"The spring festival," Chana croaked, tongue swiping over her cracking lips.

Kano nodded, one arm wrapped around Chana's waist as she leaned heavily on him for support. He looked up at Taerus as he walked backwards in front of them, "We were twelve. You bought us ale."

"Oh yeah." Taerus cringed, brow furrowing, "You think your mother will remember that?"

"Yes." Kano and Chana answered in tandem. Taerus pouted, spinning on his heels to walk forward. The gate to the village was rising on the horizon and there was a figure waiting just beyond.

Taeshi was not someone anyone kept waiting. Not if they knew what was good for them anyway.

[itslookingback]

hatsune archivist

Some of y'all really take this to heart.

[cottonthumb-archive]

❦ The cabin lurched precariously to the right and Milo squeaked with alarm.

The entire ride to Circhester had been like this, most of it he’d spent with his eyes tightly shut and his hands clutching the life out of the taxi’s upholstery. He’d pointedly avoided looking out the window at any moment. The Corviknight overhead squawked in response to the farmer’s Rookidee like squeak and Milo wondered if the Pokémon was concerned for him or teasing him. He reached out one hand to the bag at his side, his fingers resting on the smooth surface of his wrapped up gift. He tried to think of what it’d be like once he landed. Moving his headspace to solid ground would probably help with the panic.

Then the taxi shook and he practically squawked this time.

By the time Milo arrived on the cold northern lands of Circhester, his legs were gelatinous. He looked pale, but still managed to throw a tentative ‘thank you’ back to his driver and the Corviknight. Taking a seat on the nearest bench to gather himself, Milo fumbled to pluck his phone out of the coat’s pocket, not wanting to wake up his Rotom who’d napped the long trip off. Slowly, he typed out his text.

[To Gordie]: Just arrived. I’m taking a bit of a breather by Circhester Station. [To Gordie]: See you in a bit!

He was still shaking - more on account of leftover fear than cold - when he finished. Milo sighed heavily, once more resting a hand onto the bag he’d brought along. Briefly, he wished he could call on one of his partners for some added comfort, but knew that none of them would appreciate the biting chill.

Well... He’d be fine in a bit. There was a birthday to celebrate. He’d come over to meet a dear friend and he’d be up and running in no time to do so!

@gigekitanzan