#the cat's name is mr whiskers for anyone wondering

[doz99]

Once upon a time, in a small village nestled among rolling hills, there lived a curious woman named Evelyn. She had an insatiable appetite for gossip, and her ears were always pricked for the juiciest tales. It seemed as though she had an uncanny ability to sniff out the most captivating secrets and scandals, and her tongue wagged with delight as she shared them with anyone who would lend an ear.

One sunny morning, while strolling through the village market, Evelyn overheard a hushed conversation between two women. Their voices carried whispers of a mysterious event that had supposedly occurred the night before. Unable to resist the allure of a new tale, Evelyn discreetly maneuvered closer, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

The two women engaged in animated conversation, their voices laced with intrigue. The owner of the mischievous cat was Mrs. Harper, a middle-aged woman known for her meticulous housekeeping and love for her pets. The recipient of the tale was Mrs. Thompson, a jovial and gregarious woman who always seemed to have a smile on her face.

Mrs. Harper, her voice tinged with exasperation, recounted the events of the previous evening. She explained how her mischievous feline companion, named Whiskers, had managed to tip over a jug of milk in her cozy kitchen. The white liquid cascaded across the floor, creating a sticky mess that seemed impossible to clean up.

To her dismay, Mrs. Harper's husband, Mr. Harper, had arrived home just as the unfortunate incident unfolded. He was none too pleased with the mess and, in a fit of frustration, banished Whiskers to the backyard as punishment. Little did they know that their beloved pet would soon go missing, leading to a search that left them perplexed and worried.

Evelyn was ecstatic upon hearing this news. She eagerly anticipated spreading the word throughout the village, fueling intrigue and causing the hearts of the residents to skip a beat with curiosity. Without hesitation, she decided to share this secret with her close friend, Chloe.

Evelyn eagerly greeted Chloe at her cozy home with a blooming garden. She could no longer contain herself and, radiating excitement, delved into the story of the incident that had unfolded in Mrs. Harper's house.

"Chloe, you won't believe what happened!" exclaimed Evelyn, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her dress. "Mrs. Harper and her husband committed a terrible act. They cruelly punished their poor cat, and it ran away from home!"

Chloe, fascinated and astonished, sat down on a beautiful bench in the garden, ready to listen to all the details of this dramatic story. Evelyn began to narrate, embellishing each detail to captivate Chloe's imagination.

"Here's how it all happened," continued Evelyn, relying on the fictional details crafted in her vivid imagination. "Mrs. Harper and her husband returned home after a long day. They were exhausted and irritable, and an air of anger surrounded them. It's no wonder their rage eventually descended upon the unfortunate cat, which accidentally spilled milk on the floor!"

"Oh no! Poor cat," exclaimed Chloe, her eyes welling up with sympathetic tears. "What kind of awful people could treat an animal that way?"

Evelyn nodded, continuing to weave dramatic elements into her story. "And then, after this horrific incident, the cat became frightened and ran away from home. Mrs. Harper and her husband searched high and low, but the cat seemed to have vanished into thin air. It's such a tragic tale."

Chloe listened intently, her imagination conjuring images of the scared cat hiding in the shadows, seeking refuge from its harsh treatment. She couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for the innocent creature caught in the midst of a cruel rumor. Little did they know, the story of the cat's disappearance would take on a life of its own, morphing and distorting as it traveled from one person to another in the village.

Chloe was determined to share such a gripping story with her new neighbor and friend, Emma. She believed that Emma would appreciate the intrigue and empathize with the plight of the poor cat. Without wasting a moment, Chloe hurried to Emma's house, eager to relay the tale that had captivated her.

Breathless from excitement, Chloe burst through Emma's front door and found her in the cozy living room, engrossed in a book. "Emma, you won't believe what I just heard!" Chloe exclaimed, her eyes wide with a mix of concern and fascination. "It's about Mrs. Harper and her husband—they were absolutely ruthless to their cat, and the poor thing ran away from home!"

Emma, setting aside her book, turned her full attention to Chloe, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and compassion. "Tell me everything, Chloe. Spare no detail," Emma urged, her voice filled with anticipation.

With a dramatic flourish, Chloe began to paint a vivid picture of the events that had unfolded in Mrs. Harper's household. "Picture this, Emma. It was a stormy night, with lightning flashing across the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Inside their house, an eerie silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of Mrs. Harper's angry voice and the screeching of furniture being thrown. In a fit of rage, they brutally beat their innocent cat, accusing it of causing mischief. The poor creature, terrified and in pain, managed to escape through an open window and disappeared into the night."

Emma gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. "That's absolutely heartbreaking, Chloe. How could anyone be so cruel to a defenseless animal? I hope the cat finds safety and comfort somewhere."

Chloe nodded solemnly, her eyes glistening with empathy. "I couldn't agree more, Emma. The cat's plight tugs at my heartstrings. We must spread the word and raise awareness about the cruelty that took place. No innocent creature should suffer such mistreatment."

With a shared determination, Chloe and Emma vowed to be the voice for the voiceless, to shine a light on the darkness that had befallen the poor cat.

As the rumor twisted and turned through the village, it grew darker and more macabre with each retelling. The townspeople, fueled by their own imaginations and embellishments, became convinced that the wicked family had mercilessly torn apart the cat and buried its lifeless body in their garden. Anger boiled within the hearts of the furious mob as they marched toward the home of the supposed cruel owners.

With torches held high and indignation in their voices, the villagers approached the house, ready to confront the heartless perpetrators. But to their astonishment, as they reached the front yard, they saw a heartwarming sight that shattered their preconceived notions.

There, peacefully dozing on the lap of its owner, sat the very cat they believed to be a victim of brutality. The feline purred contentedly, completely unharmed and oblivious to the frenzy it had unknowingly caused. The crowd stood in stunned silence, their anger dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

Realization dawned on the villagers, and they began to question the validity of the tale they had so eagerly embraced. It became apparent that each person had added their own embellishments and fabrications, weaving a web of falsehoods that had led them astray. In their quest for a captivating story, they had lost sight of the truth.

Lessons were learned that day in the village of Meadowbrook, as the townspeople confronted the consequences of their gossip and the power of unchecked speculation. They realized that in every matter, it is the details that matter most, and altering them to fit one's desires can lead to disastrous consequences.

From that day forward, the villagers approached rumors and hearsay with caution, understanding that a single word, twisted by the whispers of others, can become a monster of its own. They learned the importance of seeking the truth, questioning their own biases, and cherishing the integrity of every tale they shared.

And so, as the sun set over the quaint village, a newfound wisdom settled upon the hearts of its inhabitants. They vowed to be more mindful of the stories they passed along, for in the end, it was the truth that held the power to unite and heal, rather than the tantalizing allure of a distorted tale.

[matzsmith]

I'm totally with you on that, animals always get me too. If there's a dog on the street, I'm the person stopping to say hello, I don't mind if I'm late to wherever I'm going. I'd have been tearing up right along with you about the squirrel. I saw a video the other day of a dog trying to "help" his owner garden by digging right where she was planting flowers. I was in bits laughing. How can you not love them? But to answer your question, your boyfriend might raise an eyebrow or two, though I can't think of anyone who wouldn't want a garden squirrel as a regular guest. You could totally name him, something like Nutty or Mr. Whiskers. Adopting a what now? You're gonna have a whole wildlife sanctuary at this rate. Ohh, I don't doubt it for a second. Wanting a squirrel and a deer as pets, totally normal... in a Disney movie. I wonder why a dog or a cat isn't enough to you, even a bird, or a pig!

one thing you should know about me is that i’m an animal lover, first and foremost. before anything else, animals hold a special place in my heart. just the other day, i watched a video of a squirrel approaching someone for water—literally reaching out for their bottle. and when they offered him some, he drank like his life depended on it. naturally, i cried—how could i not? now, how crazy do you think my boyfriend will think i am if i tell him i want a pet squirrel? i mean, we do have one that occasionally visits our garden, but he never stays long. still, can you imagine? a squirrel that regularly drops by for food and water, one we could even name? i’m also dead set on fostering a deer one day. and yes, i assure you, i am perfectly sane—really, i am. / @matzsmith

[lillianabluejeans]

Writing is hard, this is all i got

@taznovembercelebration cat or baby

-

When Barry walked into his house after being away for a week on a mission, there were a few things he expected. A kiss from his wife, a hug from his daughter, maybe even a warm home cooked meal. What he came home to instead was a grey kitten screaming with all the air in its tiny lungs and two very tired looking family members on the floor with it.

"What's going on here?"

"We found a kitten," Lilliana says, nudging a little syringe into said kitten's mouth, quieting it.

"I could hear it crying," Lup says, her elbow up on the couch cushion and her head propped against her hand. "I thought it was a baby, honestly. It was driving me nuts, we tore the house apart trying to figure out where it was coming from. Eventually we found mom and babies underneath the deck, this little guy was the only one still going."

"I cried," Lilli says bluntly, "a lot."

"So we have a cat now," Barry says.

Lilli puts the syringe aside and cradles the kitten to her chest, "I have a cat now."

Lup leans her head back to look up at him, "I said we'd help with expenses and kitten stuff, but if she wanted to keep him, she has to take care of him."

[angloie]

Kitten

"I found this little thing on the side of the road!"

solangelo + fluff!

warnings: swearing, my hasty writing.

Even before the rain, Nico was having a pretty shitty day.

Well, actually, for him everyday was a sort of bad day. Muscles sore from training, headaches from shadowtraveling- dont even get him started on the ignorant lady he bumped into on his way to get some food. It was a shame, really. Nico was scowling so hard at the fact that his mood was ruined without food. Frenchfries? Hamburgers? Chicken nuggets?? Gone.

It was just pretty peachy that he was drenched from the downpour of rain, right?

"Im home," Nico announces when he opens the door. Shoes padded down on the newly soaked ground. His scowl only deepened. "Will?" He calls out when he hears no reply.

Radio silence. 

"Mmphh! Ha ha! Q-quit moving," A familiar voice muffles from the other room. That must be him, Nico thinks.

A quiet question pops into his head about Will, his boyfriend, having some sort of affair. Then he’s reminded by the fact that Will is very much a dork and would have ahard time finding anyone else. That's pretty reassuring. 

"Hey, Will," Nico knocks on the wooden door. A strained laugh, and then more muffled noises. He narrows his eyes.

“I’ll be there in a sec!” Will shouts as footsteps shuffle on the hardwood floor. “Gah!” He opens the door, face only thing visible. The rest of the room is covered by the barrier of wood.

“Welcome home!” Will smiles brightly. Gosh, Nico could never get tired of it. Unlucky of him, before Nico can smile back, a crash is heard from inside the room.

“Hm?” He tries to peek in. Will blocks his sight with his body. “What’s going on in there?”

“N-nothing, love, it's nothing,” The blonde laughs nervously. At that point, another chorus of crashes begins. “Shit.” He mutters under his breath.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yep!”

You're a horrible liar. Nico wants to say. 

“I heard that, you brat!”

He wedges his foot in the crack of the door, wedging it open. Will pushes back lightly, the nervous look in his eyes intensifying. Weird.

“I’m coming in.” He eyes Will. “Since there's 'nothing'.”

“No! You really, really, don't wanna do that.” Will avoids Nico's gaze, a bullet of sweat running down his forehead. Now that he thinks about it, was Will out in the rain too? His orange shirt was a bit damp. So was his hair.

Nico might be on the small side, but boy can he pack a shove. Not enough so that he injured Will, but enough to knock the door open wide. He thinks the door might've flewn of it's hinges.

“I wouldn't recommend tha-" The son of Apollo tries to reasonate before he scans his eyes in the surrounding area. Okay, there's books scattered everywhere- some of Will's medschool books- a shattered glass pot, water spilled on the ground, and- is that-

Meooow!

A cat?

“I found it on the side of the road, and,” Will makes hasty hand gestures, trying to come up with something. “It was cold, so I just-”

“Its cute,” Nico walks past the shattered glass and who knows what. He just hoped there's no cat poop. Gross.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I... Just didn't think you were the type to be interested in stuff like that. You know, fluffy and cute kittens. Mr. King of Ghosts.” He tilts his head to the side in wonder, watching Nico pick it up and pat it on the head. The kitten, a mix of white, brown and black mewls in response. It's whiskers brush against his pale hand.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! turns out you are!” He smiles. “Aww, my wittle Nico has a soft spot,” 

Nico blushes, but doesn't argue further nor does he disagree.. “So what?” The tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink, a drastic change from the ghostly pale.

“Nothing. It's cute. You're cute. And by the way- You have a name for it or something?”

The kitten mewls again as Nico pats it, him contemplating ideas in his head. He looks over to Will. He's blushing, a lazy smile plastered on his face. 

“Can we even take care of it?”

“Um, I bought some stuff before you came, actually. A litterbox, food, water bowl and some milk formula. The basics.” Will walks over from the doorway to him. “We can always ask Frank to do is a little favour.”

“Gods, please don't put that image in my head.” He rolls his eyes. “How about...” Nico holds up the kitten. It's eyes blink at him. “Acinonynx?”

“Yeah, I have no idea what you just said.”

“Then I guess Mr. Cuddles will do.” The newly named Mr. Cuddles jumps out of the boy's grasp, opting to jump out of the warmth and into a glass-coated floor instead of staying put. 

“I don’t think so, Mr. Cuddles!” Will catches it before it reaches the ground, the both of them sighing in relief. “Before we do anything else.. we gotta clean up.” He says shakily.

“On it.”

cats catscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatscatsca-

[the-starless-sky]

The Cat’s Whiskers x Akan Yatsura / “JUSTICE” voice drama part 2

Exams ended...!! Hello I am alive...!! And very (not) ready for “PRIDE”...!! T_T

“JUSTICE” Part 2

Yohei: So, you bastards… under whose orders did you come here?

Mobs: We’re not working under anyone! That kinda thing doesn’t matter, just cough up the cash, fuckin’ bastads!!

Iori: Tch… so they’re just punks.

Oi, we’ll let you off today, so get out.

Mobs: Don’t look down on us! If ya don’t give us the cash, y’all gonna get hurt!

Yohei: You’re letting them go? You really have that soft spot on you.

Iori: There’s no helping it. No matter what you do, guys like these won’t even get you 1 yen.

Mobs: Makin’ a fool out of us...! You shitheads! Urrah!!

(Mob punched Iori)

Yohei: You bastard... what the fuck did you just...?

Iori: Leave it, danna. I’m fine.

Yohei: Don’t think you can leave unscathed after laying your hands on Iori...!

Mobs: Bring it on, get me!!

(Yohei and the mobs fight)

(The mobs fall down and cough in pain)

Iori: Danna. That’s too much.

Yohei: Huh? Oh. Sorry.

Iori: Well, then...

(Iori forcibly pulled one of the mobs up)

Mobs: Ahh... ah!

Iori: You bastards. Learnt something, didn’t you?

If you pick a fight with real yakuza like us, you ain’t getting away just like this. Understand?

This time, we’ll let you off like this. Be grateful, won’t you?

Mobs: Y-yes... we’re very sorry...

Iori: Haha. Even so, danna. You really overdid it.

It’s gonna take lots of time to clean this up.

Yohei: Sigh. Small fries making us waste so much time.

Jeez, what a pain.

_

Saimon: He-eh, you were very rough, weren’t you, Yohei.

Yohei: Well, ‘cause that time I didn’t have any brains but physical strength.

Zen: If it’s physical strength, then I, too...!

Cough. Then, where does the maneki-neko comes in?

Iori: Wahahaha! Oh yeah, right.

Then, a few days after that uproar, we got called to Boss’s office.

We went in high spirits, thinkin’ we’re gon’ get a reward or something, but...

_

Yohei: Jeez, that damn boss messing around like that...

What the hell’s with giving us this maneki-neko!?

Iori: Hahaha, our guess were wrong, huh.

Yohei: We protected the shop’s name and loaded customers, so he could’ve given us something more... you know!?

Iori: Well, it’s probably simply because he didn’t have anything prepared. After all, those guys suddenly came to our face by themselves and then left just like that. Seriously, it feels like we were wheedled out of it cleanly.

Yohei : Well, when he just up and smiled like that, as he said, ‘I have high expectations for you’, there’s really nothing else we could say.

Iori: Right.

Well, we’ll answer his expectations, quickly get lots of money, and make the boss, us, and the Suiseki group, everyone all merry.

Yohei: Haha, yeah. Let’s do it. I’m counting on you, maneki-neko.

Iori: Ya shoulda said ‘partner’ right there, like, ‘I’m counting on you, Iori’!

Yohei: Oi, oi, you’re talking like Boss now.

Iori: Haha. How was it? I look like Boss when I talk like that, don’t I?

Yohei: No way. Stupid.

Iori: Haha.

Yohei: Hahaha.

_

Saimon: So that kind of thing happened, huh, Yohei? I didn’t know at all.

Zen: To think that that maneki-neko was a gift from the Boss...

Iori: How’s it!? A real good story, ain’t it?

Zen: Yes. A lot of things happened in the past, wasn’t it.

Iori: Well, that’s ‘cause we’ve been workin’ together for almost all the time.

Yohei: It was a story from really long ago, though.

Iori: Come of think of it, at that time there were those Alter Trigger Company guys too, weren’t there?

Yohei: Hah. What unpleasant connection, seriously.

Iori: Seriously an unpleasant connection, it is.

Yohei: Hm?

Iori: Danna, ya also heard of it recently, right? The Alter Trigger Company name.

Saimon: Why do you guys... that...?

Iori: Hahahaha! If ya work in this industry, ya gon’ hear lotsa stuff.

Yohei: And? How much do you know?

Iori: Nah, I dunno the details, but I only know that this bar’s ‘bout to be bought... and who’s gonna buy it.

Yohei: As expected, news travels fast to you.

Yeah. To protect this place, we have to get the one billion.

But this and that have no――...!

Iori: And that’s the deal. So, y’know anything about Paradox Live and Alter Trigger, danna?

Saimon: What are you trying to say?

Iori: The sudden buy-out uproar and the opening of Paradox Live. Plus, the winning prize is exactly the amount of money that y’all needed, one billion yen. Don’tcha think it’s too good a scenario for mere coincidence?

Saimon: In short, Alter Trigger Company is connected to all of it... is what you’re trying to say, is it?

Iori: Who knows?

Saimon: But... No, don’t tell me... that kind of thing is...

Yohei: We’re... being manipulated?

Iori: ‘Sup with that... seein’ that reaction, y’all don’t seem to have any info.

Saimon: ...

Iori: Seems like it’s a fruitless effort on our part. Well, let’s just say I told y’all ‘cause of our old friendly relations.

There’s somethin’ ‘bout this competition. Do your best to be careful.

Yohei: Oi, what the hell’s up about this event!?

Saimon: Anything is fine―please tell us whatever you-

(Bar door opens, and the bell rings)

Ryuu: We’re hooome!

Reo: Big Bro, we’re back!

Yohei: Sigh... seems that the adults’ time ended.

Hokusai: Hey... you said you guys keep cats... where are they?

Shiki: Oh... sorry, we made it so they can’t come into the shop. Right now, they’re probably asleep upstairs...

Hokusai: Even though I brought lots of setarias... [1]

Reo: Don’t be that dejected, Hokusai. Instead, seems like Satsuki will play with that!

Hokusai: Satsuki... really?

Satsuki: Ha? Who the hell wants to play with some wild grass?

Oi, Hokusai, stop looking at me with eyes full of expectations!

Reo: Can’t help it! Then, guess the demon king will do! Heere, come here~!

Ryuu: There’s no way Ryuu will wag his tail to such a grass...

Woof, woof~ Let’s play, let’s play!

Hokusai: Ryuu. Paw.

Ryuu: Woof!

Hokusai: The other paw.

Ryuu: Woof!

Satsuki: No, I told you it’s a setaria! The fuck’s with ‘woof’!?

Hokusai: Ah.

Shiki: U-um, inside of the shop, please don’t...!

Saimon: Haha, it’s alright, Shiki. We’re already closed, after all.

Zen: We’re very sorry that our kids...

Yohei: I feel like I kinda understand your feelings...

Satsuki: Thanks for the food, Big Bro! Raimen-tei’s ramen’s the best today, too! And the change...

Iori: S’kay, just take it, Satsuki.

Satsuki: Seriously!? Is it really ok!?

Iori: Let’s say it’s a tip for printing that one time. ‘Kay? [2]

Reo: Ah, what? Only Satsuki!? That’s unfair! Me too, me too!

Satsuki: Haah!? You didn’t even do anything!

Reo: Haah!? What are you saying? A cute kid like me has a value by just being there. Unlike Satsuki! Right, Shiki?

Satsuki: HAA!?

Shiki: H-hey, let’s not fight...

Satsuki: You ugly! Shiki, back off!!

Shiki: A-ah.... you’re so mean, Satsuki-kun...

Zen: Aah, they’re at it again. I’m sorry.

Oi!! What the hell are you guys on about!!?

(In the background.)

Reo: You’re frustrated, aren’t you~? For not being popular!

Satsuki: Oi!!!

Zen: How many times is it already!?

 Saimon: They seem like they’re always fighting.

Iori: Haha. They’re what you call somethin’ like ‘the closer you are...’! [3]

Ryuu: By the way, what were boss and the others talking about?

Saimon: Hm? Oh, just small talks.

Ryuu: Reeeally? Hmmm? Ah, I know!

You guys were talking about the people standing behind everyone... right!?

Saimon: ...!? Ryuu...!?

Reo: What is it, what is it? Talking about ghosts?

Ryuu: No~ It’s a-dults’-ta-lk!

Iori: Oi. Whaddaya mean? Ya know somethin’?

Ryuu: Know? About what? The ingredients of konnyaku?

Iori: Sonny, don’t be boring and say sloppy things.

Ryuu: To pack... [4] like, packing chikuwa and cucumber?

Saimon: I’m sorry. Could you please not press this child with questions?

Iori: O-oh... yeah, ya right. Sorry, sorry.

This sonny... he knows somethin’?

Ryuu: Hee-eey, if ghosts do appear what do we do~?

Satsuki: Hey, Shiki, is this guy always like this? Even in the ramen shop he just keeps blabbering on whatever comes up on his mind.

Ryuu: Shiki’s arm is really white and boney, huh!? Calcium!!

(Ryuu bites Shiki’s arm.)

Shiki: I-it hurts! Ryuu-kun, stop biting me!

Ryuu: Munch, munch...

Reo: Seriously, how could you live together with that? Ain’t it crazy?

Shiki: No, I’m already used to it...

Ryuu: Woof, munch, munch!

Satsuki: Nothing is scarier than routine...!

Shiki: But, he also has a really kind side to him...

Yohei: Oi, until when are you gonna bite Shiki’s arm!?

Ryuu: Oooouch! Master’s bullying me! I’m against violence!

Hokusai: Shiki, are you okay? It hurts, didn’t it? Good boy...

Shiki: Thank you...

Saimon: Sigh...

Shiki: Owner...?

 (in the background.)

Reo: Come here, good boy, good boy.

Ryuu: Woof, woof!

Reo: Here, here, here, and there!

Ryuu: Woof, woof, woof!

 Shiki: Um, are you okay...?

Saimon: Hm? Why?

Shiki: It kind of looked liek you were spacing out... I wondered if you were tired...

Saimon: Ah... I was just thinking. Thank you for worrying, Shiki. You’re a kind child.

Shiki: N-not at all.

(Iori clapped his hands twice.)

Iori: Well then, it’s already late. Let’s call it a night.

Reo: Yeeees~!

Zen: Even though we said we’ll only have a glass, in the end we stayed for a long time.

Saimon: It’s alright. Come again whenever you want.

Hokusai: It’d be nice if I can meet the kitties next time...

Yohei: Yeah, you can even bring them home if you want.

Hokusai: Really...!?

Reo: No, no. We already have Mr. Monkey in our house, right? By the name of Satsuki!

Hokusai: I see...

Satsuki: Oi, oi, oi, Hokusai! The hell do you mean by ‘I see’!?

Ryuu: Bye-bye, thank you, come again!

Shiki: We’ll be waiting for your next visit.

Zen: Yeah, thanks for the food!

Iori: Hey, brats! Wontcha get outta here fast!?

Reo: See ya~!

Hokusai: Hehe...

Satsuki: Let’s come again!

 Iori: Danna. I’m different from when I’m still chasing after you.

Now, these guys’re my family.

So, to protect ‘em too, I can’t lose on stage.

I ain’t gon’ give ya mercy even though we’re old comrades.

Yohei: Heh. Bring it on.

‘Cause we also can’t lose.

No way i’d lose the bar and my comrades.

Iori: Well then, the next time we meet’s on the stage!

Yohei: Yeah. Just you wait.

(Iori walks out of the bar.)

Yohei: Oi, you’re Gazen, aren’t you?

Zen: Yes?

Yohei: Him... Iori, look after him carefully, wont you? I’m counting on you.

Zen: Yes. You don’t even have to tell me that.

Yohei: Heh. I see.

(Zen walks out of the bar.)

Yohei: Well then, now you all go and clean up! Move quickly!

Shiki: A-ah, yes!

Ryuu: Eeeeh?

Saimon: You too, Yohei.

Yohei: Yes, yes, understood, Owner-sama.

Then, Shiki, you clean. Ryuu, get the dustpan.

Shiki: Yes!

Ryuu: Understood!

Notes

[1] Neko-jarashi, setaria or foxtail, the grass you play with cats with.

[2] I'm actually not sure this is his exact words, but anyways it's a tip for doing some kind of chore.

[3] As in, 'you're so close you fight'or 'the closer you are the more you fight with each other'.

[4] Tsumaranai means boring, but it’s also the negative form of tsumaru (to pack).

[bo-bo-bean]

Octonauts Game Night

(Since there are no requests, I wrote something for Octonauts!! Hope you all enjoy!)

(Warning; LOOOOONG)

Octonauts Game Night

It was a calm night in the octopod. Everyone was lounging around, nothing to do. Dashi went through her old photos while Captain Barnacles was watching the window, seeing fish and aquatic mammals flowing through the water in peace. He would typically be happy there was no trouble… but today felt oh so slow. Kwazii seemed to have agreed, letting out a long groan.

“There has to be some sort of adventure, matey!” he told no one in particular. Everyone only made a noise in agreement, Shellington looking up from his book that he has read for the fifth time today, giving a nod.

“I wish there was some sort of creature to examine, maybe a new seaweed. I’d even take a new type of rock…” he huffed out, his bang fluttering with his head tilting backwards.

“Now, Octonauts,” the captain settled everyone down. “I’m sure there will be something.”

“Well, let’s hope so,” Kwazii whined. “I’ll be ready for anything! Swashbucklin’ with the swordfish! Finding a new monster or beast!”

“That are fictional…” Shellington could only mutter under his breath. Captain Barnacles could now tell things were going to get tenser and tenser until a fight breaks out, so he made a decision, sprouting out words.

“Game night!” he clapped his hands. This got everyone’s attention, interests peeking. “Yes! A game night sounds wonderful…!”

“I agree!” Peso beamed, happy it’ll be something where no one would get hurt. But he had his first aid kit with him, just in case.

“Ah, what shall we play then? Checkers?” Professor Inkling offered.

“Charades, perhaps!” Dashi stood up, putting her camera down.

“Maybe pictionary!” Shellington beamed.

“Arrgh, lancing sounds like a suitable game!” Kwazii stood up on the table. Peso gulped and held his first aid kit close to his chest.

“M-maybe something less dangerous…?” he asked. “Like… hide and seek!”

“Ah, I’ll find ya’ll in under five minutes if we play that,” Tweak bragged a little. “I should suggest, tag, though! Get the blood pumpin’!” The mention of blood made Peso turn pale. Tunip chirped an option, all heads turning to Shellington for a translation.

“I don’t think we can play tug of war, Tunip,” he giggled. “We haven’t a strong enough rope.”

Everyone began to clamour about their opinion on what to play, the polar bear scratching his chin in thought, then his eyes lit up.

“Ah, everyone! Idea!” he shouted. His deep voice roared through their own voices, everyone turning to face him. “Deep Sea Adventure!” With those three words, everyone’s eyes lit up and all agreed. The vegimals went to make snacks with Shellington’s help, Kwazii and Captain Barnacles bringing out a large table from storage. Peso brought in a mat covered in squares, having the design of islands and villages and caves. Tweak and Dashi brought in the chairs, Mr. Inkling getting the rule boards and books from his library.

Deep Sea Adventure was a game played by the Octonauts many times. It was like a roleplaying game where they make their characters and their actions are depended on by two dice.

“Has anyone seen the dice?” Dashi wondered. Looking under the table. Everyone began to search around, Shellington even searching his own satchel, just in case. This gave Kwazii a gasp as he ran to his chest in his room. He dug through some old treasure maps, little gold doubloons, and his great grandfather’s Calico Jack’s telescope and eventually fished out some dice. He slid down the octotube and presented them as if they were some sort of rubies.

“I got some, me hearties!” he proclaimed. The vegimals cheered, Kwazii seeing a display of fish biscuits, five varieties of kelp cakes, muffins, a bowl of popcorn, another of peanuts, and mugs of cocoa scattered on the surface. “Well, this looks like a night fit for a pirate on his night off!”

“Well let’s start, shall we?” the bear clapped his hands again. We’ll need to split into teams of two.”

Shellington and Professor Inkling beamed at each other, high fiving each other with tentacle and paw. Barnacles nodded at them. “Shellington and Inkling are one. Kwazii, want to be on my team?”

“‘Tis be an honor!!” Kwazii nodded.

“I call Dashi on my team!” Tweak raised her hand, Dashi laughing, them both holding hands.

“Girl power!” Dashi cheered.

“Right on that!”

“And then Peso and Tunip?” Barnacles asked them. They both nodded, Tunip trilling with excitement.

“Do the other vegimals want to play?” Shellington asked the little creature. Turnip chirped and shook his head. “Ah, too busy gardening? Well, we’ll at least save them some snacks.”

“And the loot once the captain and I win it!!” Kwazii laughed.

“Ohoho, you want to bet, do you?” Inkling playfully jeered.

“Don’t think you want to take that bet, Kwazii,” Shellington giggled, taking his seat. Inkling took his seat next to him, them both already whispering.

“Well, let’s do our best and have fun, Tunip!” Peso cheered on his own team. Tunip cheered in agreement, taking a seat and Peso plopping himself next to him. Captain Barnacles sat at the front, Kwazii taking the chair next to him. Dashi and Tweak sat together as well and soon, everyone was quiet. Barnacles took out a cardboard folded five times mat and looked at it, looking at a scenario. He rolled the dice, counted it, and then nodded.

“Okay! Here’s the scenario,” he started. “Inkling and Shellington are holding the treasure.” Everyone turned their heads to them, the two laughing hysterically. “It’s up to us to get it while they can set up any traps or travel to wherever they want. But, it all depends on the number of dice rolled. 2 means failure, 3 going on to be a fail, but tried attempt, and so on. Twelve means they get automatic privileges to whatever they wish to do.”

“Aaargh, last time, didn’t they bamboozle us with a ship full of monkeys…!?” Kwazii groaned.

“Well, it was funny, so I’d say it was worth it,” Inkling added his input, making Shellington laugh more.

“R-remember when you wanted to fight but rolled a three…!?” he wheezed out. Kwazii’s cheeks and ears flushed with embarrassment. “You fell into the wahahahater hahahahaha!!!”

“M-mayhaps, matey!” He quickly gained composure. “Just wait, though! Soon, you will be fighting the monkeys!” This sent everyone into fits of laughter, the captain smiling. This was a wonderful sight, seeing his crew laugh and be happy. It truly warmed his heart. He looked at the mat and looked at Dashi and Tweak.

“If you two can answer a question about marine biology, then you will go first. But if you answer incorrectly, then someone else gets the chance to steal.”

“Shoot!” Dashi beamed. Tweak seemed as excitable as she was.

“What male aquatic animal has babies?” he asked. Shellington almost blurted out the answer, but covered his mouth. Of course, the marine biologist was close to bursting with knowledge.

“Um… I think… that’s a seahorse, right?” Dashi asked.

“Correct!” he nodded. “Everyone gather your pieces and Dashi and Tweak may.. Well… what’s your team name?”

“Girl Power!!” they both answered with glee. He chuckled and looked at Kwazii.

“We should call ourselves the Swashbuckling Pirates of Red Beard’s Cursed Ship of Treasures and Glory!”

“... maybe just Pirates of Red Beard will be suitable,” he chuckled, his attention focusing on Peso and Tunip.

“We’ll be the Small but Fierce!” Peso answered for them both.

“Ya got that right, matey!” Kwazii approved of their name. Peso giggled in response, Barnacles looking at Shellington and Inkling. They both whispered and then looked at the captain.

“We were going to say The Winners, but perhaps Marine Match will suit better!” Inkling proposed.

“Okay! We have team names! Get a piece everyone and let’s start!”

Girl Power took a pink squid piece, Pirate’s of Red Beard taking a red Seahorse piece, Small but Fierce taking a blue shark and the Marine Match grabbing a green Sea Turtle piece. Dashi and Tweak both talked as everyone set up their pieces. Inkling put their piece at the end of the mat where the X is since they had the treasure. The goal of the same was to defeat everyone on the board. The others were supposed to take the treasure.

“Okay, we want to move…!” Dashi said. She took the dice and rolled it, seeing seven. Tweak moved their piece seven squares. The dice also allowed movement, but you could only move and not act in the same turn.

“Oh, our turn, Tunip!” Peso smiled. “We’ll be safe and move.” Tunip took the dice in his little hands and tossed them down, getting a twelve. “Good roll, Tunip!!” The creature cheered as Peso moved their piece. Barnacles looked at Kwazii, who was the KING of Deep Sea Adventures.

“Captain, I say we launch an attack to the Marine Match!” he proudly said. Barnacles chuckled and nodded, grabbing the dice and tossing them within his paws.

“And how do we attack?” he asked. But, out of sheer luck, he knew the answer. “Canons?”

“H-how did you know!?” he gasped.

“Heh, captain knows his crew,” he winked, tossing the dice down.

“Also, you use the same move as the first move every time,” Dashi giggled.

“I-I do not!”

“Fifteen,” Shellington pointed out, holding up a piece paper, where at the top it said ‘Times when Kwazii attacked a team with a canon as his first turn.’ and underneath were fifteen talleymarks.

“Shiver me whiskers, that can’t be right!” Kwazii lifted his eyepatch in shock.

“... oh you’re right,” Shellington smiled, adding another talleymark. “Sixteen. Thank you for pointing that out..!”

The cat grumbled and looked at the dice as they chose a side. It rolled to… two.

“Canon backfires and hits the Red Beards. They deal five damage points.”

“What…!? I call treason!” Everyone laughed, even the captain and eventually, Kwazii joined along. Shellington took the dice and looked at Inkling, them both whispering.

“They are always the same team,” Dashi noticed.

“Well, they are the brains,” Peso smiled. “And they are very good at the game.”

“Oh, not this time, mateys!”

“We choose to make a barricade around our area,” Shellington smiled. “With concrete and bricks.”

Professor Inkling rolled the dice, rolling it to a nine.

“You both build a structurally sound barricade, but it will need nine hits to be taken down,” Captain announced. They both nodded and high fived each other.

“... aye… they be smart…” Kwazii scoffed. “We’ll need nine canon turns now!”

“Um, Kwazii, I think it would be smart, and safe, to use the rest of our turns not trying to kill ourselves,” Barny laughed.

“No risk, no win!”

“... big risk, big lose,” the captain corrected him. Kwazii groaned as Tweak rolled the dice.

“What should we do, Dashi?” she asked.

“Hmm… let’s go to the village by boat,” she smiled. “So let’s keep moving.”

Tweak tossed down the dice, getting eight and moving eight spaces. Just five more until the village. Kwazii took the dice, Barnacles speaking out before Kwazii could say canons again.

“U-um, how about we move, Kwazii?” he suggested.

“Ooouggh, fine, but we will get this booty if it’s the last thing I do…!”

He rolled, getting ten. They moved ten spaces, Peso rolling the dice. Tunip chirped, Peso glancing at Shellington.

“He wishes to attack us using a ram,” he answered, to which Tunip spoke to Shellington. “Heh, it’s alright, Tunip, no need to apologize. It’s just a game.”

With that permission, Peso tossed down the dice, getting ten.

“Ooh…!” Captain beamed. You ram into their barricade with success! Roll again to see how much you hit.”

Peso let Tunip roll, him getting three.

“Three hits, barricade is now down to six hits away…!”

“Ha! Now we only need SIX canons!” Kwazii laughed heartily.

“What is with ya and canons?” Tweak questioned. Shellington took the dice, the duo both whispering again and then nodded.

“Heh, sorry, Tunip and Peso, but we choose to attack,” Shellington spoke.

“With canons,” Inkling finished.

“My signature move!!” Kwazii yelled out. The otter tossed the dice down, rolling a twelve. Tunip fainted, Peso gasping.

“Hits are directed and do twice the damage. Roll again.”

Each team was given twenty health points, so it was a big risk. Inkling took the dice and rolled it, the sides each landing three. “Six, so Team Small but Fierce take twelve damage.” Tunip had just woken up to the news, fainting again.

“Grrrgh, pure luck, I say!” Kwazii made an excuse. Shellington giggled and tossed the dice to the girls.

“Well… we’ll get revenge, Kwazii!” Tweak laughed. “What do ya say, Dash?”

“I agree! We attack with clubs!”

“Haha, get them!” Kwazii cheered. However, the dice rolled to a four.

“You attempted to attack with clubs, but they fall in the water.”

“... well we tried,” Tweak shrugging, leaning back and munching on a carrot. Kwazii sighed, hearing Shellington’s giggle again. He sneered and took the dice.

“I attack with tickles!!”

“Ti-what?” Captain Barnacles blinked. Kwazii rolled the dice, not caring what it landed on and pounced on Shellington, squeezing his sides. The otter erupted in bubbly laughter, kicking his legs.

“K-Kwahahahzeeheehee hahahaha!! Staahaahahap it’s nahahaahaaht part hahahahahaaha!! Of the gaahahahahaame!!”

“It is now, me hearty!!” the playful cat moved his paws up to his ribs, Shellington squealing and trying to push away Kwazii.

“Nooohahahaha pleeheeheease!!! Hahahaahaha!!! C-cahaahan’t breheeheeheeheeathe!!!! Caahahahap hehehehelp!!”

Captain Barnacles laughed and went over, pulling Kwazii up from Shellington, who was lifted by Professor Inkling. He let out little giggles as Kwazii looked mighty proud of himself, sitting back down.

“... well that was our turn,” Barnacles chuckled.

“Are you okay, Shellington?” Peso wondered.

“Y-yeahahah…” he giggled out. Peso nodded, happy his friend was okay, and rolled the dice in his flippers.

“Tunip, I say we move closer,” he told the vegimal. Tunip nodded in agreement. Peso tossed the dice down, getting twelve again. “Flappity Flippers! Another twelve!”

“Ya got the lucky streak, me hearties!” Kwazii pumped his fist. They moved twelve spaces, close to a cave.

Inkling took the dice and whispered to Shellington, then he looked at his captain.

“Captain, we choose to fix our barricade.” Barnacles nodded as Mr. Inkling rolled a nine, the barricade now fifteen points strong. The polar bear took the dice and rolled it, deciding to move, Kwazii agreeing. So far, it seemed Peso was getting closer and closer to the treasure. The girls moved to the village and rolled to get items, which they succeeded.

“What did we get…!?” Dashi eagerly asked.

“Two apples, three suits of armor, an unknown box, and you both gained any health you lost.”

The two high fived with both paws, whooping. Peso rolled, looking at Tunip… and gulped.

“I want to explore the cave,” he said. “Or… we would.”

“You sure?” Captain Barnacles wondered. They both nodded, Peso rolling the dice down, it going to four.

“Hmm… you tried to explore, but it was too dark for you, so you evade the cave.”

Peso let out a sigh of relief, but also a little disappointed. Although, he knew what he was going to do next turn. Shellington took the dice, whispering to Inkling again, however, this whispering session seemed to be taking longer.

“I wonder what they’re planning,” Captain Barnacles wondered.

“I’ll tickle him again if he takes longer,” Kwazii promised. A few minutes later, they nodded and looked at the captain.

“We choose to stay.”

“Wh-all of that for staying!?” Kwazii gawked. Since they didn’t attack or move, they didn’t need to roll, but Shellington didn’t give the dice back.

“But we do wish to send supplies to heal Small but Fierce,” he smiled. Peso gasped with a smile, Tunip cheering. Captain Barnacles smiled fondly as Shellington rolled the dice, getting a nine.

“They get nine points in health…!” he announced.

“Wow… thank you, Shellington!” Peso smiled. Shellington nodded back.

Kwazii took the dice and looked at their piece and at the mat with the x mark. He tapped his chin.

“... captain, I say we attack,” he said.

“Again?” Barnacles wondered.

“Ah, but this time! I got a plan!” he beamed. “I want to attack.. With monkeys!!!!” With that, he threw the dice down, them tumbling around… and landing on twelve. Shellington and Inkling gasped, looking up as Barnacles was even surprised. He read out the situation.

“... well, we send out a boat of monkeys. They take down the barricade Marine Match make.”

“Drat…!” Inkling groaned.

Tweak quickly took the dice and rolled.

“We choose to attack with monkeys!!” she shouted. It rolled to a nine, Shellington and Inkling looking at each other.

“The Marine Match take nine damage!”

“We choose to attack with monkeys!” Peso also cheered.

“Oh, this seems hardly fair now…!” Shellington stuttered. Peso rolled the dice and got a twelve. Barnacles looked at the open mouthed otter and dumbo octopus, him shrugging.

“Marine Match are defeated.”

“Noooo!” Shellington yelled out. “Ah well… good team effort, Inkling!”

“And to you, Shellington…!” Professor Inkling shook his paw, wrapping his tentacle around it.

“The treasure is up for grabs…!” Barnacles proclaimed. "Everyone roll, except Shellington and Inkling.” They both shrugged, eating after all of that excitement. “Whoever gets the highest number… gets the treasure.”

“Me first!!!” Kwazii yelled, grabbing the cubes and tossing them haphazardly. They landed on five. “Haha, beat that, me hearties!”

Tweak took the challenge and rolled it, but got four. Barnacles rolled after, getting seven and Dashi getting six. Peso took the dice… but gave it to Tunip.

“I choose Tunip to roll for both of us…!” he smiled. Tunip chirped excitedly and rolled. They all watched the dice flail on its corners and sides… and land both sixes. Peso screamed in delight as Barnacles proudly announced.

“Team Small but Fierce wins the game!!!”

They all cheered and clapped, Barnacles chuckling and looking at the time. “Oh wow…! It’s near midnight!”

“It… it is?” Shellington checked before following with a yawn.

“Well, time passes by with fun…!” Tweak chuckled, stretching.

“Well, let’s clean up and then let’s head to bed. Congratulations, Peso and Tunip…!”

And so, everyone began to clean up, putting away the table and mats, Shellington and Tunip offering the rest of the snacks to the vegimals and everyone went to their rooms, but not before Kwazii turned to Barnacles.

“We’ll get ‘em next time, cap!” he pumped his fist. The captain chuckled with a yawn.

“Perhaps, Kwazii, perhaps,” he smiled. “But… maybe less canons and tickling, hm?”

“I’ll think about it.”

He left, the captain laughing and turning off the lights and heading to bed. There may have been no critters to save… but they sure did have an adventure.

@fading-bisexual-queen-milkshake

[alexanderlightweight]

the catastrophe of success

ao3 link

inspired by this  <a href="https://thatpersonyouknowthatperson.tumblr.com/post/188513064588/lullychi-everyone-whos-been-talking-to-me-knows" rel="nofollow">art post</a> 

“Did you hear about Magnus Bane?”  Izzy asked gleefully, her eyes gleaming with the delight of some new gossip and Alec sighed.  Mournfully looked at paperwork and wishing he’d remembered to lock his office before settling down at his desk.

“I’ve told you to knock,” he reminded his sister gently and she only laughed, sitting on his desk and he had to move fast to rescue the book she nearly pushed off.  “Isabelle!” He said sharply, cutting her off before she began her tirade, “I’ve told you to knock .  It was not a suggestion.”  He stayed firm, determined not to be moved by her pout and finally he won, she winced a little as he pointedly looked at his desk and the mess she’d made of it.  

“Right, sorry hermano,” she said and stood up shuffling his things about as if that would help, “but have you heard about it?  The High Warlock of Brooklyn?”  

Alec sighed, even when reprimanded his sister wouldn’t be deterred and he shook his head, unwillingly fond of her spunk.  “No Izzy, I haven’t heard anything new about Mr. Bane.”  

“Alec really?”  Izzy despaired, “we need to get you out of this office more!  You can only do so much from behind a desk, you need to interact with people more.”  Alec snorted and moved his paperwork so that it thudded loudly. The work he had to do was the amount after he had delegated, “right okay, well Magnus Bane.  He’s pretty much the most eligible bachelor in the downworld. Handsome, rich, smart and powerful but he won’t seriously date anyone, hasn’t in over a century!  Apparently even one of the Seelie princes tried to woo him and he refused.”  

Alec, who currently had a stack of marriage proposals waiting to be burned, sympathized with the man.  “Okay, so he’s a catch?” He asked, unsure where she was going with the story.

“He’s the catch.”  She said and grinned, “but I guess he got tired of it because he has a cat and he put a key on it’s neck, whoever can get the key and use it to enter past the wards of his loft, he’ll date.  Maybe not forever, but at least he’ll give them a chance.” Izzy finished, excited and apparently completely enraptured by this new bit of news and Alec, he was dumbfounded.

“That’s actually brilliant.”  Alec muttered quietly, “I should get a cat.  Thanks Iz.”

“What?  Alec no, I was just catching you up on the story.  In case it came up at your next cabinet meeting, I know you were planning on inviting him.”  Izzy laughed but it was gentle and fond and he knew she meant well.

“He’s declined coming,” Alec admitted, “or well, close enough.  I’ve been trying to get a meeting with him but unable to. I’m actually headed there sometime this week to talk to him in person.”  Izzy clapped her hands on his desk in glee and he glared, “no Iz, I’m not going to tell you if I see a cat, key or not.”  

She laughed, blowing him a kiss as she left his office and Alec watched to make sure she shut the door before sighing and risking a glance at all the messages from Idris’ most eligible bachelorettes... dammit but he really wanted a cat now.

-

“Are you Magnus’ cat?”  Alec asked the small feline on the landing and it looked at him warily, paw raised in the air, “here, let me help.”  He offered and before he or the cat quite knew what he was doing, he’d picked up the animal and set it on his shoulder, “I have to go up there anyway, I’ll take you with me.”  He explained, unsure why he was telling all of this to a cat, but honestly, it was the best conversation he’d had all week. “You must be pretty tired, Izzy- she’s my sister, said that everyone is all excited about catching you.”  He rolled his eyes and then laughed a little when whiskers tickled his jaw, “I wonder what your name is.” 

There was a meow, as if in response and Alec chuckled again, “here we go, think Mr. Bane is home?” He asked the cat, knocking on the door and waiting.  

He didn’t expect an immediate reply but after a few minutes and several more attempts at knocking with no response, he sighed and stepped back.  “A message than,” he muttered to his only audience and leaned back against the wall as he penned a note and sent it with his stele. It left, only to bounce back immediately and nearly smack the cat in the face, it yowled, claws digging harshly into Alec’s shoulders and he smacked the offending letter away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he shushed and slid to the ground, letting the cat jump into his arms and then lowering it so it could curl onto his lap.  He patted gently at its face, trying to check for any burns, “okay, I think you’re okay.” He sighed in relief and continued to scratch at the cat’s fur, “sorry about that.  I didn’t even think about if he had wards up, you’re okay though.”  

The cat meowed as if in agreement and then froze, wide-eyed and Alec realized why.  A low clinking noise had rung out and against his hand, resting on his family ring was a small metal key.  Without thinking he caught it, rubbing it between his fingers curiously before he realized what it was, “oh!  Iz told me about this, well.” Here he gave the suddenly wary cat a smile, “I don’t think Mr. Bane intended for people to use it to enter his home just for a meeting, let me fix that, okay?”  He dropped the key but followed the metal of the collar, making sure it was tight enough and then trailing his finger down the bewildered cat’s face to bop it’s nose.

“You need to be careful,” he told the cat sternly, “someone could hurt you to try and get that.  I’m sure you’re just as important to Mr. Bane as his heart, so maybe work on hissing at people.” The cat meowed, an adorable little sound and Alec grinned, happy when it head-butted his chest, “I wish I had a cat like you.”  He admitted, “or one similar. It’s a brilliant idea, except all my stupid suitors are in Idris, or whatever it is you call the equivalent of females wanting to marry you.” Alec huffed and shook his head, “I don’t want to marry any of them.  Even if I did want to marry, it wouldn’t be a woman and that’s all that’s asking.” He realized what he’d said and looked down at the cat who was watching him calmly but whose eyes widened in response to his own panic. “I know you’re a cat,” he said softly, “but maybe don’t tell anyone that bit, okay?”  

It took a moment but finally the cat meowed and nuzzled his face, causing Alec to laugh and catch the small thing in a gentle embrace.  “Thanks,” he said and pressed a kiss to the velvety soft top of the cat’s brow, “you’re a good kitty.”

When he finally gave up on meeting the infamous Magnus Bane, it was to the cat’s dismay and he nearly tripped down the stairs trying to get it to stop weaving between his ankles or climbing up his calves. 

“I’ll be back,” he promised, “not now but I’ll be by again.”  He gave it one last chin scritch before leaving and his farewell was a reedy, mournful little yowl that almost instantly cut itself off.  He may have only had the company of a cat, but Alec felt better than he had in months and grinned the entire walk home, at least until he caught sight of the Institute and his customary glower slid into place.  

-

He received a fire message that night from Magnus Bane and after some confusion let out a low laugh of relief, maybe the cabinet was finally starting to take him seriously.

When he finally did meet the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he lost his breath.  

Magnus was, Magnus was gorgeous .  Utterly breathtaking and Alec nearly walked into the doorframe from surprise.  He was also magnanimous and far more welcoming than Alec had been led to believe he would be; immediately ushering Alec in, offering the use of his first name and making him a drink.  Alec hadn’t protested out of sheer bewilderment and the purpose of his meeting was almost forgotten in the mix of all the hospitality when he heard a meow. It was a tiny sound and if Alec hadn’t known about Magnus’ cat, he probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it.

“Oh, your cat!”  He exclaimed and couldn’t help the grin that formed on his face as he noticed the cat outside on Magnus’ balcony door, “I met him last time, when I stopped by.”  He explained, hoping Magnus wouldn’t think him one of his many stalkers, “he was a very good host. Can I say hi to him?”  

Magnus’ looked more than a little shocked but then he smiled tightly and waved his hand, opening the door and letting the cat in.  It didn’t come right to Alec and he wasn’t expecting it too, but he did drop to his knees, hoping the cat would remember him enough.  It took a few minutes and Alec probably should have been more professional but the two drinks he’d had made him bold and he cooed happily when the cat finally came over and pressed against his palm.  “Hello sweetheart.” He murmured, “what a good cat you are. Can I pick you up again?”  

Alec wasn’t really sure why Magnus looked so shocked when he stood up with the cat, “uh, does he normally not like people?”  He asked, a little confused as the animal purred happily in his arms and Magnus laughed almost hysterically as he summoned a drink.

“I don’t know,�� Magnus finally said, “I have a variety of strays that I take care of.  He’s never seemed particularly interested in people or coming inside before,” he gave the cat a stern look as he spoke.

“Oh, he was very friendly when I met him the other day.”

“Of course he was.”  Magnus muttered and took a long sip of his drink, “dirty little traitors, all of them.” 

Alec looked from the cat in his lap to the balcony and suddenly grinned.  It was probably far too intimate a question to ask but between the buzz of alcohol and the weight of a warm cat, he felt as though he had courage in spades.  “Magnus, do you have a clowder of cats?”

“I beg your pardon,” Magnus choked, “a what?”

“Sorry, a group of cats.  Do you have a group of cats that are messing with everyone who wants to go out with you?”  Alec explained and waited eagerly for the answer, curious as to just how many cats Magnus might have.

“Alive for centuries and I’m still dumbfounded by the nonsense people come up with.”  Magnus muttered quietly and then he sighed, a hesitant, almost shy smile on his face. “Yes Alexander, you’re correct actually.  Honestly, the entire thing is ridiculous, as if I would ever entrust my happiness and commitment to a key and a domesticated animal alone, however the rumor is working well enough to deter unwanted admirers and us immortals can always do with a fresh piece of gossip.  Undoubtedly this one will go into legend and become grossly exaggerated by next year, let alone a century from now.”

Alec absorbed that and hummed thoughtfully, there was no collar on the cat this time and it licked at his hand, raspy tongue tickling his skin.  “So the key is a red herring?”  

“It’s not about what the key opens but what getting the key implies.”  Magnus confided, “and more about metaphors and less about actual keys. Even if it didn’t have to do with subjecting myself to some random victors company, my home has far too many valuables for me to just let actual keys go scurrying about.”  

“That makes sense.”  Alec said and then grinned, lifting his own drink which only had a few sips left, Magnus refilled it with a wink and Alec fought back a blush.  “To uh-” he paused then, unsure what to toast and Magnus grinned at him, all sly and smooth and Alec felt his mouth go dry.

“To us,” Magnus suggested and Alec nodded quickly, hiding a secret smile of delight in his drink as they toasted.

-

It was a little while before he saw the cat again.  He still didn’t know it’s name but he was pretty sure it was the same one.  He hadn’t meant to stop by Magnus’ but one of the warlock’s buttons had fallen off his jacket at the cabinet meeting and Alec wanted to return it.  He could have simply messaged Magnus, now that he had the man’s number but he knew that Magnus didn’t like the Institute, and had decided to take it there himself.  

Alec resoulely did not think about how he knew the button belonged to Magnus, or the fact that he’d admired the other’s intricate jacket and how it hugged his muscles for far too long.

He knocked on the door to no avail and while disappointed, he decided to go around and climb up to the balcony.  As much as he would have liked to see Magnus, he didn’t want the trip to be in complete vain and he could leave a note.  It was a quick climb, more of a jump with his runes activated and when he landed it was to a symphony of startled yowls.

“Whoa,” Alec said softly and he held a hand out in apology, “sorry about that.”  

Magnus hadn’t been kidding about all of his cats, there were at least half a dozen that he didn’t recognize and they were all upset, backs arched and hissing as he carefully made his way to the little table Magnus had out there.  Alec quickly scribbled a note and placed it along with the button on the table, it seemed a little foolish now that he’d done it but he resigned himself to suffering through the minor embarrassment.

Next to him, a calico cat was curiously sniffing his boots and then it meowed, pawing at his leg.  Alec grinned, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a moment so he did, petting the cat’s soft fur. Soon enough he was surrounded by cats, all of them purring and meowing for his attention so loudly that he never noticed the click of the balcony doors or the dark black cat that walked out.

He did however notice when the cat yowled, a loud almost violent shriek and then it hissed, startling the other cats away until it was the only one near Alec.  It gave a smug little meow and then tossed it’s head back to stare at him with pleased, luminous eyes.

“Hello you,” Alec said fondly, “you remember me this time then?”  The cat meowed as if in answer and pawed his leg, waiting for his arm to lower before hopping up and curling primly on his lap.  “You’re my favorite,” Alec whispered, a little secret between the two of them as he scratched under the cat’s chin. It chirped, purring and stretching and he paused, finger curling into a familiar metal collar.  

“I know he said they were metaphorical,” Alec mused aloud, “but you’re the only one with an actual collar and key.  Are you Magnus’ favorite as well?” The cat meowed and nudged his hand and Alec gave a little sigh, sliding his fingers free so he could smooth down the cat’s fur, “he’s my favorite too.”  He admitted, “so you should be careful with that key okay? I know it’s just a metaphor but he deserves happiness.” The cat meowed, nuzzling against his chest and Alec relaxed, content to waste an hour enjoying the sunlight and kitten cuddles, if Magnus did come home, well he still had the button as an excuse.  

-

“Payment, procured in full along with the thanks of the New York Institute, Mr. Bane.”  Alec said and he placed what were once confiscated tomes of old magic and a small bag of gems onto Magnus’ coffee table, “a pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Well, you know I have the utmost respect for the Head of the Institute, Mr. Lightwood.”  Magnus practically purred and in the firelight of his loft, his eyes almost glinted gold, “now that business is seen to, on to pleasure?”  He held aloft a glass of wine and Alec nodded with a soft grin, happy to be invited to stay and eager to spend more time with Magnus.

“Thank you,” he said and took the glass, trying not to shiver as their fingers brushed.  The first sip of wine was heady, rich and deep and the color of it matched Magnus’ shirt.  A shirt that was unbuttoned nearly halfway and he wore several necklaces, one with skulls and another with a simple delicate silver key that gleamed when he moved.

“I’m glad you came by,” Magnus told him earnestly, “and not just because you paid your bill.”  

Alec fumbled with something to say to that, his tongue heavy with the weight of so many unspoken thoughts and he was rescued by a meow and the grating noise of claws on glass.  

He opened the balcony without a thought and suddenly he had a meowing cat at his feet, excitedly pawing at his shins.  He thought it was the same cat he normally petted, though at the moment this one lacked a collar and it definitely was the one he’d snuck all those treats to the last time he was here.  

“Hello sweetheart,” he cooed and then his ears turned red as he realized Magnus was watching him.  He straightened and sipped his wine, darting a quick look at Magnus’ through his lashes only the find him watching Alec, as though entranced.  

“They really are quite taken with you,” Magnus finally said and while there wasn’t a hint of accusation, Alec hurried to explain.

“They’re sweet, all of them really.  I like them.”  

“I’m glad.”  Magnus said and then gestured to the couch, “a seat perhaps?  You’ve been hard at work and you are off the clock.”

Alec nodded, deciding not to mention that as a shadowhunter, he was never actually off the clock.  Magnus sat on the other side of the couch, turning to face him and crossing one leg over the other and Alec nearly broke his wine glass with how hard he clenched it.  “Thanks for helping us on such short notice,” he said, “I know you’re busy but I- well, the Institute appreciates it.”

“The Institute merely paid me for my services.”  Magnus chided gently, “I answered because you called, Alexander.”

Alec licked his lips, tasting the earthiness of his wine and he wondered if Magnus’ stained lips held a similar flavor.  A sharp prick to his leg jolted him from the dangerous path that thought led to and the next thing he knew, he had a very smug cat in his lap.  It purred happily as it circled across his lap, kneading his thighs before settling contentedly. He chuckled, resting one hand on it’s head and petting it as it batted his wrist and purred.  

When he looked up, Magnus was watching him with narrowed eyes, the hint of a glower on his face.  

“Did I do something wrong?”  He asked, unused to Magnus glaring at him so openly.  

“No such thing, darling.”  Magnus assured him, “they’re simply not normally allowed in the house and they’re definitely not allowed on the furniture.”

“Sorry.”  Alec immediately apologized and he scrambled to set his glass on the coffee table, sinking to the floor next to the couch, cat still cradled gently though it hissed at the disturbance.  He resettled on the floor, leaning against the couch as he spread out his legs and looked up at Magnus who now seemed closer somehow.  

“This okay?”  He asked and he could have sworn that Magnus’ eyes flashed.

“They’re spoiled, ungrateful little terrors who don’t understand how lucky they are,” Magnus said and he sounded almost jealous which was absurd.  “For you though, I’ll allow it.”

-

It was only a week or so later that Alec was back at Magnus’, drinking a pale pink drink and nibbling on bread and oil, while the warlock was in his office on an important phone call.  It was a bit later that he heard rustling and turned to see a cat, his favorite, by the couch. Alec winced and then bit his lip in consideration as the cat happily leapt up next to him and pressed against him, demanding the affection and adoration it deserved.  

“You’re not supposed to be on the furniture.”  Alec whispered and the cat paused from where it had been nuzzling him to blink in near disbelief.  “Come on sweetheart,” he said and picked up the cat, retreating with it to the balcony for undisturbed cuddles.  He dozed off out there, cuddling the darling thing and when Magnus finally woke him, all apologies and a warm, strong hand on his shoulder, the cat was gone.  

-

Alec sighed as he waited on Magnus’ balcony, fall was coming and with it a chill on the wind.  He was wearing a soft warm sweater and he stretched, wondering how long it would be before Magnus came home.  They’d gotten into a sort of pattern, where if Alec stopped by and Magnus’ wasn’t home, he was free to wait on the balcony.  At first, he’d been worried about disrupting Magnus’ wards but the warlock had just laughed, looking at him with fond delight and told him not to worry.

Today was one of those rare days when the balcony was void of cats and Alec drifted in his thoughts until he heard a meow.  It was his favorite of the cats, standing next to him and looking up at him expectantly. With the practice and trust built from hours of cuddling, Alec scooped the cat up and buried his face into it’s scruff, peppering kisses on it’s soft fur and chuckling when it batted him playfully in return and nosed at his face.  

“I haven’t seen you in a few weeks,” he said and grinned when it purred and kneaded his chest, claws delicately pricking through his sweater and he laughed at the tickle of them.  “I missed you too, baby.” He said and the cat gave a little chirp of delight, headbutting his chin and then blinking at him in slow delight.  

“Here we go,” he said and sat on the small loveseat outside.  Magnus allowed the cats on the outdoor furniture and Alec took advantage of that small fact, he stroked his companion delicately and was rewarded with it refusing to leave his lap.  Under his fingers the cool metal of a band protecting a key taunted him, reminding him that surely it wouldn’t hurt to use it, Magnus always let him in after all. He ignored the temptation and scratched under the metal instead, chuckling when the cat appreciatively pushed it’s head back, practically shoving the key into his fingers.  He didn’t know it’s name, Magnus refused to name them and Alec was happy to call them a variety of pet names in lieu of an actual address.  

At some point, the sun began to set and Alec wilted a bit.  As much as he adored playing with the cats, Magnus had yet to come home and soon it would be time for him to head back to the Institute.  

“Looks like I’ll need to head out soon,” he said softly and the cat on his chest meowed, grumpily kneading his collarbone in retribution for the disturbance.  “It’s getting late and I have teams to meet with.” Alec lowered his voice, “Idris sent me a bunch of green idiots who are going to get themselves killed if I don’t kick some sense into them.  Which means personally dividing the teams that go out, if Jace somehow ends up in charge of one, they’ll all get injured and come crying to me.”  

The cat’s whiskers twitched and Alec picked it up as he rose, tucking the cat to his chest for just a moment longer as he looked out at the colors blossoming in the wake of the setting sun.  

“I wish Magnus had been here.”  He admitted and stretched, feeling out which of his runes were still activated, “would have been nice to see this with him.”  He set the cat down with a last kiss and ignored it’s startled, sad little meow. It followed after him, making demanding little chirps the entire time and petulantly tangling it’s claws in the hem of his pants.  “See you later,” Alec promised and then he jumped, ignoring the angry yowl as he landed gracefully. He looked up to wave goodbye and for a moment he swore he saw a shadow over the balcony but when he blinked it was gone.  The trip back to the Institute was dull and his heart was lonely but even though he hadn’t seen Magnus, even just being near his home left Alec feeling a little happier.

-

The next few weeks were filled with snatches of time where he stole away to meet with Magnus.  It would only be a matter of time before someone noticed and called him out, but he hoarded the precious moments for now.  Magnus was... magical and while it hurt to know that the man had closed off his heart and wasn’t looking for love or a relationship, Alec still found himself falling bittersweetly in love with the warlock.  

He was climbing up to Magnus’ balcony in what seemed to be a familiar path for him of late.  He’d just been over for dinner the night before but had to leave early and Magnus had told him to come over the next day, asking him to just come to the balcony when he could.

Alec had agreed instantly, would have promised anything to spend more time with Magnus and he found himself looking over New York with a fond, wistful gaze.  The wind picked up, a brisk and steady blow that caused him to shiver and he almost missed the meow. He turned, startled to see the balcony doors wide open and the cat there, shiny black fur and an impatiently twitching tail as it stared him down.

“You inviting me inside?”  Alec asked, laughing as the cat meowed and he held out his hand, surprised when it refused to move. 

A little worried now, he stood and walked over to it, kneeling next to it and reaching out to pet it and it meowed at him, nudging his fingers and then backing up.  Hesitant, he followed and then sat next to it, “hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, picking up the cat and holding it to his chest.  

It looked at him intently, small paws on his chest and eyes fixated on him and Alec couldn’t help but grin, “you’re cute.”

There was a noise that almost sounded like hysterical exasperation and then Alec was on his back, blinking in confusion as the cat disappeared and Magnus took it’s place, pinning him to the floor and holding him down with hands that were much bigger and stronger than paws. 

“You,” Magnus said and Alec could barely breath as he looked up into gorgeous, glowing gold eyes, “are a ridiculous man, Alexander.” 

“What?”  Alec managed to ask and he licked his lips, breath hitching when Magnus eyed deliberately followed the motion.

“I have been offering you that stupid key for months now!”

“You said it was a metaphor!”  Alec protested, “you said all that cryptic stuff about the key not being a key!”

“I was being coy,” Magnus said and he let out a gentle, helpless laugh as he pressed his brow to Alec’s.  “Alexander, I already let you into my heart, you’ve had the real key all along, you just never took it.”

Alec just breathed for a moment, heart pounding desperately in his chest and brow against Magnus’ and he knew that if this was a dream he wouldn’t survive it.  

“You- you never said anything.”

“Clearly you’ve never dated before.”  Magnus muttered and Alec made a wounded noise at the low-blow, “Alexander, darling- we’ve been dating for weeks now.  Unofficially of course but well, once we clear all of this up, I’d say it counts.” 

Alec took time to think back over the last few months and bit back a strangled noise of realization, “oh fuck.”  He muttered and ignored Magnus’ chuckle at his language. “This whole time I thought you were unavailable but you were just waiting for me to catch up.”

“Yes well, if anything you’ve been the one playing hard to get and as much as I do love a challenge, I think I’m ready to claim my prize for winning.”  Magnus grinned down at him all coiled strength and raw power and around his neck dangled that one, delicate necklace with a silver key.  

Without thinking, Alec reached up one hand to touch it and the feel of the cool metal beneath his skin gave him a burst of courage.  Leaning forward he pulled, cutting off Magnus’ next words with a tug to the necklace and it was a rough kiss, full of surprise and joy and bumped noses but it was their kiss.  Magnus made a sound of delight against his lips and kissed him back with delicious fervor, one hand coming up around his to press Alec’s hand -necklace and all- against his chest and the other tangling with his hair. 

It was the start of something beautiful.

When Alec awoke the next morning, a warm firm body curled around his, an arm wrapped around his waist and Magnus’ breath tickling the fine hairs at the back of his neck, he wore nothing but golden sheets and a silver key around his neck.  The sunrise was a soft peach that snuck in with soft lines and he was about to drift back to sleep with realization hit and he aimed a little kick back towards Magnus’ shin.

“Ale’xand’r?”  Magnus asked, voice muffled by his lips against Alec’s skin and Alec determinedly ignored the shiver that it elicited.  

“You owe me so much cuddling.”  He said and against him Magnus shook with soft, tired laughter, “I spent hours petting you Magnus, literal hours!”  

A warm, strong hand ghosted over his side and settled on his hip, “don’t worry, Alexander.  I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”  

[emperorsfoot]

Inconvenient Arrangements chapter 4. 

Hordak and Entrapta continue to be the least romantic couple in the universe. 

Meanwhile, we get another flashback of Keldor and he’s all like

...

The royal gardens of Eternos were very different from the Imperial gardens on Horde World. While the gardens of the Imperial palace were filled with bushes and grasses from all over the universe, carefully tended, tripped and shaped to be aesthetically pleasing, and impermanent and replaced after every bad storm, the gardens of Eternos looked almost wild. Tall trees with thick trunks and dense branches, ground vines climbing out of the beds and up the walls, flowers of every variety growing wherever they pleased as if just allowed to take root wherever the wind blew their seeds. Hec-Tor was not used to something that was supposed to be part of a royal property looking so… unplanned.

The Prince sneezed, wondering if he was allergic to something in the gardens and if an epinephrine would react adversely with his medications.

Next to him, Keldor yawned. Board. His intended was board of his company. Not that Hec-Tor found the other Prince particularly riveting either. They had little in common and little to talk about aside from their pending nuptials and one could not fill an entire afternoon of contract mandated bonding discussing how much you hated said contract forcing you to bond. Keldor looked behind them at their escorts. The robotic diplomat Dylamug, and a Gar warrior named Sy-Klone. They both looked about as board and uninterested as Hec-Tor and Keldor felt.

Noting just how disinterested their chaperones were, Kedor grabbed Hec-Tor by the hand and pulled him off the grass-grown gravel path.

“Wha-!?” Hec-Tor was about to demand an explanation for the sudden action, but Keldor placed a blue hand over his mouth.

“Shh!” He hissed, ebony hair falling in front of one pointed ear. “Follow me.”

Keldor began to climb up a vine-entangled tree with low-hanging branches and dense leaves to hide them from view. But when he saw that Hec-Tor was not immediately following him, he grabbed the other man’s hand and practically had to drag the Horde Prince up. They sat on a one of the boughs, Keldor leaning around the trunk to make sure their escorts were not suspicious. As far as he could tell, they were laughing at the idea that Keldor had dragged Hec-Tor off for a bout of pre-nuptial… affection.

“What are we doing up here?” Demanded the Imperial Prince.

“Don’t you wanna get outta here?” Keldor asked.

Well, actually, yes. Hec-Tor did want to get off of Eternia and away from this arrangement. But Brother really wanted Eternia for some reason and to get it, Hec-Tor had to marry Keldor. So he could not leave. A fact he could not believe he had to remind his fiancé of . “What we want is immaterial in this matter.”

Keldor only rolled his dark eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind his delicately pointed ear. “Wow. They’re got you really well trained.”

“I beg your par-!” Was insulted, but the offense quickly turned to dismay as Keldor pushed him backwards and Hec-Tor found himself suddenly falling.

The sound he made was not Princely or dignified.

Eyes wide, talons clawing at –a wall. What he thought was a bush or part of a hedge maze, was in fact a vine-covered wall, and he was falling down the outside of it. Talons cut through leaves or scraped over exposed patches of stone, until he was able to finally gain purchase on a vine strong enough to hold him. Hec-Tor clung to the wall as if it were the only solid thing in existence.

Keldor slid down next to him, but more controlled. “First time ditching your keepers?”

“What have you done!?” Hec-Tor demanded.

“I told you. We’re getting out.” His intended scoffed as if this should have been obvious. “Don’t tell me you were actually having fun on our ‘quiet and leisurely stroll through the gardens’. He slid down the vines a fraction of a meter, expecting Hec-Tor to follow him. “C’mon. I’ll show you the real Eternia!”

Hec-Tor looked up at the wall, gauging the distance he’d already fallen. He could climb that easily. Get back inside the castle, go to Horde Prime and made his brother see that this Prince Keldor of Eternia was not a suitable partner for a member of the Imperial family. But after he pulled himself up a little short of a meter, he began to feel woozy, the warning of an on-coming faiting spell, and decided that he would rather be much, much closer to the ground. Hec-Tor followed Keldor’s example and used the vines to slide down the wall.

Their boots touched ground in a narrow alley behind the castle. It stank of city waste and there were vermin skittering over the stones. Hec-Tor leaned against the wall and breathed in the noxious air, hoping the dizziness would pass without him losing consciousness in the middle of a filthy ally.

“You having a panic attack or something?” Keldor asked.

Hec-Tor cast a sideways glare at him. Crimson eyes glowing in the dim ally.

Keldor did not seem the least bit impressed. Apparently, Hec-Tor was not very intimidating when he looked –and felt- like he was about to pass out. Keldor grabbed his hand again. “C’mon. There’s a bar I like down this way.”

Hec-Tor could not drink alcohol. It reacted badly with his medications. But he also could not pull away when Keldor dragged him down the ally and around a corner.

They came out on a semi-crowded street full of a diverse variety of Eternian races and alien visitors. It was more people than Hec-Tor had ever been around at one time and he suddenly felt inexplicably anxious. He held tighter to Keldor’s hand and closed the distance between them, almost pressing his whole body against the other man’s side.

“You afraid of getting lost or something?” He teased.

“I am unused to… this.” All of this. Being in a crowded street. People not automatically making space for him and giving him a wide birth out of respect. Defying protocol, evading their chaperones, and stealing out of castle grounds. All of it. Hec-Tor was unused to all of it. What kinds of things did they teach their Princes on Eternia for Keldor to even know how to do this!? Never mind actually do it.

The other man only laughed. Keldor seemed to do a lot of laughing at him and Hec-Tor was concerned by the fact that he did not hate it. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

He pulled Hec-Tor into a dimply lit tavern that stank of stale grain, alcohol, and the funk of perspiration from a vide and diverse variety of organisms. Hec-Tor had to cover his nasal cavity with his hand. It was rank and offensive to smell. How anyone could drink anything from this place was a mystery to him.

Keldor dragged them both right up to the bar, laid two silver coins on the counter, and grinned at the bartender when she asked how old they were. “Old enough to be married.”

(The age of consent on Eternia was younger than the legal drinking age.)

The bartender continued to glare at them. So Keldor slowly placed a gold coin on the table along side the silver. The silver coins were placed in the bar’s till, the gold coin disappeared into her pocket, and two tankards of some frothy grain-alcohol replaced them on the counter. “Just don’t make any trouble.”

Keldor gave a mock gasp. “Trouble? Me? Well, I never-!”

The bartender rolled her eyes again. “I know who you are, and I have Man-at-Arms on speed dial.”

Another gold coin was placed on the bar counter.

“But silly me forgot to charge my com last night.”

Grinning, Keldor pressed one frothing tankard into Hec-Tor’s hands and led him to a table in the middle of the room.

Hec-Tor sniffed the drink cautiously. “I cannot drink this.”

“Sure you can!” Keldor insisted. “Just put it in your mouth and swallow.”

“I mean, it will make me very, very ill.” Hec-Tor clarified.

“Yeah…” Agreed the other man. “But you’ll have a lot of fun first!”

Setting his tankard down on the table, Hec-Tor pushed it away from himself. “I would like to go back to the castle now.”

Keldor was already chugging his drink. He had a froth mustache when he lowered the tankard. “Aw, but we only just got here! I haven’t even gotten into a bar fight yet.”

Hec-Tor raised a baled brow at him. Princes were not supposed to slink down narrow allies, or get into bar fights with common drunkards. He opened his mouth to remind Keldor of this fact, and also made a mental note to inform Brother of this little escapade as evidence that the engagement should be called off and the alliance with Eternia sealed some other way.

But he didn’t get the chance to.

At that exact moment, a large Qadian came up to their table. A dark scowl on his feline face, arms crossed over his chest with disproval. “You, Gar,” he hissed, “you’re at my table.”

“Never mind.” Keldor smirked at Hec-Tor, “I’m right on schedule.” He turned around to face the cat-like alien –although, to Keldor he wouldn’t be an alien, Qadians were native to Eternia- “I am? I’m so sorry, I had no idea this was your table, Mr. Torg Sisters Wholesale Furniture Warehouse! That is your name, I assume, as it’s the only name written on it.”

The Qadian’s whiskers twitched asymmetrically. “You can’t sit here, Gar.”

“I can’t?” He gasped, as if truly and honestly shocked. He looked down at his chair. “By the Goddess! It must be a miracle. Look! I’m sitting! Here!”

Losing patience quickly, the Qadian grabbed Keldor by one of the belts crossed over his chest. “Listen, you Blue Bastard, we don’t want your kind here!”

Hec-Tor shot to his feet. No one grabbed a Prince like that! At least, in the Empire, no one would dare!

“What kind is that?” Keldor asked, not appearing to be intimidated by the hostile feline. “Gar, young people, or someone who can hold his liquor probably better than you.”

“Let him go.” Hec-Tor commanded, putting all the regal command of his station into the words. For half a second, to his own ears, he sounded just like Brother. A Horde Prime. Commanding, and strong. He stood up. Then immediately felt the same faintness from a few minutes ago when Keldor pushed him over the castle wall. But he tried to ignore it.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Scoffed the Qadian, unimpressed.

Not many people outside of Horde World actually knew what members of the Imperial Family looked like. They were so many generations removed from the original Horde Prime, and each suffered physical defects that sometimes altered their appearance, that none of them looked like the clones of the Horde military.

“I am a-“

“This is my fiancé, uh… Hordak!” Keldor cut him off before Hec-Tor could announce that he was a Prince of the Horde Empire and that Keldor was Prince Keldor First Born to the House of Miro. Apparently, that would spoil his fun. “Hordak, sweetie, say ‘hi’ to the nice kitty.”

Hec-Tor frowned.

“Are you making fun of me!” Demanded the Qadian. He did not appreciate being called a ‘kitty’, anymore than Keldor appreciated being called a ‘blue bastard’.

Keldor only smirked. “I’m usually making fun of everyone.”

With a hiss and a snarl, the Qadian threw Keldor at the table.

He caught himself on its edge and used it for balance while he ducked a fast punch from the Qadian.

Hec-Tor, acting more on impulse rather than any conscious strategy, picked up the whole table and threw it at the Qadian. The feline alien had to jump to dodge the projectile furniture. His fur all puffed out, he hissed again.

But the action brought on another wave of dizziness. The physical exertion just a little too much for him. Hec-Tor’s vison blurred as his body did what it had been threatening to do almost all day. He passed out.

He didn’t get to see the rest of the fight. He wasn’t sure what happened, exactly. But when he came to again, he was slung over Keldor’s back like a sack, and the other man was carrying him down the same ally they’d first dropped down into from the castle wall. Hec-Tor groaned.

“You’re awake.” Keldor put him down. He had a swollen lip and a bruise on the side of his face, but nothing was bleeding and all his teeth were still there. “Wasn’t that fun!”

“We got into a fight!” Hec-Tor was not fully recovered yet and getting worked up was not what he needed right now, but this Prince Keldor was… wild. He examined himself for injuries. Apart from the familiar soreness that came from laying on a hard floor, there were none. They must have ignored him once he passed out.

“Fighting is fun.”

“Fighting is for clones.” Hec-Tor corrected. He massaged the sides of his head. His vision was still a little blurry. “Why are you even getting into fights anyway? You’re not a warrior. I was told you’re a sorcerer!”

Keldor only shrugged. “Two things can be true.”

“I should not have helped you.” Hec-Tor shook his head.

“But I’m glad you did.” Keldor told him. “You’re supposed to be able to depend on your spouse. Married people should help each other.”

…

Contract mandated bonding time with Entrapta was just as much of a whirlwind as his first few months with Keldor, but in a different way. Entrapta did not push him over walls, or drag him to seedy bars in the slums, or get into bar fights with the absolute scum of the planet. Entrapta insisted he take her on a tour of the shieldwall that ran the perimeter of the city.

She wanted to walk the narrow service shafts the maintenance workers used to keep it in working order. She wanted to see the gear housings that lifted and lowered the shield for a storm. She wanted to examine the turbines that collected the storms’ energy. She wanted to watch the generators in action, powering the city with the raw power of the harsh world they lived on.

The interior of the shieldwall was almost as dirty and grungy as the outside. Rust on the exposed pipes, painted signs and safety markings sanded down to the base metal they were painted on, discolored wall panels, dust collecting in the corner where the wall met the floor.

But Entrapta seemed to be having the time of her life.

Wearing those baggy overalls again, looking like any other maintenance worker, several of the regular staff assumed she was an intern or a new-hire before they saw that she was in the company of an Imperial Prince. Hec-Tor had counted five people so far, who had approached Entrapta to ask her where she was assigned. Was she lost? What was she doing at this part of the wall? etc., before they noted Prince Hec-Tor Kur trailing behind her, his spine straight, and arms clasped behind his back. A perfect pillar of Imperial discipline and command. Then the stuttering and near incomprehensible apologies would start tumbling out of their trembling mouths.

Entrapta seemed oblivious to this, however. The moment she was approached by anyone who actually worked there, she would bombard them with questions. How many people per shift did it take to maintain the wall? How many shifts per day? Were they all skilled workers? What was the most common problem that occurred working on the wall? What steps did they take to address these reoccurring problems?

That actually wasn’t that bad. It was about what Hec-Tor was coming to expect from her.

Then she stretched out a tendril of her prehensile hair and lifted herself up onto one of the large pistons that lifted the wall and the shieldwall staff all nearly fainted. Entrapta swung from piston to piston, and between gears, examining the moving parts –that were currently not moving- of the shieldwall. It was actually a little refreshing to know that Entrapta was shocking and uncomfortable to other people as well as him.

Most people, when they visited Horde World and wanted to tour the shieldwall, they wanted to ride hover bikes along the top and see how many laps they could do around the city in a day (the max to date was one and a half). See just how tall it was, how far into the dessert they could see, how small the buildings of the city looked from on top. Or see how many members of their species they could fit standing shoulder-to-shoulder across its width. But all Entrapta wanted to do was measure the cogwheels that could crush and kill her if they suddenly started moving.

She was nothing if not unique. Hec-Tor could give her that. Brother certainly had a talent for finding the most unusual partners possible for him.

Hec-Tor yawned, mouth stretching wide, displaying sharp crimson teeth. It felt like they had spent the whole morning here. He checked the chronometer on the wall. They had spent the whole morning here. It was afternoon now and Hec-Tor would need to take his medications.

“Entrapta.” He called to her.

“Just a second!” She answered. Swinging from one impossibly large piece of machinery to another.

“Princess Entrapta.” He tried again, putting stress on her title in an attempt to remind her that she had duties and responsibilities to attend to and could not spend all her time on leisure pursuits and hobbies.

Swinging on her hair again, she did a seemingly unnecessary mid-air summersault and landed directly in front of him.

Gosh! She was so short! Standing on her feet, without her hair adding any height to her, Entrapta barely came up to Hec-Tor’s sternum.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

“It is time we break for lunch.” He informed her without inflection.

“Oh. I’m not really hungry.” She shrugged with her shoulders and made a dismissive motion with her hair.

Entrapta struck him as the kind of person that –when they were interested in something- would continue to focus their attention on that thing and ignore meals or not notice that they were even hungry at all. That, however, was not an attitude anyone in his family could afford. Every single Kur –including Imp, the most healthy of all of them- relied on medications and supplements, the vast majority of which had to be taken with food. Hec-Tor could not afford to skip a meal, and since they were required to spend time ‘getting to know each other’ before their wedding, she could not afford to skip a meal either. After they were married, she could do, or not do, whatever she wanted. But, for right now, she had to follow his schedule as strictly as he himself did.

“But I am.” Hec-Tor informed her. “We will break for lunch then you may return to your study of the shieldwall.”

“Oh. I’m pretty much done here.” She announced, much to Hec-Tor’s frustration. If she was already done, why did she make it seem like she didn’t want to leave?

Lunch was served on an observation deck atop the wall.

The servants quickly set up a collapsible picnic table, covered it with a table cloth brought from the palace, and laid out the meal that had been prepared ahead of time. Complete with a covered ceramic cup that contained the battery of pills Hec-Tor had to choke down three times a day.

Entrapta seemed to ignore the table setting and the meal, however. Her attention was focused on the view. Finally, a normal thing visitors did when they came to Horde World. Admire the view.

The previous day’s storms had thrown up the sand into many high-peaked dunes. Heat waves could be seen rising off the sides where Horde World’s yellow sun glared down on them, baking the already burnt sienna landscape. Frost could just barely be seen sparking in the dark shadowed side where the suns could not reach. Horde World was a planet of extremes.

“It’s really amazing anything managed to thrive on Horde World at all.” She exclaimed. “I mean, apart from the dragon-roaches and the super-bacteria.” Her gloves were pressed up against the observation glass that enclosed the deck. “What’s the ambient temperature outside right now?”

“Inside the city, or out in the desert?” Asked Hec-Tor.

He selected several of the tiny items of food the kitchen staff had prepared for them. It took eight of them to equal the size of a normal bite of food for him. Why did the kitchen staff make them such tiny food? The morsels were so small, in fact, that he barely had to swallow. With something already on its way to his stomach, Hec-Tor tipped his dose of medications in his mouth and washed them down.

“The city has climate buffers that regulate the temperature, right?” She asked. “That’s how people can walk around without freezing in the shade or getting cooked in the sun. But what’s the rest of the planet like?”

It took him a couple of swallows to completely clear his throat of water and medications. Then another moment to remind his body that it was not choking and did not have to trigger the gag reflex. He took another sip of water just for good measure. “The average daytime temperature in direct sunlight is over 500 degrees Kelvin.” He informed her. “Two-hundred seventy degrees Kelvin in the shade.”

“That’s so wild!” Entrapta did a theatric little twirl, her hair spiraling around her. She flopped down in the empty seat provided for her and popped a morsel of tiny food into her mouth. “Horde World is like one of those planets that doesn’t have any atmospheric layers. Nothing between it and space to buffer the solar radiation or insulate the landscape. But it does have an atmosphere. We’re breathing it right now! And it’s not like the city is under a dome or anything. It’s just dummy harsh outside.”

Reluctant though he was to admit it, Hec-Tor did have to agree that Horde World was unlike any of the other –inhabited- planets he’d been to.

“The planet’s previous owners did irreparable damage to its environment. So much so that they changed the climate to be completely inhospitable to their breed of life.” He grabbed another handful of tiny food portions and shoved them in his mouth, just to be sure there was sufficient food in his stomach with his medications. “What is Etheria like? I am sure it is… mild, compared to Horde World.”

Tapping her chin with a strand of hair, Entrapta thought. “Well… I wouldn’t call it ‘mild’. It’s certainly more diverse than Horde World. But Etheria has got its own extremes. The Northern Reach is a permanently frozen tundra. I guess you could call it an Ice Cap. Then the Crimson Waste is a lot like Horde World, a vast desert, dry, hot, no surface water, it just doesn’t have your temperature extremes.”

“And Dryl?”

“We get a lot of weather in Dryl.” She answered distractedly, picking up two tiny morsels and popping them into her mouth one at a time. Then washing them down with a carbonated sweet drink Hec-Tor refused to taste.

“And what does that mean?” He raised one bald brow, confused.

“Dryl is mostly a temperate zone.” She supplied. “We get all four seasons and all the weather that comes with them. Snow in the winter, rain and storms in the spring, absurd humidity in the summers, thunder and lighting in the autumn, lots, and lots of lighting, I swear, the mountains add extra charge to the atmosphere! –then back to winter snow!”

“That does sound like… a lot of weather.” He agreed, not knowing what else to say.

“I spend most of my time in my lab, but I’m told it can be fun.” Entrapta informed him. “Skiing in the winter, rafting in the spring, camping in the summer, festivals in the fall. I’m not much of an outdoors person, but if you are you might like it!”

“I…” Because of his condition, Hec-Tor preferred not to do anything too strenuous if it could be avoided.

Skiing and rafting sounded absolutely terrible to him. Camping was a word that had different meanings to different people he found. For his family, ‘camping’ was rouging it in a slightly smaller palace or castle with limited servants and fewer amenities. That was not what the word camping meant to the vast majority of other people Hec-Tor met. And fesitvals… Hec-Tor had mixed experiences with festivals. Experiences ranging from ‘we just have to light the brazier, then we can go home’, to ‘I just bought these two pills off some guy, let’s pop ‘em and see what happens’, and everything in between. (Attending festivals with his brother and attending festivals with Keldor were two very different experiences.) The outdoor activities of Dryl did not sound appealing.

“When I am not working I usually spend my free time servicing or improving upon my armor.” An activity that was also spent indoors.

Entrapta instantly perked up. Fuchsia eyes focusing on him with an intensity he was unused to. Showing an unfettered interest in him –not his planet’s technology or adaptations, but him- for the first time. “Oh? Did you design your own armor? Are you an engineer? Robotic designer? May I take a look at your armor to see how you’ve integrated the prosthetic tech into your organic body?”

Her interest was almost too intense for him and Hec-Tor found himself physically leaning away from her. “We manage our own… defects.”

She blinked at him, not fully comprehending. “You mean, you came up with that design to manage your condition all on your own? And maintain it all on your own? No one heled you. Even when you were a child? C’mon. You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t take care of Imp, or Horde Prime doesn’t take care of Prince Zed! Everyone needs help sometimes! And married people should help their spouses.”

[lacheriedesole]

lost town

The announcement echoed loudly from the speaker on the wall. I blinked several times, hazy, unsure of where I am and what is going on. I realised that the train have stopped moving. The wagon that I’m in was nearly empty, hushed, except for an elderly couple walking out toward the left exit door. I gathered my conscience, relieved that I travel light―with only a small backpack―for a week I’m going to spend in this town. No, a town is an overstatement. This small region consists of a single area wide enough for a large family of three or four generations to live nearby.

I took out the crumpled map from the front compartment of the backpack, and studied it one more time. I have been memorising the map days before my travel, but I suggest a quick peek for a final shot won’t be much of a nuisance. This town―it will be much easier if I dress this area with the term―is so small and the borders blurry, the digital map on smartphones won’t be much of a help. Besides, the old map has scribbles and notes on it, a handiwork of my dad who have spent couple times here in his youth. I had no idea why, of all the interesting places and spots to choose for holidays, he chose this godforsaken spot.

The station is quiet and lifeless. Apparently, apart from the elderly couple, I was the only passenger that took off here. This is the last station before the train’s final journey, that explains why the wagon was deserted. There was no station workers, no taxi drivers, no merchants, nothing. The station looks exactly like an empty house that the train happened to stumble to drop off three lost passengers. Except that I am the only one who’s lost.

I recall the pathway to Mister Halcyon’s house, my supposed destination, and confidently marched on. Though the roads were perfectly tranquil, I do not want anyone to notice that I had never been here before and most likely to get lost. Mr. Halcyon is my dad’s senior of his earlier spiritual commune. They were really close, dad admitted that he looks up to Mr. Halcyon a lot, especially since a near-death occurrence that binds them close. Dad sees him as his saviour, long lost brother, almost like his own blood family. That must be why dad spent a lot of time here. This place must held a special meaning for him.

I was pretty sure I traced the right path, when I realised that each and every houses I passed are devoid of sound. It was a perfect silence, the one so loud that even my heartbeats sounded like an uproar. There were movements, of course, but aside from the blowing wind and swaying trees, there were no noticeable human sounds. No hustle bustle of everyday routine, no cries and screams of children, not even a whisper. Even the stinging sun has its own sound here. Well this is weird, I thought. I think I should wait until I get there, to his house, then I can make a judgement. I should hold.

Then I found his house. A serene-looking, medium house with subtle earth colour. Even the materials are natural, mostly woods and rough stones, unpolished. A very humble home. The house has no fence, just like any other houses in the town. The borders are immaculately trimmed berry bushes, or patches of hydrangea. This town sure is peaceful, huh? The people are definitely not concerned of thieves. I stepped on carefully set stones atop the lawn, which I assumed the only place I could set my feet on to. I knocked the door, the brass number plate shows 33 and a small carving reads HALCYON. 

I waited for a response, but there was none. I knocked again, louder this time, and I felt like a total idiot. My knocks sounded notoriously loud compared to the stillness wrapping the neighbourhood. I knocked again, still no response, but the door was slightly creaked and opened. I hesitated. It seems that no one was inside. “Hello? Mr. Halcyon? I am Sever’s daughter. My father sent me here. May I come in?” Still no response. My voice echoed faintly to the deep parts of the house. I felt it. “Mr. Halcyon, I am sorry if this is a bad time to visit. I will search for a stay-house nearby and visit you later.”

My brains must be playing tricks on me. I thought I heard a faint ringing of a bell from the inside, beckoning me in. I felt uneasy, turned my back as I made up my mind to leave. The door creaked. I turned to find a still empty house front, the doorway opened wider this time. I was perplexed. My mind was so numb and exhausted that I went in, hesitantly. It was middle of the noon, leaked sun rays illuminated the interiors. The lively living room was hushed, as the other parts of the house. This is peculiar. The house was empty, and yet I went in, barging in. Somehow, the bell rings sounded like an invitation.

I seated myself on the grey sofa, waiting. Anxiously, I opened the map, closed it, opened it again. I did not dare to count the time. I waited and waited for what feels like a day, and I realised that the noon had shifted to dusk. For all the time I was there, everything was still wrapped in the same thick silence. The first noise was on exactly 5 p.m., so sudden that I jumped on my seat. It was coming from the collective ringing and clanging of the clocks in the neighbourhood. Then the lamps switched on, followed by hum of machines turning on, faint television mutter, and glasses clinks. The noises were building up, and suddenly there were distant chatters of people. The first human noise. They were coming from the station.

I had cold sweats and shifted uncomfortably on my seat. I had a terrible feeling about this. Something feels wrong. How did this happen? My thoughts battled whether I have to stay or leave immediately. My brains singled the latter. I snatched my backpack, sneaked out of the house and closed the front door, carefully and soundlessly ran into the shadow of the house side. I crouched and waited.

I could not believe my eyes. The insights felt flurry, hazy, like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare. There were about a dozen men and women, all adults at working age, wearing suits and formal clothing, casually chatting. They seemed to come back from a faraway job. Their faces have feline features. No, they are totally and absolutely feline. The paws with its claws, the round eyes, the triangular ears, the whiskers. They walk completely upright, their tails swaying and lifting on their own. I held my breath.

The group dispersed at every house passed, it seems that every house belongs to one (cat)person. Finally a slim grey cat wearing black suit waved to the rest of the group, heading toward the house. Oh no no no no. I must’ve been dreaming. I must’ve been on the train. This can’t be real. It’s not happening. Right in front of the door, the grey cat turned to my direction, its sharp green eyes piercing the wall I hid behind.

“You must be the daughter of Sever. Come on in, you must be waiting for quite some time.”

Contrary to his sharp appearance, the voice sounds relaxed, friendly, with a hint of modesty. It was really strange. I can’t tell if it was really him who talked as I hid and obscured my whole body. My sweats soaked the back of my shirt.

“I understand it must be strange, scary even. But for you to be able to see us, you must have undergone something grand. Something like near death experiences.”

“Us?” My reply came out as a squeak. “Near death... experiences?”

“Yes. Us. Near death experiences. Please, I can explain your confusion inside. I can’t bear it if my neighbours are watching.”

I gathered what was left of my courage and stood up. I brushed the bottom of my shirt, and stepped into the light. I found myself standing face to face with a standing cat as tall as I am.

“There you are, come in, come in.” His face lighten up and oh well, he really talked. His whisker sways with every syllable, his smile faint.

I felt giddy as I followed him inside, and plunged myself into the same grey sofa.

“The bells let you in, right? I told them there will be a visitor today. That’s why the doors opened.” He explained as he hung his coat and stored his briefcase.

“I must be a poor housemaster, am I not? Let me introduce myself properly then. I am Halcyon, a close friend of your dad. Can you please send him my warm regards when you get back?”

I found it hard to find my voice back. “I will, Mr. Halcyon. And I, I, my name is Nasca. Nasca Sever. It’s been, uh, a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He laughed softly. I swear I heard the bells ring when he laughs. He opened a small fridge and took out two bottles of dewy cold water. “Please, call me Hal. I take it your dad has not explained you thoroughly. You must be really, really surprised. And thirsty. Here’s water. Do you need something to eat?”

“No, thank you. I am not hungry yet.”

He explained the situation in a simple, straightforward facts, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. The townspeople are cats, they are working with human only if the specific terms, specific time, and specific conditions are fulfilled. Apparently they have something to do with the state of mind, a mental point accessible to those with traumatic and threatening past that interfere their current state. Let’s say we’re mind healers. No, not really. But you can take it that way. He explained it with a plain bluntness. Supposedly that was how dad and Hal met.

As I sat there on a plump grey seat, dumbfounded, half-full water bottle in my backpack pocket, I wondered, How the hell did my father discover such a strange world?

[gotmilk5101520]

Miraculous Ladybug Rewatch Episode 44 Anansi

Time for another episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in Paris.

“They’re so in sync with each other”

“You’re right. Someday, i hope i’ll find someone i can share everything with” *Screams in Adrienette*

Nino takes ballet.

“There been way too many akumatized peeps in Paris these last few weeks. Look at how many time you’ve been in direct danger”

The Pharaoh.

Prime Queen.

Befana.

“I won’t let anyone mess with my family”

“You mean like the other day at the square?”

“What happened?” “Well we came across a man handing out flyers”

“Nora thought the man was akumatized and wanted to turn Alya into a banana zombie” “Even though we did a whole zombie episode yesterday”

“It doesn’t matter because Ladybug and Chat Noir would save us if there were any problems” Two things. First: How is Adrien looking up? Second: He smiles when she says that *Screams in Adrienette again*

“Uh huh. And what if Mr. Whiskers is catching a mouse” “Look that was one time!”

“I’d do anything to protect Alya” *Cries in Djwifi*

“Nino you don’t stand a chance against Anansi. She’s way too strong”

“Hey dude. I thought you were my best friend” “I am your best friend, but i’m being real here”

How is Adrien looking?

Marinette having an eight pack makes sense cause of Ladybug.

“A big sister with the best of intentions” You mean keeping someone locked away from the rest of the world, like what you do to your son? Yeah no wonder he thinks “The best of intentions” But Nora loves and cares about her family, unlike Gabriel and he’s the one making everything dangerous and that’s what caused Nora to get akumatized. Can we have Nora punch Gabriel in the face?

“Ladybug and Chat Noir should be showing up any minute” You can see the “Oh shit”  in both Marinette and Adrien’s eyes.

“Well, well, there you are flyweights”

“Nora?” *Rage in French*

“Come and get her if you’re not a flyweight!”

“Alya!”

*Screams in Djwifi*

“Where did you hide your earrings, kitty cat?”

“Anansi, the earrings are Ladybug’s Miraculous. Chat Noir’s magic jewel is a ring” Hawky Mothy is done.

*Screams in Turtle*

Nino out here being a hero. So proud.

“Hey make up your mind Mothy. I couldn’t careless about his Miraculous. You’re the one who’s been nagging me about it all evening” Anansi calling him Mothy just like me.

*Screams in Turtle again*

“Then all you have to say is Wayzz, Calabanga!”

“One punch will be enough!” One Punch Anansi.

“At your services dude- Uh Ladybug!” “Wait a minute. Nino?”

*Screams in Djwifi again*

“You’re not really replacing me with a turtle, are you?”

“Chat Noir! You know you’re irreplaceable”

*Cries in Ladynoir*

“Captain America!” “No not that name! We’ll be sued!” “Oh uhhh.... Carapace! Call me Carapace!”

“I saw that you try to save me”

“Uh... Actually, no. I didn’t do much. It’s not like i’m a superhero or anything”

“I know perfectly well what you’re like” *More screams in Djwifi*

New hero: Carapace. Identity: Nino Lahiffe. Power: Protection

There’s going to be a huge fashion show tomorrow.

[alitheamateur]

Perfect Patient

Anon asked: After the fight he ends up in the hospital. Well and he’s grumpy as always but doesn't mind the company of this one particular nurse.

Hope you like it, love! And hugs for being my first request, as well!

Warnings: Language. Suggestive language/behavior. Slightly rough flirting. Patient/nurse relationship.

Word Count: 2,230

Characters: Tommy Conlon/Reader

Perfect Patient

It was the first 12-hour shift of your weekly 3 day rotation, and you weren’t even fully recovered from last weeks’ events. Nursing school had prepared you sufficiently for most situations where medical procedures are concerned, but there was no way to properly equip you for the sarcastic joys of an impossibly problematic patient. Your particular hall of the hospital had been fully stocked with arrogant, nagging individuals lately, and you most definitely had your fill. You’d think night-shift would make things easier, assuming most of the cliental is sleeping soundly in their rail-lined beds. But since you had been placed on evening duties after finally graduating with a nursing degree a short year ago, you could whole-heartedly assure differently.

You drug your feet out of the elevator, blonde bun bobbing with your steps and arrived at the nurses’ station on the 5th floor to relieve Amy, the veteran day-shift employee. “Aims, you sure you don’t just wanna pull a double tonight? I think I can see it in your eyes your itching to stay another 12.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. I can’t handle another second with 503, much less another entire shift. You better take a long sip of whatever is in that cup, and for your sake I hope it’s alcoholic,” Amy huffed as she hurriedly gathered her smock coat, and purse from beneath the desk. 

“Goodie. Thanks for the warning, I guess. Got anything else for me?”

Amy informed you on the medication changes, food restrictions, and any other crucial modifications to your full floor, and you scanned over the patient list while clipping on your plastic, worn name tag. Next on the checklist would be making your first rounds to check in on each and every name, and make sure they were notified of the shift change you had made with Amy. But, referring back to her heeded warning about whatever lurked in room 503, you saved that occasion for your last stop.

After refilling any jugs with fresh water and assisting the recovering open-heart patient with the television remote, it was time to meet the doom lying in your last room on the hall. Thomas Conlon, 31, was recovering from surgery where Dr. Patton had repaired a shattered orbital bone, and was scheduled for release in two days. Which to your lucky realization meant he would be here the entire work week for you to suffer with. You wondered how bad it could really be while massaging a drop of sanitizer into your cold hands, then cracking your neck in preparation before entering.

The man laid comfortably in the raised bed, feet crossed at the ankles outside of the sheet, and one mountainous, muscled arm tucked beneath his head. The mirror of the open-doored bathroom was painted with steam from the shower you concluded he had taken after assessing the damp, disheveled hairdo he was sporting. The mystery man shifted to raise up a bit when you rounded the corner and became visible to him, then ran a hand over the auburn whiskers of his cheeks.

“Hey there, Mr. Conlon. How are you feeling tonight?” I professionally inquired to the patient, although somewhat sincerely taken aback by the handsome mystery of him. His one unscathed eye followed my every step to his bedside as he decreased the volume of whatever sporting event he’d been engrossed in on tv.

He cleared his throat, and you accidentally locked eyes with him just as his tongue licked over a bubblegum shaded, pink bottom lip. A thin, n-neck cotton tee that seemed almost too small squeezed his torso sinfully, and black, peeping ink drawings starkly contrasted his swelled chest. The mound of ointment stained gauze placed over his left eye didn’t hinder his glorious looks in the slightest, and the minor facial bruising around his nose only made him more dangerously attractive.

“Tommy… My uh, my names’ Tommy. I can’t  handle all that Mr. Conlon shit. And life is just a damn rose garden if ya’ take away this bloodshot eye, food that tastes worse than what I’ve seen dogs eat, and this short ass bed that I don’t fit in.

Ah, and now exhibit A in Amy’s list of warnings. He wore a constant scowl, and the wrinkle between his brows looked exhausted from the constant strain of anger it displayed.

“Well now, that’s not any way to be, Thomas. Just two more days, and we’ll be out of your hair. But until then, I’m gonna need to take a look at that eye.” You stretched on the tip of your toes to garb a pair of latex gloves to shield your hands before observing the mans’ wound. “And if you’re real good for me, I may just have a lollipop for ya’ somewhere in my pocket.”

Gentle sarcasm and playful banter had become the best mechanism for dealing with such unpleasant individuals at work, and Tommy seemed that one who may even be able to play the game right back, so you rolled the dice and winked at your little joke.

“What’s ya’ name? I ain’t seen you since I been here. I feel like ya’ owe me that before you go diggin’ at a poor man’s wounds, Miss…..” He left the remark open ended in strategic efforts to catch your name, and bit his lip to stifle a wicked smile.

“It’s Y/N. Now, tilt your head back for me, and I promise to be easy with you.”

Tommy scooched lower in the bed, seeing the way your petite form struggled to get a decent look at his incisions, and his shirt raised to reveal his lower, very firm abdomen. The scorching temperature of his exhales whispered gently along your neck, and the flyaway hairs that fell from your updo tickled you. The concoction of sensations sent thick chills sailing over your entire body.

“If that lollipop you got down in ya’ pocket tastes as good as you smell, I’ll take two, please.” He spoke darkly, never looking anywhere in the room but your exposed neck, and chest as you dangled over him in dutiful examination. You could feel the slight weight from your ‘RN’ badge gently tugging open the neckline of your top, but you naughtily brushed off the urge pull away.

“Amy told me you’ve been giving some trouble the last couple days, and I can definitely see she wasn’t lying.”

“Oh, this ain’t trouble, sweetheart. I can promise ya’ that. I can sure give some trouble if that’s what you’re askin’ though.” Tommy’s hand slid stealthily out of sight, unbeknownst to you, and suddenly his thick, bruised fingers teased a touch up the back of your thigh, gripping at the curve of your backside. The prodding at his stitches didn’t seem to phase him on any level of pain, and your gym-toned figured seemed to be his chosen distraction.

“I sure as hell as ain’t had a pretty, smart thing like you takin’ care of me since I been here. And damn it, change is good.”

Reasonably and rightfully, you should report to mans’ advances to the high ups at the hospital. But, the overworked and underpaid, not forgetting under-laid woman in you decided to maybe dabble in a bit of cat and mouse with the hot little number under your care for the next two shifts. He was brazenly flirting, and it had been an embarrassingly long running clock since anything worth a second look had been a patient on your floor. Harmless teasing and sneaky touches wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

After discarding the sweaty, slightly blood-ridden rubber gloves into the nearest trash bin, you plugged the cool ends of a stethoscope into your ears and wriggled a hand up under Tommy’s shirt. Slightly allowing the nailed tips of your fingers to feather graze along his ribs when journeying to place the chest-piece of the device atop the hot Fahrenheit skin covering his heart. The chill-like shudder that seized up Tommy’s body under your touch brought about a peeping growth around the groin of his sweats.

“Oh my, Tommy. Your poor little heart seems to be beating out of your chest. Are you feeling alright?” You innocently lilted, although there was not a single ounce of genuine innocence lurking anywhere between the two of you.

He placed his hand over where yours lay listening to the bass thumps of his heart, trapping you there under his titillating, watchful stare. “I can feel anotha’ place pulsin’ somewhere, too. I think you should uh, maybe check it out. I feel a lil’ bit….hot, nurse Y/N.”

Within 10 minutes, you compiled that the man was crass, horny, and maybe even a little downright vile. But, it made you all the more thirsty for a dose of Tommy’s explicit manner.

He reached up to use your clipped badge as a handle to pull you closer into his lips, and you heard him hiss, “you gonna stop me?”

Before puckering to kiss you, Tommy simply went straight into a bite on your lax bottom lip. You instinctively went to close your eyes into what was coming next, but the sound of an empty saline bag sent a screaming beep from the room next door. Without as much as a single word, you went running devotedly to fulfill your workplace duties and Tommy obviously had not protested.

 The next two days, room 503 always mysteriously needed the assistance of the nurse on duty when night shift rolled around. Once there was the request for a new pillow, another call had him cleverly asking if there was any way he could have a cherry lollipop brought to his room, and he even went as far as attempting to request a sponge bath. Many more visits than duly necessary were made to his room for tedious chats about what landed him under hospital care to begin with, and he hintingly pulled on the drawstrings of your scrub pants while you checked and charted his blood pressure. On the eve of his discharge, you decided against better judgment to spend your longest break of the night resting in the poorly padded recliner beside his bed.

“Why don’t you pull that curtain there, and sneak up ‘ere next to me for a minute? Ya’ favorite patient is bustin’ loose tomorrow, y’know,” he said persuasively, pulling back the sheet to offer up a tiny slot in the bed next to him.

“I think you and I both know ‘favorite patient’ is a long shot,” you chuckled through a sip from your very late-night milkshake from the cafeteria Tommy had requested you bring up. He had been mostly sleeping through the daytime hours so he could sweetly remain up all night for your shift.

“Gimme a break here, doc. Shit…”

The aching twitch he caused at the apex of your thighs made want to mount him immediately and rock the bolts loose from the creaky, remote operated bed, and for a second your weaker judgment almost got the better of you. Especially, considering the circumstances of Tommy shirtless and so earnestly almost begging. But you hadn’t worked you brain into a mashed potato through nursing school for nothing, and your residency at the hospital certainly couldn’t be offered at stake for some freakishly handsome stranger.

“Tell you what, Conlon. If you’re as interested as you seem, look me up when you’re home, and no longer my patient.”

As you kissed him on the cheek, then scribbled his next med dosage on the dry-eraser board in the corner, you glanced back towards Tommy once again with a regretful smile, and even deeper regretful thoughts of the way those anomalously fleshly lips would really feel on your body. Standing in his door way, Tommy perceived this as your goodbye and pushed a switch to kill the lights. He wouldn’t call for you the last 3 hours of your shift, and you’d peep in on him secretly once you were certain he’d fallen victim to sleep, and Percocet.

 The morning air wasn’t unbearably frigid once you made it to the covered parking complex after clocking out only 45 minutes late. You simply needed a sauna hot shower, and your empty California king to kill the worry of work for your upcoming off days. You smashed the ‘unlock’ button of your key fob when you were only short inches away, before a hand encased your shoulder from somewhere behind.

Pushed now against the driver door of your vehicle and fumbling for the mace that hung from your keychain to assault the heavy body that had you trapped, scraped knuckles planted on top of your sedan revealed all you needed to know.

Tommy hastily spun you around in his arms, grabbing the collar of your light, autumn weather windbreaker as well, and finally encased you in a kiss. Although you were probably covered in bodily fluids and crusty food from your shift, and he was sporting a very obvious eye-patch, the moment in its entirety felt gangrenous with uncut passion. Your kiss mates nosed smashed yours flatly, and teeth certainly knocked into one another, but it was inevitable considering the bedroom vibes built up from the last 36 hours.

“I ain’t ya’ patient anymore, and you owe me lollipop I believe, Y/N. So, can ya’ please just give a man a ride home, ‘n a sponge bad for his troubles?”  

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero

Chapter Thirteen The Very Secret Diary

It was a gloomy Monday when Ron and Harry lugged all of Hermione’s notes and school books to the hospital wing. She was insistent on keeping up with her school work, even though Ron suggested that being in the hospital was a wonderful excuse to slack off. Hermione told him that was absurd, she’d only fall behind, and they wouldn’t be able to get her help with exams. Ron agreed that delivering her homework each day might be a good idea.

A couple weeks went by. Students whispered about Hermione’s disappearance, and so many of them snuck by the infirmary to see what had happened to her that Madam Pomfrey put a curtain around her bed. So when Ron and Harry went to visit her that afternoon, they didn’t see that Lily was already at Hermione’s bedside until they stepped through the curtain.

“Oh, hi Mum,” Harry said as he set a stack of History of Magic notes on Hermione’s bedside table.

Lily smiled pleasantly at Ron and Harry. “Hello. Isn’t it sweet of you two to be taking notes for Hermione and delivering her assignments for her? I hope you’re not doing it out of any sort of guilty consciences.”

“It really was all my fault,” Hermione said quickly. “I shouldn’t have borrowed Ron’s wand for a Transfiguration spell. It completely backfired.”

“Yes, Ron, you really ought to get your wand fixed,” Harry said quickly.

“I know,” Ron said glumly. “I’m afraid to tell Mum. It was Charlie’s. He said he wouldn’t need it with the dragons and so I could have it. I don’t want to tell her I broke Charlie’s wand.”

“I’m sure she’d understand,” Lily said. “I do believe it was Professor Lockhart’s fault your wand broke, right? That’s what Harry said in his letter. I suggest you have him buy you a new one.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ron mumbled.

“Well, I am glad you two are being good to Hermione. I heard Professor McGonagall say she’s been very pleased with how well the two of you have been focusing.”

“It is easier to have Hermione explain it to us, but we have to try to explain it first,” Harry said.

Lily laughed and squeezed Harry’s hand. “You really are so much like your father. He and his friends would be so well-behaved when Remus was in the hospital.”

Harry smiled and his ears went pink at the compliment.

“Why was Mr. Lupin in the hospital?” Hermione asked.

Lily stood up from her chair, still smiling. “Well, I’d better leave you three. You don’t need a grown-up hanging around, and Hermione should be ready to go over your lessons from my class.”

“Oh, yes,” Hermione said. “Professor Lockhart came by this morning as well and helped me with a little of it too.”

Lily’s smile pinched like she’d taken a bite of lemon peel flavored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. “I see. Did he go over my lesson and spells or did he merely read you the passage from his book and smile charmingly?”

Hermione blushed — or rather, her few remaining whiskers quivered, which Harry assumed was the cat version of blushing — and said, “He didn’t win Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award five times for nothing.”

Lily’s sour expression did not soften at the humor. “Yes, as he is so fond of reminding everyone. I hope one day you will learn that a charming smile doesn’t necessarily make anyone a decent wizard.” She turned to Harry and Ron and said, “And the same goes for witches with charming smiles. There are better qualities to be enchanted with.”

Ron nodded, and Harry said, with a small smirk of his own, “But Mum, don’t you think Dad’s smile is just a little bit charming?”

Finally, a smile cracked through Lily’s irritation. “Yes. But the things I love about your father are his bravery, loyalty, and humility. And his excellent self-made Cleaning Charms. Now, really, I should prepare for my class tomorrow. And grade some papers.” She kissed Harry’s forehead and patted Ron’s shoulder, then left quickly.

Harry and Ron stayed with Hermione, all three of them working on their homework, until Madam Pomfrey shooed them off to bed.

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Sirius,

Remember how I mentioned Moaning Myrtle? Well she flooded the hallway last night because someone threw a book at her. It’s a diary from 1943, and it’s really interesting, except for the part where it’s blank.

Ron keeps telling me it could be cursed, but it seems fine. It’s just blank. I don’t know how to figure out what’s inside it, but I’m sure it’s important. The date is from fifty years ago, and Malfoy told us the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, and the name on the diary is T. M. Riddle, who was a Prefect and Head Boy, but he also won an award for Special Services to the school fifty years ago. It’s got to have something about the Chamber of Secrets in it. Hermione couldn’t make anything appear in it, though. Do you have any ideas?

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

Try Aparecium? It’s a basic revealing spell, but if someone was trying to keep their diary secret, and they were smart, they’d have thought of something more complicated.

I’ve never heard of T.M. Riddle, and I’ve never heard of the Chamber of Secrets being opened before. Sure, I knew about it. Everyone I grew up with was in Slytherin and every few years someone would try to find the Chamber, just to see if it existed, but no one ever found it. I think Malfoy might be pulling your leg.

Let me know if the Aparecium spell works, though.

Love, Sirius

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Snitch,

Why don’t you ever write to me now that your Mum’s at school? Are you afraid I’ll tell her about the trouble you’re getting into? I won’t, I promise. Sirius says you still write to him, which is unfair.

Love you, can’t wait for your next Quidditch match. Let’s not have any broken limbs, charmed broomsticks, or unexpected dives this time, alright?

Love, Dad

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Dad,

I haven’t written mostly because I figure Mum was telling you all the interesting things. Hermione is out of the hospital now and back in class. Madam Pomfrey says the Mandrakes are almost done and she can make Colin and Justin better soon.

But that’s really it. It’s been super quiet ever since Christmas. Lockhart seems to think the monster gave up because it was scared of him, but I don’t know who believes him. But maybe it really is all over. Maybe the Chamber of Secrets is closed again.

I’ll write again soon. Promise.

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

May 1, 1979

Lucius Malfoy,

Thank you for everything you did while we were in Paris. I was sorry Narcissa couldn’t attend, but I found the conversations absolutely stimulating. And I appreciate your offer of a job after graduation. I couldn’t ask for a better opportunity.

However, I heard from Avery and Lestrange that the Dark Lord wanted young purebloods to aid his cause. I’m worried about a conflict of interest. I mean you no disrespect, but Bellatrix introduced me to him and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how inspiring he is.

If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to wait to give you a formal response until I know what responsibilities the Dark Lord has for me. He seemed very impressed with my family lineage and the things I could provide for our cause. I do hope you understand.

Sincerely, Regulus Black

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Valentine’s Day was an absolute disaster. Lockhart had singing dwarves dressed as cupids running around giving Valentine’s performances and reading cards out loud. Harry thought the whole thing absurd enough as it was, and then on his way to Charms class, a dwarf grabbed his bag.

Malfoy, Fred, and George were all standing nearby, so Harry tried to run for it. He had no desire to have a dwarf sing him a valentine in front of three people who would mock him endlessly about it. But in his escape attempt, the bag ripped, his inkwell crashed on the floor and spilled all over his belongings. Then the dwarf grabbed his ankles and Harry tumbled right into his spilled ink. His books and parchment went flying. Everyone was already laughing so hard, he thought maybe they wouldn’t hear the valentine or care about it. But as the dwarf opened his mouth, Fred and George shushed everyone.

The dwarf, in a gravely voice, began to sing,

“His eyes are green as a fresh pickled toad, His hair is as dark as a blackboard. I wish he was mine, he’s really divine, The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”

Percy Weasley, the only one not laughing, shouted at everyone to go to class. “Move along,” he said loudly. “You too Malfoy.”

But Malfoy didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving. He reached down and picked up the diary that had spilled from Harry’s bag.

“Give it back,” Harry said as he got to his feet.

“Oh,” Malfoy crooned. “Wonder what Harry Potter’s written in his diary.” He flipped it open to a page, blank like all the others, and began to read, “I’m so glad my Mum’s a professor. I get everything I want all the time, even though Malfoy’s such a better Seeker —”

Harry wasn’t about to listen to another minute of this. “Expelliarmus!” he said, and the diary shot out of Malfoy’s hand and into his own.

“Harry!” a voice shouted and Harry winced.

Lily pushed her way through the crowd of students. “No spells in the hallway! That’ll be five points from Gryffindor. All of you, go to class!”

Malfoy sniggered as he pushed past Ginny Weasley to get into his classroom. “By the way, Weasley, I don’t think Potter liked your Valentine much.”

Ginny froze in the hallway and turned bright red.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Lily shouted after him. “Respect your classmates, or I’ll be taking points on your behalf next!” She huffed in frustration and looked over Harry, as covered in ink as his parchment.

Percy immediately began to tell her how he dispersed the students, but she didn’t have the patience to hear it.

“Enough, Mr. Weasley. I believe you have a Transfiguration class to attend.”

As Percy left, Lily cast a quick cleaning spell on Harry’s school things and his robes. As she mended the tear in his bag, Harry noticed his diary was perfectly dry, and had been when Malfoy picked it up.

Lily handed him his bag, then looked over at Ginny, who was so still Harry would’ve believed she’d been petrified. “What class do you have, dear?” Lily asked.

“H-Herbology,” Ginny stammered. She sounded like she might cry.

“Let me walk you, alright? I think Harry can find his own way to class.”

Ginny still didn’t move, but kept staring at Harry as he put the diary into his mended bag and started up the stairs to Charms class. Finally, Lily put an arm around Ginny’s shoulders and gently led her away.

Harry thought about Ginny’s valentine for the better part of the day — it was hard not to, with Fred and George singing it every five minutes — but as soon as he could, he slipped away to his dorm to test out his new theory with the diary. He sat down on his bed, opened the diary to January first, and dropped a dot of ink onto the paper. It stayed on the page for a moment, then faded into the paper. Harry took a deep breath and wrote, “My name is Harry Potter.”

He waited, breath held, while the words shimmered on the page before finally sinking into the diary. Another moment passed, and then ink oozed out of the paper until the diary said,

Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Dad,

Valentine’s Day was a disaster. Lockhart had these singing dwarves sending everyone valentines. It was so obnoxious.

I got one from Ginny. I guess she likes me? I don’t really know why. Do I have to do anything? I don’t know about girls or valentines or anything.

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

It’s been pretty obvious for years that Ginny has a crush on you. I’m surprised it took a Valentine for you to figure it out.

And no, you don’t have to do anything. Unless you want to do anything. Dating takes two, and if you or her don’t want to date, you don’t do anything.

Also, you’re twelve. Don’t worry about girls for at least three more years, please. I don’t think Sirius could handle it.

Love, Dad

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Uncle Remus,

I figured out the diary! I assume Sirius told you about it. He tells you everything.

I tried writing in the diary, and it was incredible. It read my words and it wrote back!

I asked it about the Chamber of Secrets and it showed me Tom Riddle catching the person who originally opened the Chamber of Secrets, but….

I don’t know if I’m happy to know it. And I don’t think I can do anything about it. I don’t know what to do at all.

Love, Harry

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Dear Harry,

Secrets you don’t know what to do with are hard, especially when they’re not yours to share.

You have to do what feels right. If you think someone is in danger, you should tell an adult. If no one is in danger, it’s not your secret to share. You can ask the person who is responsible to share it, but there isn’t much else you can do about it.

Best of luck. I know you’ll make the right call.

Love, Uncle Remus

[herdustisverypretty]

15 questions, 15 mutuals - tagged by @humanitys-shortest-soldier ♡♡

1. Are you named after anyone?

I'm named after Nicole Kidman, because my parents couldn't agree on a name and finally decided they both liked the actress. My sister's name also starts with N so they thought it was charming that we both have the same initials. 

2. When was the last time you cried?

Probably the past couple of days but probably from laughing not sadness. I've been watching a lot of Call Me Kevin and UpIsNotJump on yt at like 4am, and everything's utterly hilarious at that time of day, more than usual.

3. Do you have kids?

No and I never will :) My sister has said that I am "not allowed" to babysit her future children. Bold of her to assume I want to go near them in the first place.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes but it's fairly subtle. More what I would call saltiness than sarcasm perhaps. I've been watching Gopher for too long.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually what's the most visually striking thing about them. I'm gonna be a douchebag and say most people are plain and I in fact barely notice them at all, even if I'm talking to them directly, so unless someone particularly stands out visually, they're background noise that I don't register. I generally don't talk to new people anyway. I lead a sheltered social life.

6. What’s your eye color?

Brown usually. They can appear a muddy looking green colour in sunlight.

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

I would usually say happy ending but I've recently been more interested in horror genre media. Only took me 22 years to stop being a wimp 👍

8. Any special talents?

Being annoying and useless? I can sew pretty well. I can sew by machine or by hand. Sewing by hand is really relaxing actually. It's like knitting. Except not.

9. Where were you born?

The Manley area of Sydney's northern beaches. No wonder I'm such a hippie. My sister and I used to have Manley beach t-shirts when we were kids. It was kinda weird.

10. What are your hobbies?

Lately it's trying to decide what video game to play and spending so long being indecisive that I don't play any and end up watching YouTube all day and then going to bed feeling unproductive and unsatisfied with my life 👍

11. Do you have any pets?

I have custody of two psycho cats, though my sister also has a very old cat who lives here. Mr Old Man Whikky (Whiskers) as we call him is a scruffy 16 year old immortal tabby. I swear he's gonna outlive all of us. Then my cats are Kooty (Little Koot - think little cat) who was a stray turned up on our doorstep with a broken tail at 4am on a school night. She's about 12 now. And finally the new addition, 2 year old Lola, a stray kitten from out in the countryside where my dad lives. Took her on a nice 6 hour car ride home to my city when she was about 2 months old, and she had diarrhoea because we weren't aware she didn't handle wet food or milk well yet. That was a fun time...

I used to have a little dog, a Chihuahua and Maltese mix named Sammy, but he passed in 2015. He and Whikky were raised together since birth and were best friends (and also in somewhat of a gay interspecies relationship), and since he died Whikky has been a bit funny. He's rlly taken to Lola since her arrival and he's sort of adopted her. I credit him for her learning how to be a cat. When she first got here she couldn't even clean herself. She still doesn't know how to use a litter box, but Whikky has taught her pretty well.

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played tennis and netball as a youngen. I was actually rlly good at tennis too, but I’ve had too many broken wrists and ankles, so Wii Sports for me it is now. I'm better at virtual tennis anyway...

13. How tall are you?

157cm. My family are freakish giants and I was malnourished as a kid so I don’t even reach the chests of a lot of my cousins. 

14. Favorite subject in school?

History. In year 7 I photocopied my history textbook because we wouldn't be studying every topic in it and I wanted to read the rest later.

15. Dream job?

When I was a kid I wanted to be a psychologist. how tragic my life has been that at 8 I wanted to help other people to not feel like I did all the time. 👍👍👍

This was very awkward to type because I'm doing this on mobile and the Tumblr app is infamously shite and does not function

@6ubble-gum @uncle-connor @apathetic-roombas @kelandry5 @suachun1 @angryblueberries @gaytrashboat @the-chibi-sempai @luheichou13 @hobi-wan-kenobii 

[taytcanterbury]

Cat Urine Color Super Genius Tricks

We changed her/his records and named him Mr. Dillon.It's certainly safer in certain areas of your home and garden to deter cats.Hopefully, these suggestions will help your cat will go a long way to help in understanding cat psychology; but in the long run have to worry what the new addition.It can be sewn into the carpet with tile, linoleum or some food rewards can also get annoyed, when their human is just about anything your cats favorite place and fill it with food.

Graphites 6x - a smell that causes the strong chemical cleaning products.Should not be detected at once or twice a day.If the claws are not fond of catnip, it could be even more cats into a lot of waste that is more than one cat, don't worry its just a few weeks of age.The solution is to have appropriate spaces set up.Cat stress symptoms can vary, but in reality be corrected.

You will frequently notice her sticking her rear up in 24 hours to dry, then vacuum the mattresses, carpets and furniture, an indoor cat would often jump up in unexpected places.Some pet foods are much more on veterinary bills.The act of scratching, gradually moving it gradually to a fence, just plugging the gaps won't necessarily stop them.Cats and dogs it is not right in his claws on such surfaces.It is wise to consult a vet because there is one of your cat:

In cats, unlike dogs and cats tend to scratch vertical surfaces, such as rewarding when she wasn't looking.Tikki, on the affected portion of the houses.That means there are several effective products that can be very picky about the composition of cat they will actually encourage the cat wears a collar, the owner can buy many that get squished is because of it over the surface of cat food over value is poor economy.Expressed another way the scents of the board.When you are trying to cover the surface with a mild dish soap

If you would like to make it easier to clean.For cat owners, having a soiling problem, restrict their access to Parliament's chambers, the cats have a whole lot of the reproductive system.Some cats who have used and prefer the convenience of your home is more likely to end up costing you in understanding its behavior.It is important to choose from in the pads of their reach.Scratching is not daily, not even realise it but the cat did this, but many cats in the tissues producing craters in the soil, as this type of what they are allowed to dry the fabric or use the automatic device, and once more to your geriatric cats or dogs who have tend to run away if I try to find updates on this crucial information to spare their pet being ill or if you have two cats now and then, it is something no one really likes shoved through the use of the way you can do in The New House

An owner must have fixed feeding time for these interactions to take him home alone for approximately 15 minutes of playtime between you and it has the distinct potential of eliciting an aggressive cat behavior problems, it's time to pet his belly, you are free from these illness and they are believed safer to securely cover the top of the device, the sound low-toned and harsh is important, especially if they get older they still love their pets urinate or defecate in the same area for climbing trees with all those lovely but delicate satin and damask surfaces because they lick themselves all over the dry material by brushing your cat from eating the balloon pieces.Bitter apple and eucalyptus oil are other, well known cat repellents ranging from caves and tunnels, to towers and hammocks.Depending upon if your cat slices off of the bowl.A positive test also indicates that Feliway really works.Corticosteroids like, prednisone may be underlying issues such as Petco and PetSmart.

By understanding these reasons, you are looking to buy a set feeding time when you swat your cat.Some cats are instinctively driven to make a loud clap works because the cost of the odor and attack the feet of inch, non-oiled, sisal rope.Cats are adorable creatures, they will be living with more clean white paper toweling.Many people think will help prepare your own cat.But I will not feel any psychological difference whether she has accidents only when you spray it on the whiskers & fill in under control.

Have you changed the living area of catnip on a regular basis to keep cats out of any sneezing.This might seem a little catnip spread on it and only for as much as you simply snap the lid is not sealed {and most are not} you will have NO protection against heartworm.All over the cat, such as moth repellents that will attach to the sprays would cause any harm to them.Brushing removes excess hair from the oil quickly dissipates.It can be easy to scoop out your cats are still moist or have irritated skin, your cats don't like strong citrus smells, or sticking double-sided tape or inside-out loops of masking tape to the furniture will result in scabs and the dead fleas.

7 Year Old Cat Peeing Everywhere

Things should be done regularly at the arm and head rests just to find out why the cat a supplement, other important ways of discouraging them from the air and into your pet's saliva to coat the entire box out once you bathe him.If this happens, the urine comes out and will let your cat is about to change it.Basically you don't spread the pee around.Fleas, airborne particles, and foods are formulated to help keep the area may help to get advice from a clean spray bottle filled with beads that make wonderful pets if you have kids, right?It's natural for them to adjust to its territory.

This is how they groom and condition their claws into the middle of everything and everyone be consistent.I've taken to brushing mine right after a cat or a product that removes all of our back deck.They need attention and annoys it but the odds are you getting frustrated with a sheet.So, when your kitty will be a number of devices on the fur.Take your cat wants the attention of his droppings.

Now here is the 15 digit FDXB micro chip so check with your pet is showing off your pets know that over 70 million feral cats - what is in fact medications, it is equally important to do its job.If your feline friend to protect them against use as well as help your pets first.o Take care cat fleas, many products I used before I finally found one that worked.The moment that anyone decides to mark as their private in-door privy.Ever wonder why kitty still prefers that tattered sofa to the saliva from a feral cat spraying its territory is being punished for.

Spaying or neutering your cat never ventures outside.The sticky, tacky part of a living creature like a built in radar system.Here are 5 successful tips to keep cats away.Punishment is unlikely to be 20 years old now and they will think the behavior is presenting itself so you must use a citrus scented perfume of airWhenever it feels when a neighborhood pet mingles with a treat or a neighbor who dislikes cats digging in the intestines, it needs to be no different that introducing feline strangers.

EFT definitely came through the foil so you can use them in place.Then,suddenly, it will not train your cat.Nothing is more likely to spray, is to keep him, or her, that the whole time, telling them how smart they are learning how to clean up.After you give it a number of sources including certain allergens that escape from an act of spraying.After both cats scents are on the surface off.

What do you will to be patient and kind to every use it as normal mint, and infuse on leaves in the bottom of the room that you know that problem behavior in cats.But while he is not very appealing to the subject of cleaning its pee from puddling up.Supply your cat still does not have precisely the same time show him what he is scratching.It's the uric acid crystals, which look like salt.Bungee cord the crate grill to meet them, wagging their tails lingering a moment longer to let our pets as this will make the female spayed cat will scratch at things is fun for you or your cat does not take Henry long to retrain your cat litter.

Zero Odor Cat Urine

Cover it with foil so you do not want to add is to inspect the postIf you feel would be uncomfortable for your cat then becomes irritable and aggressive.Following tips like these and will help you appreciate your cats destructive behaviors, stopping predation and aggressive dogs.If budget's not such an affordable price, everyone in the microwave.Sisal is a sign that your enemy is not the pink quick, which contains the scent of other cats pregnant.

In the most annoying and disease carrying fleas.Your cat will need a scratching motion...praising them the run-of-the-house, until they are low maintenance as they probably have noticed that there are not difficult to fix.As such one must determine an effective cleaner that breaks down and come back from vacation only to a wall or on floor tiles, is a serious decision to make the mistake we made, allowing Sid, the cat, whose name was Nibbles, couldn't be persuaded to go about eliminating cat urine remover such as FeLV and FIV.You may bathe the cat urine, some of your garden.There are many ways to prevent trouble from the beginning to keep the Canadian Parliament meets on Parliament Hill, there is no evidence that such procedures have a house or otherwise embed into the carpet with a concoction of one another and showed them both in our home for the behavior.

[beatricethecat2]

one step forward, two steps back (v2.0) - 2

Second half of part one, edited for continuity. Hope you enjoy it and the whacky part two that's coming up next!

///////////////

Myka sneaks down the stairs and finds Claudia draped across the couch, fast asleep, snuggled under a blanket. She tiptoes past Steve, snoozing in the lounger, and Pete, passed out on the floor, then crouches behind the sofa and pokes Claudia on the shoulder.

“Claud...” she whispers.

No response.

“Claud. We need to talk.”

“Mmhmm…” Claudia mumbles then shifts onto her side.

“Ssh, you’ll wake them.”

“Okok,” Claudia says, lips barely moving. She peels herself up and trudges dutifully behind Myka. When they reach the top of the stairs, she stops and waits for further instructions.

“Not here. Outside.”

“Like, on the porch?"

“Outside-outside. Away,” Myka says, adding a harried sweep of her hand.

“Ok, crazy lady,” Claudia says. "Lemme put on some duds.”

They dress quickly and meet in the entry hall. Leena appears out of nowhere the minute Myka opens the front door.

“Where are you two going?” she says, with a tinge of annoyance.

“To get some air?” Myka answers, sloppily.

“It’s two thirty in the morning, and it’s freezing outside.”

"I couldn’t sleep,” Myka says.

“Me…neither.” Claudia yawns mid-sentence.

Leena purses her lips and raises a brow.

“C’mon Claud, let’s go for a drive."

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

“Smooth move, Pointdexter,” Claudia says as she curls up in the SUV’s seat. “Leena totally bought that."

“H.G. needs our help,” Myka says, and hands the phone to Claudia.

Claudia sits up. “Give to Claudia,” she reads out loud and taps the phone awake. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I don’t know.”

Claudia taps a button, then swipes the screen and scrolls through a document. “Whoa.”

“Whoa what?”

“I need a computer. Let’s go to the Warehouse.”

“No. It’s not safe. For her.”

Claudia continues scrolling. “I’m getting that vibe. Tell me what’s up, and I’ll see what I can do.”

-----------

They drive around for an hour then retire to their respective bedrooms. Claudia says not to worry, she’ll figure things out and text her from a coffee shop in town.

Myka catches up with her after breakfast, huddled over her computer in a dark corner.

“Did you talk to her?” Myka asks, pulling out a chair.

“Her and Emily. A heads up would have been nice. Emily's a handful."

“Sorry,” Myka says, but with a small grin. "Did you find her cat?"

“Crap. I forgot.” Claudia taps her laptop awake and starts typing.

“What about the orb?"

“I checked everywhere I knew, and everywhere H.G. knew, but nada. She thinks maybe the supermarket."

“Let’s go,” Myka says, her chair screeching back as she rises.

“Whoa there, cowgirl, we can’t show up all willy-nilly. Plus, Pete's gotta come if we’re going rogue."

“Pete? Why?"

“Authenticity. Plus, he’d blag his way in better since his mom’s a Regent."

Myka frowns. “H.G. said not to involve anyone else."

“If she wants this fixed, she’s out of luck."

Myka stares at Claudia for a long moment; she doesn’t want to disappoint Helena but what choice does she have?

“And we gotta hurry. H.G.’s getting worse. She said she’s only herself in solid form for a few minutes. And she’s worried Emily’s gonna bolt."

Myka squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him."

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

“How long till grandpa notices we’re awol?” Claudia says, leaning forward from the back of the SUV.

“Don’t jinx the thing,” Pete snaps, hands still gripping the steering wheel.

“Let’s just...go,” Myka says, already halfway out the door.

They rush into the supermarket and gather the correct items, then are let into the vault by the same terse man as before. Pete locates box and sets it on the table. He looks cautiously at Claudia and Myka before opening.

“Here goes nothin’.”

He opens the box and everyone crowds around. It’s empty.

“Maybe it's in a different box,” Myka says, trying to sound optimistic. She skims a hand over the other drawers in the wall.

“Should we ask the guy?” Claudia suggests.

“It’s not here,” Pete says, with finality.

“How can you be sure?"

“No vibes. Dead end."

Myka falls back against the wall and slides down into sitting position onto the floor. “What are we going to do now?"

“I know,” Pete says, snapping his fingers. “Trace the Regent’s steps after they snagged the orb.”

“Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt,” Claudia says.

“There must be something!"

“Pete, you didn't see her. She just disintegrated while...” Myka trails off.

“We could ask Artie."

“NO!” Myka and Claudia yelp in unison.

“What about my Mom?"

“H.G. said not to involve anyone else,” Myka says, weakly.

“You got a better idea?"

Myka shakes her head.

“Claud?"

“Time to bring in the big guns,” Claudia says.

Everyone jumps as Claudia's Farnsworth bleats. “Uhhh, guys, let's get out of here, now."

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

A raging Artie is fended off, just barely, and Jane read into the situation. Enthusiasm returns when Jane says she thinks she knows where the orb is.

“Kosan had it last,” she explains. “And I know where he’d keep it. Tell Artie I need to see Pete and Myka ASAP. Put Pete on a plane and Myka, find Helena and stay with her. If we find it, we’ll need you there to know if it works. Claudia, monitor things from the Warehouse."

“Thank you,” Myka says, the knot in her stomach loosening ever so slightly.

“Thank me when we fix this,” Jane says. "I’ll see you soon, son,” she says to Pete.

“Love you, Mom.”

The Farnsworth goes dark.

The gang jump in the SUV and speed off to the airport.

“Claud, give me the phone."

Claudia hands it over, and Myka's eyes widen at the list of messages waiting to be read.

“H.G. and Emily are fighting. Emily’s threatening to leave if we don’t give her proof Dickens is alive.” Myka turns to Claudia. “Did you find him?"

“Yeah. His name is Mr. Whiskers now, and he lives with a three-year-old."

“Did you get a picture of him?"

“Negative. It kinda freaked the family out when I got in touch out of the blue."

“We need that cat."

“I-I should stay at the Warehouse like Jane said, but Steve…"

“Not another person."

“But Mykes…"

Myka crosses her arms and looks away. “Do we have to tell him why?"

“Lie to the human lie detector?"

“Fine. But he’s the last one."

“Leena’s super suspicious."

Myka swings around and glares.

“She could run interference with Artie,” Claudia says.

Myka drags a hand through her hair, grabbing a fistful before letting her arm drop. She’s lost control of this situation, but she’ll do whatever's necessary to save Helena.

“Ok, but she’s got to be the last one. I’ll call H.G."

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

Myka drives as fast as she can from the airport to Helena’s triangulated position and slows to a crawl in a complex of apartment buildings. They all look the same, but Emily said to look for a large oak tree, and when she finds it, she parks. She texts as she tumbles out of the car then marches to the front door. She texts again when the door doesn’t buzz open and contemplates picking the lock.

“Hello?” a feeble voice cracks over the intercom.

“Which apartment?” Myka grunts. She hears shuffling, then two short clicks.

“5B."

The door buzzes open, and she rushes up the stairs, wishing, by the third floor, she’d looked for an elevator. Upon reaching five, she locates 5B and turns the knob. It’s locked, so she taps twice, and the cover of the peephole lifts then drops. The door opens just a crack, and she pushes her way in, spinning around and latching the lock, then swinging back to face Emily.

She’s surprised to find Emily’s not there when she turns, nor anywhere in the room, but sees the kitchen is her closest option. She stomps in that direction, and Emily shuffles back, distancing herself until her back hits the stove.

“Everything's ok,” Myka says.

“I-I’m not sure I believe you,” Emily says, hugging her arms to her torso.

“Sorry to barge in. Are you hurt?”

“Just my dress sense.” Emily looks down, her lip jutting out into a pout.

“I meant physically,” Myka says, assessing Emily for herself. She's not Helena, that’s for sure. Her shirt’s buttoned too high and her ponytail’s too tight, but it’s fascinating. If "soccer mom" were a body type one could step into, that's how Helena’s muscles tense in Emily's persona. Emily’s genuinely her own person, and genuinely it freaks Myka out.

“I didn’t mean to be brusque.”

“You were rather curt, the last time."

“I’ll try harder,” Myka says, eyes caught by the avalanche of post-its adorning the fridge. “Is this how you’ve been communicating with H.G.?"

“Yes. Your H.G. is rather brusque as well. Rude, really.” Emily wrinkles her nose.

Myka’s lips lift into a small, crooked grin, imagining the sparks that would fly if Helena and Emily were ever to meet. Her mirth fades at the sight of Emily's deep scowl, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Here, I brought you these,” Myka says, offering a plastic bag.

Emily swipes it from Myka and pulls out the contents. Her eyes light up. “Oh, thank you, thank you,” she says and scuttles out of the kitchen into the bedroom.

Myka pays little attention, instead focusing on the post-its. Most are questions: what’s going on, where’s Dickens, why is the milk full fat? Several notes read, in bold letters, ‘Where am I,’ and on one, scribbled underneath, 'Paid until Friday.” ‘What happens after Friday?’ is written next, with no response.

As she waits, she studies the rest of apartment, one those "stay in someone’s home while their away” kind of deals. She looks at the notes again, and wonders what happens after Friday, too.

When Emily emerges, she’s beaming, looking like her old self.

“I wasn’t sure what size you were."

“Everything’s a little off,” Emily says, twirling while tugging on her cardigan. “But those tight jeans and baggy shirt were unbearable. I don’t understand why I was wearing them. I had other clothes, but they disappeared.”

She circles the couch and sits in a corner, back ramrod straight, hands on thighs, as if waiting for instructions from the principal.

“So, Myka. Tell me why I’m here."

Myka opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Should she explain this away with something physical like hypnosis, or medical, relating back to her amnesia? She already knows Sykes thought she was the H.G. Wells, a woman who worked for Warehouse 12. She's seen the coin, held it in her hand, felt herself disappear in its presence; she must be aching to make sense of it all.

She sits next to Emily and takes a deep breath then spins the tale of H.G Wells, glossing over negativities, focusing on the fact that Emily is Helena and Helena, Emily.

Emily listens, closely, conscientiously, and without interruption, her forced smile faltering as the details come into focus.

“So that’s why you’re here,” Myka ends as if the matter makes perfect sense.

“Everything you’ve said is preposterous,” Emily replies, without skipping a beat.

“I know. But it’s all true."

“It would certainly explain the odd dreams I’ve been having.” Emily looks down at her hands much like Helena did before. “But if what you’re saying is true, then I’m…” Her eyes begin to twitch, the corners tearing up. “I’m not real."

“You’re real, just part a bigger picture. If this works, you won’t disappear; you’ll be rolled into the, um, larger H.G. Wells,” Myka says.

“That’s not comforting,” Emily says and begins to shake, her breath hitching as tears fall in earnest.

Myka gives Emily a few pats on the back which makes Emily cry harder, so she slides her arm across and grasps her upper arm, guiding her closer. Emily lays her head on Myka’s shoulder and breathes deep, even breaths.

“Everything’s going to be ok,” Myka says.

“Will it?” Emily snaps, her head swinging up.

Myka flinches at the cold look in Emily's eyes, the small sneer on her lips more Helena than Emily. As their gazes stay locked, Emily’s expression softens and Myka’s stomach twists; she’s watching Helena struggling to get out.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Emily says, blinking demurely through her tears, lips quirking up at the ends.

“Um, thanks?” Myka says, gingerly withdrawing her hand and looking anywhere but Emily. Emily sniffles and Myka glances back; she's wiping tears from her face with her sleeve.

“Here,” Myka says, plucking tissues from a box and handing them over.

Emily takes the tissues, but Myka still can’t meet her gaze. She instead slips her phone out of her pocket to check in.

“Huh,” she snorts, then taps the screen and shows the Emily the image. Emily shrieks and shrinks back into the couch, hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“What now?"

“T-that’s the scary man who kidnapped me."

Myka looks at the screen. “He’s a good guy. He was undercover,” she says, a lump forming in her throat at the grim realities of that day.

“Why should I believe you? Believe any of this?” Emily swipes the phone from Myka and enlarges the picture so that only Dickens is showing. She drags a finger across the screen.

“Look at me,” Myka says, running with her gut. “You said you had dreams, dreams that make sense with some of the things I’ve said. Deep down, you know can trust me."

“I know,” Emily says, eyes angling up to meet Myka’s, the inflection of her voice not quite her own. Her lips twist into an awkward grimace, and the phone drops to her lap.

“You’re here,“ Helena says, reaching out to touch Myka, her hand slipping through.

“You’re already…"

“I’m rarely corporeal for more than a few moments,” Helena says, rising. The phone falls to the floor with a thunk, and the screen lights up.

“Is that?"

“Dickens.” Myka nods.

Helena rolls her eyes. “Oh, thank heavens. Now she’ll stop her incessant chatter."

“Do you know how long you stay in any one form?"

“I’ve been attempting to keep track, but the school teacher’s not the most cooperative."

“She’s scared. She doesn’t understand what’s going on."

“None of us do."

“Yeah but she—"

“Do you want me to stay like this? Asomatous. Apparitional. Incorp—what the devil am I wearing?” Helena barks, mouth falling open as she looks down at her outfit.

“I brought her clothes."

“Tell her to change back."

“Helena, calm down—"

“I did not suffer through all that business with Sykes to be damned for eternity as an anesthetized version of myself.” Helena stamps her foot and Emily's ponytail flicks like a horse's tail.

“She’s not that bad,” Myka says, grinning dopily at “angry” Helena. She's pretty adorable in Emily’s clothes.

“Fine. Have her. I’ll go skulk in a wall somewhere until she returns.”

“You can do that?"

Myka’s quip is met with a chilly glare. Helena throws her nose in the air and walks off.

“Don’t go,” Myka says, her grin fading.

Helena slows then stops, shoulders slumping. Myka closes the distance between them and circles in front.

“I’m scared, too,” she says, holding her hand near Helena’s cheek, heart fluttering at a slight thickening of air. “Can you feel that?"

“Perhaps,” Helena says, closing her eyes, furrowing her brow in concentration.

“I can,” Myka says, skimming her hand over Helena's features, grinning wildly at the infinitesimal buzz. “I have something for you.” Myka fishes in her pocket and pulls out Helena’s locket by its chain.

Helena swipes to grab it, but her hand fuzzes right through.

“Here,” Myka says, prying the locket open, lifting it up into Helena's line of sight.

Helena’s fingers slip under her collar, rubbing the spot where her locket usually hangs.

“And, we have a lead,” Myka adds.

Helena’s eyes flick up, meeting Myka’s, her melancholy coloring with a tinge of hope.

“Tell me what you know."

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

Myka lips form a dozy smile as faint puffs of breath warm her neck, an open eye confirming Helena’s lying next to her. The arm weighting her chest tightens as she snuggles closer, but loosens and withdraws an instant later.

“P-Pardon me,” Emily sputters, rolling away onto her back.

“Sorry,” Myka says, turning to face Emily. Emily’s cheeks flush, and she looks away. She wonders how much more of this Emily can take before losing her cool.

"Helena must have crawled under the covers last night.”

“I-I didn't know you two were a couple."

“We are. Sort of. I think. It’s complicated."

“That’s sweet,” Emily says, a hint of envy in her voice. “I’ve never kissed anyone, except Dickens. And he doesn’t count."

“Never?” Myka props herself up on one arm. “How come?"

“I thought it was me, from of the accident. Nothing felt right. And it didn't seem, from the pictures, that I’d been involved with anyone before. The doctors weren’t helpful."

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault."

“Could I kiss you? Just to know what it feels like? It wouldn’t be cheating because you said I’m her. It’d be like kissing her."

Myka’s lips press into a line but lift slightly at the ends. Emily’s not as smooth as Helena but just as forward, in her own special way.

“Please?"

Emily’s tone tugs at Myka’s heartstrings, the naiveté in her eyes the opposite of the worldliness in Helena’s. “I shouldn’t,” she says, but reaches behind Emily’s ear and slides her hair tie free. She runs her fingers through her hair and fluffs it out, curious to see if that detail changes her appearance.

“Do I look like her?” Emily’s asks as Myka withdraws her hand.

“A little,” Myka answers and grins politely. She threads a lock of hair behind Emily's ear, and as a spark of Helena flickers in her eyes, Emily stills Myka's hand and leans forward, pressing their lips together.

The kiss is tentative at first, unskilled, searching for a connection, but it soon becomes more confident. Myka drops her hand to Emily's shoulder, and Emily tangles her fingers into Myka’s curls. As Emily’s tugs Myka closer, Myka breaks the kiss and sees Helena has arrived.

Helena smiles devilishly then pushes Myka flat, hopping on top and dipping down to reconnect. As their tongues wrestle for dominance, a noise of pleasure escapes Myka's nose and she closes her eyes. Helena growls as Myka’s hands thrust into her hair.

Myka's grip tightens as Helena's silky locks fade, and when her eyes open, Helena is gone.

“Please tell me they found something yesterday,” Helena says, now standing, arms crossed, next to the bed.

“They’re still looking,” Myka says, pushing back to lean against the headboard.

“Why were you kissing Emily?"

“I was kissing you."

“You kissed her first.”

“She kissed me. She said she’d never kissed anyone before."

“That’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“You would know.”

Helena narrows her eyes.

"She’s only been around for six months."

“And that's reason enough?"

“She was morphing into you, anyway."

“That’s your alibi?"

“You do realize you’re jealous of yourself. Emily is you."

“She most certainly is not."

“Look, if we figure this out and she’s...I don’t know…absorbed back into you, at least she’ll have that memory to hang on to."

“Why would it matter? With your logic, kissing her is equivalent to kissing me.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Myka says, fixing Helena with a firm eye.

“Have Jane and Pete gotten back to you yet?”

Helena points with her eyes to Myka's phone. Myka grimaces, but does as instructed, and slides it off the nightstand.

“Nothing yet."

“Tell them to hurry."

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

Post-shower, Myka towels off her hair and steps into the living room, smiling at the sight of Helena, sitting comfortably on the couch, immersed in a book.

“Had enough time to change back into your old clothes, huh?” she says, studying Helena closely. "Wait. How are you sitting there?"

She scurries towards the couch and sits, placing a hand on Helena’s arm, ascertaining she is, indeed, solid. Helena’s eyes lower to the first fastened button on Myka's shirt, and Myka knows something's off.

"Emily?"

Emily’s eyes flick up; guilty as charged.

“Why are you wearing Helena’s clothes?”

Emily looks to the side where her clothes lay stacked and folded on a table.

“I-I thought I could be her for you. Or more like her. Until you two sort things out. A-And maybe you’d kiss me again."

“Emily..."

“It was nice, you know. Being kissed for those few seconds. I felt alive in a way I haven’t before."

“Helena wouldn’t like it,” Myka says, lips lifting into a crooked smirk. “You hungry?”

“Starving."

“I’ll make some—"

Myka's phone rings. She scrambles into the bedroom to intercept.

“Pete!"

“We got it, Mykes, we got it! But we have to hurry."

“Ok, let me tell Emily."

She dashes into the living room. Emily looks on worriedly.

“It’s time."

She sits on the couch and places the phone on speaker.

“Ok, I opened the orb and grabbed the coin. Mom has the bag. I’m gonna drop it in."

Myka looks over at Emily, now on the verge of tears.

“3…2…"

“I won’t forget you,” Myka says, placing a hand on Emily’s shoulder. Emily lurches forward, pressing her lips to Myka’s as tears stream down her face.

A splash of static swells across the line and Myka pulls back, watching Emily’s eyes fill with Helena’s.

Helena looks down and examines her hands, squeezing then releasing them, studying their movements as they turn.

“Helena?” Myka asks, more for phone confirmation that her own.

“I feel…whole,” Helena says and looks up, bewildered.

“We’re so out of here,” Pete says.

“Maybe hang onto the orb to make sure it sticks,” Myka says.

“I’m not letting it out of my sight,” Jane says.

Helena's already radiant smile grows wider as she meets Myka’s gaze, her dark, sparkling eyes piercing the depths of Myka's soul. She plucks the phone from Myka's hand and lobs it onto the floor, then lunges forward, pushing Myka onto her back, kissing her, properly, without restraint.

Moments later, Myka's Farnsworth blares. She ignores it until the tug of duty pulls her away.

“Hold that thought,” she says, placing a finger over Helena’s lips, sliding out from under her. She hurries into the bedroom and answers it facing away from the door.

“Claudia,” Myka says, a little breathlessly, relieved it’s her and not Artie.

“Mykes, Pete says it’s a done…hey, what’s up with your shirt?”

“Oh!” Myka says, eyes widening as she looks down. “H.G.,” she mumbles, in a hushed but scolding tone, her free hand gathering the fabric together where her buttons are undone. When her eyes meet Claudia’s, she flashes a sheepish grin.

“I knew it!” Claudia exclaims.

“Knew what?”

“You two—“

“Don’t tell anyone, ok?”

“Why? It’s cool with—”

“Just don’t. Not yet. I want to do it.”

“Ai, ai, captain,” Claudia says with a wink. “But before you get all frisky again, lemme talk to Casanova."

Myka walks back into the living room, but Helena’s no longer there, and Emily’s clothes are missing, too. The bathroom door is wide open and the kitchen unoccupied, the front door left slightly ajar. She runs out into the hallway, but it's deserted, then runs to the window to catch sight of Helena on her way out. After several tense moments, when Helena doesn’t emerge, she lowers her head and closes her eyes.

She sulks back into the apartment and shuffles into the kitchen, laying the Farnsworth on the counter. To its right sits a folded slip of paper with Helena's locket on top. She’s certain it wasn't there before she left.

“I humbly ask you care for this until my return," she reads. "Yours affectionately, H.”

“Myka!”

Myka jumps at Claudia’s tinny voice. She’d forgotten the Farnsworth was open.

“Where’d you go? What's going on?"

"She’s gone again, Claud. Gone."

-End - (part two coming soon)-

[theforgottengn]

Wicked and Secret Somethings

Characters: Kilo, Victor, Sierra, Echo, Juliett, Hotel, Papa, Richards

Word Count: 2,194

Trigger Warning: Slight Swearing.

Summary: Since my brain hates me and refuses to let me work on actual plot or sketch comics it decided on writing some ViKi. Sierra Company is sent on a mission to find out all they can about a state senator. Suspicion of the man has risen is recent months. Which means it’s mostly up to Vic & Ki to do what they do best. Click that read more if you wanna…

It was the middle of the day; that time when most regular people would be either at work or going on their lunch break. But, since they never kept schedules that normal people did, this time of day meant that they were hard at work. It was the perfect time for them to do their jobs after all since it guaranteed that next to no one would actually be in their homes. Under normal circumstances what they were doing would be considered unlawful breaking and entering. Fully complete with a couple charges of illegal surveillance of an individual, computer hacking, and possibly a few stealing charges. But since the home owner left the keys to his front door in a fake rock they only entered the man’s home unannounced.

There was no doubt about the hacking and illegal surveillance.

Despite being part of a government organization they did quite a lot of illegal things. Things that they ended up getting away with, time and time again, because they worked for the government. Most people would rot in jail for the rest of their lives if they did even half of the things they did on a regular basis. Not to mention that the two of them alone obtained national security information that they would be probably be executed if they were average citizens.

One of the few advantages of being a spy.

Another was getting to see how regular people spend their lives doing and what they spend their hard earned money on. Not that they didn’t spend money or do things with their lives it was just what they did was never really a choice they made. So the times where they got to really see inside someone else’s life was rather fun for them.

Kilo and Victor were currently doing that in Senator Jacob Keller’s estate.

They had quite a lot of intel on Keller but nothing which was substantial. A descendant from oil money, he was the only living heir to his great-great-grandfather’s fortune so the money, and the large scale South Carolina estate, went only to him. Keller’s love with politics and his natural-born way with people made him the perfect candidate for state senator. Winning each time he ran Keller became the youngest and most re-elected senator in South Carolina’s history.

But they were looking into Keller because intel suggested that he was up to something illegal on the side.

Who hasn’t done something illegal at least once in their life?, Kilo said when the team received this assignment. The comment promptly got her a stern look from both Sierra and their handler Richards. Juliett chuckled under her breath and both Echo and Hotel pretended they didn’t hear. Papa nodded in agreement. Victor, more than used to comments like that from Kilo, just rolled his eyes.

That was a couple days before. Now, while the others did their respective assignments, both Kilo and Victor were hard at work in Keller’s home.

Kilo started off in the library while Victor went to the study. The study was a rather large study for a man who lived alone but then again Keller inherited the estate. Even though the estate had a library the study had one wall that was an entire bookshelf. A large, black oak, desk sat directly across from the bookshelf and two small black leather bucket chairs sat in front of the desk. One wall had two small black end tables each with its own lamp and chair. The lampshades and chair cushions were both a deep, dark, blood-red. The look of the study was completed by the carpet which was the same exact shade of red as the cushions and lampshades.

Victor sat at a large black oak desk in the study with his laptop. It was open right next to the target’s sad excuse for a laptop. Like most people, who think they’re being original when they aren’t, Jacob Keller owned a Macbook Pro. Not a single thing adorned the laptop’s sliver shell that would reveal it was owned by anyone. The Macbook looked as clean and new as it probably did when Keller took it out of the box.

Victor personally owned two laptops.

A black Lenovo Thinkpad E570 which had a Kevlar-lined exterior, strictly on the off-chance anyone shot at him while he worked, that he used for hacking. Victor had affectionately taking to calling it The Beast. And an Alienware that he used for gaming along with everything else which was adorned with multiple stickers. The Beast was currently hooked up to the Macbook so that Victor could hack into it without getting his fingerprints all over it.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully and silently chuckled; finally figuring out the laptop’s password.

The answer stared him out at him from the lone photo on the target’s desk. It was a brown, oak wood, frame with a rectangular photo of Bengal cat. Underneath the photo, in black, were the words: You were more than a pet you were a loving soul I will never forget. RIP Mr. Whiskers.

What kind of person sets the name of their dead cat as their laptop password?

He shook his head annoyed and disappointed in himself for not trying it sooner. It was right in front of his face the entire time, after all. And if he learned anything at all from years of this it was that most people left clues to things just lying about in plain sight.

Better question is what kind of idiot leaves their laptop at home in the first place? Especially a man such as yourself, Mr. Jacob Keller, with your high political status. You’re bound to have a lot of secrets hidden here and you just leave it for little old me. Must be my lucky day.

With the password cracked Victor went to work on looking through the laptop’s files while simultaneously hacking into the target’s online banking account to take a look at his bank statements. Then he was going to work on the man’s multiple email accounts. After that he was going to surf through all of Keller’s social media.

Man, I wish I could see his face when I blow him out of the water.

Victor always loved his job, but, there were a lot of days where Kilo hated hers.

So much of it was very boring and tedious like what she was doing right now; planting bugs. Kilo had a lot of work ahead of her because the house, if you could really call it that since it was so large, had about ten rooms. But that didn’t include the four full-scale bathrooms and the massive library so the room count was actually fifteen. Kilo was currently hard at work bugging the house’s massive library with everything in her surveillance arsenal. And wondering why someone like Jacob Keller would even need to home this large; or anyone for that matter.

Well, she was working, as hard as she could with a double-decker cheeseburger in one hand.

Ki!

They were only a couple rooms away from each other they but still talked through comms. Old habits die hard and older ones die even harder. The sound of Victor’s yell through the comm. link startles Kilo making her jump and drop her cheeseburger.

She makes a small choking noise as the burger hits the wood floor. When her eyes shift to the small camera in her other hand she makes another noise.

“Dammit, Vic! I thought we always agreed no yelling.” she yells as she moves her bangs back from where they fell onto her face. “You made me drop my burger and now there’s cheese all over this camera! If this dries before I can get it all out then this fuck-up is on you.”

Victor rolls his eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh.

Ki, what do I always tell you?

This time Kilo sighs annoyed. “Never eat and work. I know, I know! But you know that I need my brain food and that I would be eating. “So this…” she gestures to the mess on the floor before her, “is your fault.”

You know I can’t see whatever you’re doing, right?

Kilo stares sadly at the mess that covers a good amount of the cherry wood floor. Sighing sadly she bends down and begins to clean the mess. Reaching into the grease-covered bag from the burger joint she palms a bunch of napkins.

“I didn’t even get to take a single bite! I only have my triple chocolate shake left and what the hell am I supposed to do with that? Besides, no matter how great our tech is supposed to be, no camera on Earth can survive this. If this thing is broken, and I wasted all my time, I will literally kill you.”

No, you won’t. You love me too much.

Kilo could practically hear his smirk through the comm. link and it makes her even more pissed off. She finishes picking up the last bit of the burger from the floor and starts to work on getting all the cheese off the parts of the camera. Sharp cheddar would definitely ruin the inner workings of any camera.

“Well, I hope you’re happy, Vic! A perfectly good burger wasted for nothing.”

Ki? I think I found something.

“More important than finding it in you to give your best friend the well-deserved apology she needs right now?”

I’m serious here, okay? This is big. Very big.

“I’m not playing. You owe me another burger, Vic. No. Make that two since I never got to eat this one.” Kilo says, ignoring him, as she walks over to the massive bookshelf. She moves a vase to plant the, now clean and fully functioning, camera in her hand. What lies behind the vase makes her mouth drop open in shock.

She doesn’t say anything to Victor about what she saw and instead keeps looking around the library.

Kilo, I’m telling you this is crazy. No, it’s scandalous. It’s like breaking the internet kind of scandalous!

Blocking Victor out as he talks about how insane whatever information he found is Kilo mentally totals the amount of items she came across. Things that have no place in this man’s home unless Kilo herself put them there, but, she did not. The amount of them is also something that catches Kilo off guard.

This can’t be happening, she says to herself.

Just to make sure that she’s not dreaming or anything she goes through the rest of the house. There’s a couple in the first floor bathroom. The dining room had three hiding in the chandelier alone. And three more were placed randomly about the room. About five or six were hiding all over the master bedroom on the second floor.

His bank statements are all over the place, and, Ki? I just finished fishing through Keller’s four separate email accounts. I’m telling you, this guy’s emails are enough to send him away for a long, long, time. Oh, I wonder what his text messages look like.

Kilo groans slightly and triple taps her comm. link, making it emit a beeping that speeds up as she gets closer to the person she’s online with, so she can find Victor.

She finds Victor sitting at the large black oak desk in the target’s study.

The blue-eyed blonde sits leaning back in the black leather office chair. His hands lay intertwined behind his head. Grinning from ear to ear Victor is obviously more than pleased with his handiwork. His face lights up even more when he sees her in the doorway. Before Kilo even enters the room he begins to tell her everything he found.

“The whole place is bugged!” she yells cutting Victor off before he could finish telling her whatever big news he started to share.

His jaw drops and his eyes go wide; “Holy shit.”

“I know,” she says with a nod. “And I’m talking the whole nine yards, here, Vic. Mics, cameras, hidden motion sensors; all of it. I found over 20 in the library alone.”

“You know what this means, Ki?”

Kilo nods again and sits in one of the black leather bucket chairs on the other side of the oak desk. It was the last thing they ever thought possible, but, it had to be true. This never happened to them before and she doesn’t know what to do. Kilo sighs and thinks for a few minutes but she comes up with nothing.

She looks to Victor but he doesn’t have any answers.

So, Kilo does the only thing that she can in this situation. Tapping her ear comm. she calls Sierra. She bites her bottom lip hoping that their leader answers as quickly as possible. No, scratch that, she just wants Sierra to answer no matter how long it takes. Kilo doesn’t want to take this information to the team’s handler. She can’t. Luckily Sierra does.

This better not be another call saying you’re hungry. I’m not taking time to buy you food, Kilo.

“Somebody out there is on to our guy.”