#cats fanfiction

[margo-mania]

hey i wrote a thing :3

#writing #mangocanwrite #cats the musical #tuggoffelees #cats fanfiction #my first fanfiction #that i've been proud of at least

[naturepointstheway]

The Mute and the Maine (Cats the musical fanfic, based on the late ‘80s/early 90s Zurich Misto)

The following piece of Tuggoffelees fiction was inspired by a post I saw of a gifset of Lindsay Chambers’ Mistoffelees who was completely mute, and was pretty much an outcast among the Jellicles. In said gifset (and recording of the performance), Lindsay’s Mistoffelees points to himself while snuggling next to Old Deuteronomy when Munkustrap says “Jellicle choice” implying some dark thoughts. In the recording itself, it also looks like one of the other cats swats Misto’s hand away and ruffles his chest a little, and I’m assuming it was Demeter, though it may have been some other cat, but I’ll stick with Demeter as she’s coupled with Munkustrap. I’ve also combined Zurich’s mute Misto with that little bit of impish side we see in later Mistos, like Jacob Brent’s in 1998, but really only shows around Tugger. Zurich!Misto can have a mischievous side to him, as a treat. (I think Lindsay Chambers played him a little more like that in later productions anyway--definitely wasn’t mute in his later Misto years.)

This fic turned into a BEAST at over 5500 words, so therefore, more under the keep reading!

After seeing how Mistoffelees had used his powerful abilities to bring back their beloved Old Deuteronomy, Tugger naturally had assumed then that the other tribe members would treat Misto better, that they would open up more to him, that they would accept him more as a part of the Jellicle family. Tugger had always felt that, more than any other cat, Mistoffelees ought to have always deserved all the acceptance he could get--even though he himself had grown up with him all his life, not caring that he was mute (though his purrs could be loud), and just accepting the small black cat as he was. If Mistoffelees’ bringing back Old Deuteronomy was enough for even Munkustrap to fully accept him as part of the family, then surely it would be enough for most--if not everyone--else.

For the next while, it appeared that, indeed, everyone had fully accepted Misto into the family--with Munkustrap’s attitude changing the most from before. Munkustrap had always been a very firm-speaking leader around everyone, including Tugger himself, but he had always been especially stern, even harsh, toward Mistoffelees.

But ever since that night, Munkustrap’s attitude toward Misto improved for the better, much to Tugger’s happiness. Munkustrap, along with Demeter, was always somewhere nearby, as if to make sure Mistoffelees was safe, and he would be quick to chide any other cats--including Tugger--for startling Misto with sudden loud noises or high-pitched screeching.

“Tell your fans to tone down the screeching when Misto’s around, Tugger,” Munkustrap chided him at one point when Etcetera had spotted Tugger and screeched in excitement, causing Misto nearby to start spinning around in stressed circles. “Especially Etcetera.” 

Tugger had doubted Etcetera would listen, and he was right: even after telling her a couple times, she still squealed at the sight of him even with Misto in the same room, causing the poor cat to stress stim again. Jemima wasn’t a screecher anyway, and Electra at least made sure she toned it down when needed, as did Victoria. He still showed off like the rockstar cat he was around them, but only if Misto and Etcetera weren’t in the same room together.

Speaking of Demeter, she was also never too far away either, and while Tugger chalked that up to it being mostly because she was Munk’s mate, he had a little inkling she was looking out for Misto too. If both Tugger and Munkustrap were apart from Misto, Demeter somehow magically appeared from around some corner to settle herself somewhere where she keep Misto company as he refined his magic. While Misto didn’t mind Munkustrap or Demeter hanging out nearby, it did not slip Tugger’s notice that whenever he was around, Misto’s magic always sparked brighter, happier, stronger, and his heart always skipped a beat or fluttered when they made eye contact, even for the briefest of a glance in the middle of a conjuring turn.

Nor did it slip Tugger’s notice that the moon had barely begun to reach its waning crescent phase before everyone, save for Munkustrap, Demeter, the kittens, and himself, began ignoring Mistoffelees again as they had before, the hype of his conjuring turns and magic now fading away as they focused on other things in their normal cat lives. It wasn’t like he didn’t expect things to eventually go back to normal (or as normal as one could after the trauma of Macavity’s attack), but still, it stung--really, really stung harder than he had thought, that most of the Jellicles eventually went back to ignoring Mistoffelees. All his hopes that finally, finally the others would fully accept Mistoffelees were mostly dashed--of course they only treated him nicely for a short while before moving on. Mistoffelees wasn’t impressing them anymore with giant feats of magic that wore him out so much he had slept from sunrise to sunset the next day (which had worried Tugger at the time), and because he couldn’t (or maybe he didn’t want to) speak, no one had the patience to get to try to know him better, learn how he communicated in other ways.

All his life, whenever he hadn’t been teasing or pushing Misto around, or off flirting with the other cats, Tugger had taken note of how the small cat would communicate. And communicate he could! His purr when content had a different timbre and tempo to when he was stressed. The way he would paw at his right ear when embarrassed, but at his left ear when plotting some impish scheme to hide the humans’ cutlery or make off with their balls of yarn when they weren’t looking (naturally, Tugger would join in when he could). Mistoffelees was not a touchy-feely type, which was fine by Tugger, who was not one for spontaneous cuddly sessions, not even with the humans (unless they were busy cooking or sewing or whatever). But he knew that if Misto sought him out for a nuzzle into his thick mane, it meant the other cat was deeply, deeply upset or distressed by something or other. Tugger would drop anything (and anyone) if it meant he could provide some comfort to Mistoffelees when the latter needed it. Nuzzly-mode Mistoffelees meant time to be there just for him, and let him have the physical comfort he needed. Except only a few times, back when they were full strangers and he had yet to learn anything about Mistoffelees’ communication style, Tugger never initiated any touching first, always letting Misto seek it on his own terms.

So it should have struck him as odd that from the time the Jellicle Moon had waned to its crescent phase, that there was nary a nuzzle, spin, or even any magical practice in sight. It wasn’t unusual for Misto to have a day where he just didn’t do any of that, but several days in a row?

His concern only increased when one morning, Demeter approached him, voice low in a near whisper as she asked to speak with him somewhere private. She didn’t even crack a smile when he joked didn’t she hate him, remembering her having swiped at him once or twice when he got a little too rowdy around her. But all ideas of light-hearted jokes and banter went out immediately when she immediately got to talking about something weighing on her about Mistoffelees--she only had to voice the first syllable of the magical cat’s name, and he was all ears, hanging on to her every word. When she made him swear to talk to Mistoffelees soon, Tugger’s promise was fierce in its sincerity. 

Demeter’s right. I need to be the one to talk to him.

***

A couple evenings later, Demeter’s words still somewhere in the background of his thoughts, Tugger found himself looking around the house for Mistoffelees; knowing him, he would likely turn up right behind him out of nowhere, or be in the last place he’d looked. He perked his ears, trying to listen for purring, though he knew even that wasn’t always reliable. After all, a shadow of a purr could lilt by the fireplace or a bedside or inside an empty box for hours after he had long left.

Therefore, he wasn’t surprised when he finally spotted Mistoffelees resting on the rug next to the roaring fireplace, the sky already having grown fully dark with stars poking their studded eyes out into the night.

I swear, I circled back here three times! And he was here all along!

“Of course you’re right there, Mistoffelees!” Tugger marvelled in a booming voice, making the cat flinch, glaring at Tugger for a moment. “I’m sure I looked for you here several times in the last, what, ten minutes?”

Mistoffelees tilted his head back a little, nose in the air, giving an air of aloofness.

“Don’t mind if I sit down with you by the fire too,” Tugger said as he helped himself to a comfortable spot on the rug next to Mistoffelees. “Way warmer in here than outside.”

Mistoffelees gave no indication of a reaction, just turning his attention back to the fireplace, front paws crossed over each other on the rug. His eyes drew half-closed, as though being sent to slumber by the crackling warmth of the fireplace. Tugger wondered how he had never noticed the way his fur seemed to glow a soft amber as the light from the flames caressed him. Or how the firelight made the edges of Mistoffelees’ ears appear framed by a border of pale light. The lazy way his ears turned this way and that, flickering every so often perhaps with some thought or reflection.

He couldn’t help but smile, warmth in his voice, when he spoke again, much quieter this time.

“Misto, there’s so much I love about you.”

Mistoffelees tilted his head, ears swiveling in his direction, side-eyeing him like he didn’t quite believe what Tugger was saying.

“Yeah, yeah, look at me, the great Rum Tum Tugger, getting all soppy.”

A rattle of quiet amusement interrupted Mistoffelees’ purring, turning his head to fully look at him.

“But y’know, apparently one song wasn’t enough so...time to get soppy. So shut up and listen.” Tugger tossed a wry look in Misto’s direction to show he was saying the last part lightly. “At least you don’t think I’m a terrible bore, like Munk does, right?”

Another rattle of amusement,, one of Mistoffelees’ front paws reaching to Tugger’s face.

“What’s so funny? Is it the terrible bore thing?”

Mistoffelees bapped Tugger on the nose, a pleased smirk on his face.

“I’m not a terrible bore, c’mon!”

Another bap on his nose, before Mistoffelees withdrew his paw.

“Thanks for the support, Misto,” Tugger remarked with an eyeroll. “Glad to know I’m a giant bore.”

The small black cat rolled over on his side, front paws patting thin air before him, a cheeky glint still in his green eyes. Tugger stretched out his body on the rug, crossing his front paws over each other.

“Sooo...here it goes. The soppiest Tugger you saw--thank god only you are here.” Tugger looked around quickly. “At least...I hope so.”

Mistoffelees rolled over so he was sitting in a similar fashion to Tugger, paws crossed, nose tilted a little up in the air, eyes not quite meeting Tugger’s. The classic aloof Misto act. Tugger fought not to roll his eyes again.

Everlasting, I love you so much, Misto.

He didn’t want to think how different his life would be without this ridiculous magical cat. It meant more to him beyond words that Tugger was the only cat Mistoffelees was so relaxed and most like himself around, at least in private.

“Okay, get ready, because I’m probably gonna be here all night.”

Mistoffelees relaxed even more on the rug, head lowering to rest on his crossed paws, eyes never leaving Tugger.

“I could go on about your magic, the way your fur sparkles sometimes, the conjuring turns, everything, but...that’s a big thing. There’s lots of the small things I love, you know?”

A soft purr from Mistoffelees in response, as though telling him he was listening.

“Small things, it’s the small things!”

C’mon, Tugger, you can think of something! Don’t just repeat the same thing again like a Pollicle!

“Like...you know, when I sniff and sneer at my food bowl because I don’t like whatever the humans gave me...only to come back a few hours later to find someone who looks, acts, and sounds just like a certain Mistoffelees having cleaned my bowl already. In fact, I think I see that very cat before me now.”

Mistoffelees sat up on all fours, looking around the room as though searching for that very cat Tugger spoke of. Who could that cat be? After a few seconds of pretending to search the room for this mystery feline, Mistoffelees resumed his relaxed position, front paws tucked under, looking like the very picture of innocence.

“I think I seem to recall that cat’s name now too,” Tugger continued in his declaration, “Something that sounds a lot like...Mistoffelees. Isn’t that odd?”

An ear quirked, as though Mistoffelees was agreeing just how odd that really was, considering each Jellicle cat had a name no other cat had or would ever have.

“As a matter of fact, I can tell you from experience that this cat, so named Mr Mistoffelees, has also, on occasion, swiped a pawful of a second helping from my bowl while I was eating it.”

Mistoffelees’ left ear twitched, twice.

He knows what he did, alright.

Tugger couldn’t help a little grin. “And of course you’re not sorry about it at all, are you?”

The purr-laughter rattled loud from Mistoffelees’ ribcage.

“Just as I thought.”

Tugger tried to come up with something else.

“Your purrs? They’re a whole conversation sometimes, y’know? You’re a mute, but damn are you able to say a lot without saying a word. You have a purr for every emotion--angry, haughty, overjoyed, content, upset, scared--yeah a purr for everything.”

He was sure that the short purr from Misto now was one of surprise, with a hint of doubt.

“All your purrs!” Tugger waved a paw dramatically in the air. “Other cats who can’t be bothered to learn how you communicate? Not worth your time.”

Yep, that was definitely an unsure purr again.

“Sure, okay, I’ve been an ass at times, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t bothered to learn how you communicate.” Tugger lowered himself to the ground, head on his own crossed paws. “And y’know, now you’ve shown what you’re capable of, I’ll say even the kittens keep asking me about you.”

Misto raised his head quickly off his paws, blinking at Tugger.

“Yeah, Jemima? Victoria? Electra? Even Etcetera.”

He saw the grimace on Misto’s face, turning his head to paw at his right ear.

“Yeah, I know, but I think she’ll be willing to keep it down. But if you don’t feel comfortable around her...”

He saw Misto relax again a little at that.

“I’d say even Munkustrap would be willing to learn, and Demeter.”

Misto’s ears perked up in surprise.

“Yeah, Demeter was a surprise, but...”

Tugger hesitated.

Should I tell Mistoffelees what Demeter told me now?

A quirk of Misto’s head to one side told Tugger plain as day he was waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“Um...” Tugger quickly shook himself off. “Well, she is interested in learning too.”

Misto narrowed his eyes at him, clearly not fooled by his hurried ending to his sentence.

“You know what else I love about you?” Tugger declared, changing the subject. “You never fail to be amused by me getting stuck in bureau drawers--even though you can easily magic me out of them, you always just have to sit and pretend not to know what to do before helping. It never gets old.”

Tugger was definitely not telling him he sometimes deliberately got himself stuck in a drawer just to cheer up Mistoffelees if the black cat was having a low mood sort of day. It did not amuse the humans, but it certainly amused Mistoffelees, and that, for him, was enough.

“I know you’re about to cause mischief when you chitter and twitch your ears and whiskers.”

Mistoffelees lifted his chin as though to tell Tugger “Yeah I know. Next?”

“Then you lick your paws in a pretense of innocence when our humans find a plate or fork missing, or how did that fish paste manage to be taken out of its packaging and into your bowl without opening it. But you can’t hide that twitching ear or whiskers from me.”

Mistoffelees’ tail drew high up in the air, tip flickering, a smug acknowledgement of his sneaky little magical adventures.

He knows he’s an imp and he isn’t sorry, and just wants to have fun. And he wanted to be the Jellicle choice?!

“I swear, you’re more mischievous when you know I’m having a bad day, and your magic is that much more dramatic...” he sneaked in a cheeky little amused purr. “...than usual.”

Mistoffelees rolled his eyes, swiping a paw at Tugger, who dodged out of the way, unable to hide his mischievous smile.

“And I’ve seen you prank our humans at night by closing your eyes and moving to sit in their path, and then open your eyes, giving them a fright.”

Mistoffelees slow blinked, twice, before closing his own eyes, and if it wasn’t for the glow of the fireplace, even Tugger would not have been able to see him.

“Sometimes, Mr Mistoffelees, you even prank me by doing it to me too!” Tugger quickly added, “And no, that doesn’t count. The fireplace is lit.”

Mistoffelees opened one eye, then the other, looking disappointed--or at least, pretending to be so, if his amused purr hadn’t given him away. 

“When you’re sleeping all curled up, sometimes your paws bat at your tail, and I swear every time that it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen.” Tugger shifted a little closer to the fireplace, and Mistoffelees did the same, lying back down on his belly next to him. “If it’s a really, really cold night, and the fire goes out, I’ll wake up to you just nuzzled all up in my mane, and then I can’t move.”

A hint of concern in Misto’s eyes, Tugger responding with a little assuring purr.

“...because I have the cutest magical cat sleeping on me, and I don’t want to disturb him. So I don’t move. And you know I don’t care for a cuddle--so that’s saying something.” Tugger paused for a moment. “Honestly? You’re the exception to my cuddle rule. I can’t say no to my Misto.”

The purring stopped a moment, and Mistoffelees’ expression lightened with hope, but an unsure one. He unsheathed a claw and pointed at Tugger, then at himself, then at his own heart.

“If you’re asking if I meant what I said with “my Misto”, yeah. I meant it. I mean, I mean it. Now, and forever.”

Mistoffelees batted at an ear with the same paw, claws sheathing and unsheathing. His face was turned away enough that Tugger couldn’t quite see what he was thinking, but it didn’t seem entirely happy either.

“I mean...”

Was that too much?

“I do mean it, but if that was too much for you to hear at once...”

Mistoffelees turned his eyes back on Tugger, with a little assuring purr.

“You’re okay that I said that?”

A little smile and nod, Mistoffelees tucking his front paws under his front again, looking toward the fireplace. To any other cat who hardly knew him, they would imagine he looked relaxed and content, eyes half-closed.

Only, Tugger knew better: the tell-tale flickering of the tip of his tail and twitching ears told him the other cat was not in an entirely happy mood. He batted at his ears, looking too tensed for a cat that would otherwise look relaxed to another feline who didn’t know him as well as Tugger. Which was virtually every other cat except Tugger, who suspected that even their humans knew Mistoffelees less well than he did.

He really didn’t want to dwell on that night of the Jellicle Ball again, and all that Macavity had done, but Tugger knew deep down he had to have this conversation with Mistoffelees. He didn’t want to do it, and he wouldn’t have had Demeter and Munkustrap not insisted. Demeter, who obviously had a soft spot for Mistoffelees despite only having known him since the Jellicle Ball, was especially insistent on Tugger doing it as soon as he could, no matter how hard it was. She feared Mistoffelees would try to do something and she didn’t want to live with the regret of wishing she’d done something. When Tugger had suggested she talk to Mistoffelees, she had said “No, you know him better than any of us, than all of us, even Munkustrap. Please do this, most of all for yourself. You really don’t want that regret. You can’t have back who you love once they’re off this earth for good.”

He’d pointed to himself. To himself. Demeter’s words echoed again in his head. He was asking to be the Jellicle choice.

“To himself...”

Only when Mistoffelees looked at him with a questioning purr did Tugger realise he’d said that aloud. Well, it seemed he had no other choice but to carry on. He hoped he wouldn’t mess it up. He’d never had to do this before, ever, for anyone, not least of all, Mistoffelees.

How do I even start?

Outside, Tugger maintained the pose of an adult, but on the inside, every bit of his being was curling into a kitten crawl, trying to hide away in the warm past when he had never thought anyone he loved could think this way.

“What a night it was, wasn’t it?”

Another questioning, confused blink and purr.

“The Jellicle Ball we just had a little time ago.”

A flicker of reproach in Mistoffelees’ eyes before he pointed at himself, then at Tugger, and made a shoving motion before pointing back at himself again.

“What? What are you talking about?”

He cringed--that came out a little too sassy sounding.

A sharp hiss of frustration before Mistoffelees stood up on all paws, now seeming to mimic someone coming in with a loud entrance before shoving something out of his way.

Oh. OH.

He had thought he’d only pushed Mistoffelees aside gently on entrance, but it seemed it had been much harsher than he’d meant for it to be. Now he could recall the spinning cat in a cockroach costume, and how he had shoved him out of his way.

“Hey, you know I can be like that sometimes, right?”

Mistoffelees tensed again, arching his back a little, but no hairs were standing along his spine and his tail was still its normal size.

“I didn’t hurt you--”

Claws unsheathed, and the hairs were definitely standing on his back, but the deep hurt in Mistoffelees’ eyes gave Tugger pause.

Okay, Tugger, maybe you did hurt him.

“Are...are you hurt?” Tugger looked along Mistoffelees’ body, as though he might see some damning evidence on his fur or something.

A long, tense moment passed as Mistoffelees just stared at him, but then, his back straightened out again, his fur less spiky along his spine, and claws slowly sheathed again. But then a paw went out to Tugger, then back to himself, a claw poking out as he held it over his heart, lowering his ears and bowing his head, tail drawing between his back legs.

Tugger didn’t need mind-reading powers to know what that meant.

How was it that knowing he’d hurt Mistoffelees emotionally more painful than if it had just been physical? Tugger was the last cat anyone could accuse of being overly affectionate, but right now, all he wanted to do was pull Mistoffelees into a hug, tell him he won’t do it again now he understood how much it had hurt whenever Tugger had been mean toward him. In the past, Tugger had usually teased or shoved Mistoffelees in jest, and he’d assumed that Mistoffelees didn’t mind because he showed no overt demand for him to stop. But now...he might as well have shouted “stop that!” despite being mute. And Mistoffelees was well within his right to do so.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t--I wasn’t thinking. But, it doesn’t mean I don’t care at all. I like to think you know I care. You know, right?”

Mistoffelees settled back on the rug again, curling up his back legs, eyes fixed on the fireplace. Tugger was about to speak again when the flames began to take the shape of a small cat spinning in what was clearly his signature Conjuring Turn. His heart skipped a beat when other flames took shape of a Maine Coon, obviously Tugger himself, looking on with admiration. It lasted a few short seconds, but it told him all that he needed to know. Even Mistoffelees seemed to understand that Tugger wouldn’t have encouraged and believed in him wholly, and with song, if he hadn’t cared, let alone believed Mistoffelees could bring back Old Deuteronomy. 

Tugger swallowed, remembering the terror that was Macavity--he still haunted his dreams at night, not that he would ever tell anyone, except maybe Mistoffelees. The kittens, no doubt, were traumatised the worst on watching Macavity kidnap their beloved leader, before fighting and knocking out Munkustrap. That’s what Demeter had told him anyway, because of course the kittens wouldn’t confide in him--he was the handsomest tomcat in the tribe who wouldn’t care to listen to a scared kitten, apparently. Munkustrap was the one to go to if they needed a cuddle and reassuring words when scared, not Tugger.

He shook himself out of this train of thought, forcing himself back into the present, back into the same room as Mistoffelees, in front of a warm fireplace. Speaking of Mistoffelees...

“Macavity was terrifying that night--made my skin crawl. I still can’t believe he...did what he did--to Munkustrap, to Old Deuteronomy.” Tugger paused for a few seconds to compose himself. “And, Mistoffelees, few things terrify me more than him. I can think of two right now.” Tugger forced himself to take a deep breath, keeping a calm appearance before moving on. “You know what one of those are?”

Mistoffelees shook his head slightly.

“A world without Mistoffelees in it. Without you in it.” A shiver went through Tugger at the mere voicing of such a world. “That’s scarier to me than all the Macavities in the world. And not just because no one would have been able to bring Old Deuteronomy back.” Tugger picked at the rug with his front claws, sheathing and unsheathing and sheathing again. “It wouldn’t be the same without you around. Even if you agree with Munk I’m a terrible bore.”

He studied Misto’s expressions, trying to gauge what the other cat was feeling--but right now his face was unreadable, though his green eyes were fixed intent on him, hanging on to his every word.

“And we would have no magical Mister Mistoffelees, the original conjuring cat with his conjuring turns.” Tugger added, in an attempt to lighten the mood a little, “And who would get me unstuck from bureau drawers?” Tugger swept his tail around so it lay across his front paws. “Not Munkustrap I can tell you that much. He’d just roll his eyes and mutter “typical Tugger” and leave me to it.”

Mistoffelees stretched out his body on the floor, staring toward the fireplace now.

“But...”

I guess it’s now or never.

“The second scary thing? Knowing you believe the world would be better without you, knowing that you wished you were the Jellicle choice.”

The reaction from Misto was instantaneous: his whole body stiffened, claws digging into the rug, head still turned away, eyes staring more than ever at the fire. His tail whipped the rug a few times, nervous twitches and worried wags.

Here we go, Tugger. Don’t blow it.

“Demeter told me the other day she had seen you point at yourself when Munkustrap had explained to the kittens how Old Deuteronomy will make the Jellicle choice.”

Misto’s entire body was still tensed, not moving an inch, eyes staring into the fireplace.

“That’s...” Tugger tried and failed to find the words to say. Instead, he went to lay next to Mistoffelees, paws crossed before him. “Mistoffelees, have you...had you...”

Mistoffelees slowly turned an ear toward him, waiting for the question in its full form.

“Tell me you haven’t spent your whole life thinking this, Misto.”

Just voicing the idea of it broke his heart, wishing he could somehow shake sense into Mistoffelees, make him see that he deserved love, deserved to be here, deserved to show the world his magnificent magic and big heart. And then, another thought--one that made him dig his claws into the rug just to think about it.

“Did someone tell you this? That you...should be the choice?”

Tugger was relieved to see that the answer was a no.

“Good, because I would have given them a lot of hell. I sure wouldn’t be as diplomatic as Munk.” He paused, thinking back to when he had shown everyone in the junkyard what Mistoffelees could do with his magic, having faith all the way through that he could bring Old Deuteronomy back, even though neither had any idea if it would even work at all.

“When you brought back old Deuteronomy...did you believe it then? That you should be the...” he grimaced, steeling himself. “Jellicle choice?”

Mistoffelees pawed at the rug, ears flickering back and forth, along with the tip of his tail. It seemed to Tugger like he was torn between two answers, and it hit him how many things Mistoffelees must surely been longing to say in his brain but could not speak. 

“Yes, but also no?”

Mistoffelees whipped his head to look at Tugger with a little start, eyes round. A few seconds passed before he nodded at Tugger. But, eventually, slowly, there was a nod of confirmation, ears flattening a little too in some mire of emotions Tugger could only mostly guess at: sadness, regret, guilt perhaps. Maybe even a little bit of grief in there too.

“Complicated, huh?”

Mistoffelees looked at Tugger as if to say “What do you think?”

“Well, I for one am glad you’re still here--and, yeah, this is gonna sound uncharacteristically sappy coming from me, but a world without you and your magic would feel way lonelier.”

Mistoffelees tilted his head, questioning.

“I know what you’re thinking--I have Bombalurina, Etcetera, Electra, Plato...you name ‘em. But none of them are you. None of them could replace you.”

Mistoffelees looked down at his own paws.

“Even if you didn’t have your magic powers, no one else can be you. Seriously, sometimes it’s great to come back to this house and know you’ll be here somewhere--purring away here at the fireplace, practicing your conjuring turns on the rooftop, or annoying our humans with some mischief. No one else can be Mister Mistoffelees except Mister Mistoffelees himself.”

A long silence interrupted by the crackling of the fireplace passed, Tugger losing himself in his own world, perhaps the one he feared, the one where Mistoffelees didn’t exist. No conjouring turns, no mischievous cat nipping forks and helping him out of dresser drawers, no purring black ball of fluff next to the fireplace, no dancing on the rooftops, no-one to bring back their beloved Old Deuteronomy.

To think of a world without Mistoffelees...it hurt.

It hurt.

He must have lost himself in his thoughts more than he realised, as he nearly flinched when he felt a nuzzling under one of his front paws, looking down in time to see Mistoffelees lying down with his back pressed against Tugger’s belly, purring fiercely. He couldn’t help but stare down at Mistoffelees snuggling up against him, with no tension in him at all.

He never does that. Ever!

He hesitated to wrap his paw closer around Mistoffelees or curl his own body around him, lest he triggered the cat’s sensitivity to touch. Tugger never tried to touch Mistoffelees, only letting him come to him when he needed a little nuzzle or paw bap of encouragement.

But this. Snuggling with his back pressed up against him?

Well, that was a first, and it wasn’t like Mistoffelees was tense either--on the contrary. And his purring! Tugger would not be surprised if Mistoffelees’ purring could be heard on the roof right now. He ached to pull Mistoffelees to him, but kept his paw steady, knowing full well to ask first.

“Misto?” he whispered. “Is...is it okay if I hug you with my paw? And curl myself around you?”

One of Mistoffelees paws wriggled free enough to bap at his larger paw, pulling it down as though to confirm that yes, it was fine for Tugger to pull him into a cuddle. Consent granted, Tugger wrapped his free front paw around Mistoffelees, curling his body around him too, so they fit together like two spoons. It was a strange feeling, having Mistoffelees so close to him, snug and warm, and without feeling any tension in the other cat’s body.

Then, to Tugger’s utter surprise, he had the sensation of a small tongue licking his paw--was Misto grooming him? He had never groomed Tugger before! What a curious night this was turning out to be, not that Tugger was complaining. He’d privately always hoped that one day Mistoffelees would be comfortable enough to come to him for a close cuddle session, but he wasn’t expecting this either.

“Are...are you...?”

The grooming stopped quickly, and Misto tensed as though waiting for a rebuke.

“Don’t stop. I just--you’ve never groomed me before. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Mistoffelees resumed a hesitant lick or two on Tugger’s paw, and regained confidence when assured it was okay. Tugger’s heart was sure to burst, and he wasn’t sure now whose purrs were louder: his, or Misto’s. Either way, combined, surely they could be heard on the roof above the fireplace now.

“I love you, Misto, more than you think you know or believe, and I’ll keep telling you this until you believe it. And even after you believe it, I’ll say it anyway.”

Misto’s response was a little headbutt against his paw.

“Aaand that’s enough of soppy Tugger for the night,” he declared, trying to sound as Tugger-ish as he could, but his eyes were starting to feel drowsy. It was so warm sitting by the fireplace, with Mistoffelees huddled up against him. And grooming him too! He’d never done that before! He knew this meant there was a significant shift in their relationship, and for the better, and Tugger wouldn’t have it any other way. Now the room was quiet again, except for the crackle of wood, whispers of flames, and their loud purring. He couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer, not with the deep feeling of drowsiness and warmth surrounding him. He bent down his head to very gently nuzzle Mistoffelees before resting his head back on the floor, eyes closed.

“Goodnight, Misto...”

END

#Cats the musical #Cats fanfiction #Tuggoffelees #the rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees

[mistocore]

prrrrt new chapter after like a year of not updating haha anyway back to the void i go

#cats #cats musical #cats the musical #cats 1998 #cats 2019 #cats fanfiction #fanfiction #my art #my writing #black sheep

[circuscountdowns]

#cult of the lamb #This took so long I no longer like it ahhh #I think for a while these two can only talk about their problems in a confessional ass way instead of face to face. #The cat’s upset reality doesn’t match the fanfiction in his head!!! Lambbbb! #cotl art

[obsessedwithceleste]

The Cat Chronicles

(Or five times Theodore Nott *accidentally* stole your cat)

Theodore Nott x reader

word count: 5.9k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

1

The first time your cat went missing, you didn’t think entirely too much of it. You knew many of the Hogwarts cats liked to gather behind the herbology greenhouse where a particularly plentiful patch of catnip grew. However, Gladys was never one to miss meal time, and when the time came to 30 minutes after her usual feeding time, you knew something was amiss. With a sigh, you made your way out to your common room where you saw Cho sitting by the fireplace with several other of your class mates.

“Has anyone seen Gladys wandering about? She missed feeding time and I haven’t seen her much today,” you say as you approach the group.

“I haven’t, sorry y/n. We’ll keep a look out for her though,” Cho tells you.

You let out a small sigh of disappointment.

“Thanks Cho,” you say before heading out to wander the halls of the castle, hoping to find your elusive, black cat.

You start out by the greenhouse where you see a whole gaggle of cats, but none with the sleek black coat that identified your furry friend. You then walked around the grounds a bit more with no luck, before moving on to the kitchens where several of the house elves promised to keep an eye out for the small black cat. You even checked several empty class rooms before coming to a stop outside the library. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Twenty minutes later, you were still completely out of luck. Tired and frustrated, you were about to call it a night when a loud chorus of voices turn down the hall. You look to see who it was and find a hoard of Slytherin boys making their way towards you. You recognized them of course, but didn’t exactly know them. What you did know however, was the mop of black fur one of the taller boys in the back of the group was holding.

“Gladys!” You exclaim, rushing towards the group of boys.

Their eyes all turn towards you and at the sound of her name, the fiesty black cat springs from the arms of the boy and runs towards you.

With a large grin of relief, you scoop the cat up into your arms, feeling her light purr as you scratch behind her ears. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you look up to see the group of boys still staring at you and your cat.

“Um, thanks, for finding my cat,” you say awkwardly, squeezing the cat to your chest lightly. The tall, brunette boy who had just been holding your cat only nods silently before turning and walking off, the rest of the group following, except one.

“Hey, sorry about Theo. He means well, really. Man really likes cats, but doesn’t have one of his own, so he sometimes makes friends with cats wandering the halls. We’ve all told him that he should probably stop, ah, borrowing, people’s cats, but he can’t seem to resist. Names Enzo by the way,” the boy says with a friendly smile, extending his hand out.

You take his hand, shaking it cautiously before a smile creeps it’s way onto your face.

“Thank you, Enzo.” You say, hesitating a moment before adding, “You know, Gladys is a picky bitch. Theo must be a pretty okay person if she let him carry her around.” You tell him before disappearing with your cat.

2

The second time your cat went missing, you honestly didn't realize she was missing at all. Theo had found his way down to the kitchens about a week after the original cat incident. That's how he thought of it anyway. The kitchens were one of his favorite places to lurk as not many students knew of the secret entrance behind one particular painting of a fruit bowl. The real attraction that often drew the brunette boy to the hidden sanctuary however, was the constant stream of cats that often visited the house elves who happily offered up dishes of cream and other treats. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a particularly populated bowl of milk, Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar set of glowing yellow orbs.

"Hello there, Gladys," he said hesitantly, decently sure that was the name called out by the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had stolen the cat from him a few nights ago.

Well, stolen in this case was rather relative, as the cat was technically hers, he supposed. Hearing her name however, the little black cat pranced over, nuzzling her head affectionately against his leg with a soft purr. Picking the sweet creature up into his arms, Theo stroked her soft fur, thinking back to his encounter with her owner, a grimace reaching his face.

He had been a downright bloody idiot. That was for certain. Theo was not usually one to be rendered incompetent by the mere presence of a pretty girl. No. That was meant more for Enzo. Or even Draco sometimes. But never Theodore. In fact, Theo had quite the reputation for his tendency to sleep around which made the idea of his mind completely blanking at the sight of this cat's owner all the more embarrassing. Matteo had made fun of him ruthlessly later that night. What had he said again? Right. Absolutely nothing. Just nodded like a right dunce.

The only solace Theo had gotten from that night was when Enzo pulled him aside quietly and told him what the pretty girl from earlier had said about him. "He must be pretty okay." It was hardly a compliment, but after the fool he'd made of himself, it really was the best Theo could hope for. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Theo once again focused on the little beast snuggling contentedly in his arms, carefully scratching behind the ears, a spot he'd found the cat quite liked.

The sound of the entrance painting swinging open startled Theo; and he honestly wasn't sure if he was elated, or absolutely mortified that the very girl who had been previously plaguing his thoughts was stepping through into the kitchens.

You honestly weren't entirely surprised to see the boy from a few nights ago sitting on the floor, cradling your cat, when you entered the kitchens. After Enzo had admitted to you that the handsome brunette had a soft spot for the castle's feline population, you figured it was only a matter of time until you bumped into him here considering it was a hot spot for the four legged beasts.

"Hello. See you've managed to find my cat again," you say, offering a small smile to the boy in front of you. After your encounter with that particular group of Slytherins, you did a bit of asking around, finding that Theodore Nott, while a bit known for his escapades with the female population, was actually one of the more talented wizards of your year. And one of the more level headed. (But in comparison to Draco and Matteo, you weren't exactly sure how much credit to give him there.)

The boy blinks up at you once before seeming to find his voice.

"She's a sweet little thing," he says finally, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but you.

You cautiously move forward, more worried about spooking the boy in front of you than the cats. Sitting down, you allow a pretty little Siamese kitten to wander into your lap. Gladys hisses with jealousy, but remains snuggled in the arms of the boy.

"She really seems to like you. Bit surprising. She's really not much of a people person," you tell him.

Theo nods at you, an action you found yourself growing familiar with.

"Enzo told me." He replies curtly.

You open your mouth to respond, but don't quite know how, so you let an awkward silence roll over the two of you.

"Well, I find that Gladys is a very good judge of character," you say finally.

Theo lets out a small smile at this, continuing to stroke your cat's soft fur. After that, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with Theodore continuing to shower your cat with affection while you distract the many other felines, crowding the kitchen floor.

"Theo?" you wonder finally, the question burning away at you. The boy looks up, and you find yourself getting lost in the surprisingly soft brown eyes staring back at you. Breaking from the trance with a small shiver, you ask, "If you like cats so much, why don't you have one of your own?"

Theo's eyes immediately fall, and his hand freezes mid pet, much to Gladys' dismay. A pang of guilt washes through you.

"My father isn't much of an animal person," He replies stiffly.

You give him a small nod in response before rising from the floor.

"It's getting pretty late, I should get going," you say softly. "Gladys can find her way back to the tower on her own just fine," you add when you see Theo make no move to release the cat.

Without another word, you move to open the portrait door. You enter the hall with a small smile gracing your lips as you hear his voice quietly as the door closes.

"Thank you, y/n."

He knew your name.

3

The next time Theo met Gladys was much sooner than he expected. He had left the kitchens several hours ago and was now laying in bed. The clock sitting on his bed side now read 1am. The deafening silence was about to finally lull him to sleep when an insistent scratching at the door caused his eyes to fly open. Sitting up, Theo glanced at the door warily before finally deciding to cross the room to find out what was causing the noise.

As soon as the door opened, a black shadow darted through, making a beeline for his bed. How it seemed to know exactly where it was going, Theo had no clue. Making his way silently back to his bed, careful not to wake either of his roommates, Theo was finally able to make out the dark shape of an ever familiar black cat.

"Hi there, principessa," he whispered, gently stroking the cat's ears before crawling into the bed next to it. Gladys seemed to take this as an invitation to curl up in the nook of his arm, and Theo wasn't about to object. The last thought he remembered before drifting off was how nice it would be if Gladys' pretty owner was there too.

"Theo, what the fuck."

Theo woke with a start, to the loud voice of Lorenzo Berkshire ringing out above him. His eyes opened to see the other boy hovering over his bed, a look of shocked confusion apparent on his face.

"Is that y/n's cat?" he asks, leaning down as if to get a closer look at the fluff ball still snuggled in Theo's arms.

"No way," Matteo laughs from the other side of the room. "You stole her cat again? What, is this some sick and twisted new way for you to lure girls into your bed?"

Theo launches a pillow at Matteo's head. He doesn't miss.

"You better go return that thing before y/n starts to worry," Enzo advises, going back to his own side of the room. "And maybe just ask her out while you're at it hmm?" He adds, quickly ducking behind his fourposter before Theo has the chance to send another pillow flying his way.

With a heavy sigh, Theo comes to a stop outside of what he's pretty sure is the Ravenclaw common room. He's about to raise his hand to knock, when the golden eagle head mounted to the door springs to life.

"What gets broken, without being held?" The eagle asks, blinking at him slowly.

Right. Theo knew about this. The most annoying of the common room doors because instead of a password, the bloody door required you to answer a riddle. Theo was about to turn on his heel to leave when he felt a light presence behind him.

"Hello Theo. Hello Gladys." The platinum blonde haired girl said, giving the two of them an airy nod, before turning her attention to the door. "Would it perhaps be, a promise?" she asks.

The door swings open and Theo quickly hurries after the girl, making his way up the staircase. He'd never actually been inside the Ravenclaw common room, and his breath hitched when they reached the top of the stairs. The main room really was magnificent, nothing like the dark, eerie dungeons of the Slytherin common room. Theo eyed the shelves of books lining the wall longingly.

"Her room is just there, up and to the left," the blonde girl he'd followed in says, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Y/n? Her room is just there," the girl repeats, gesturing to a door at the top of another small flight of stairs.

"Oh. thanks," Theo makes out, giving the girl a nod of gratitude.

"Name's Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood." She says whimsically before floating off.

With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, Theo makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on the door. Gladys lets out a meow of protest. Absolutely nothing could have prepared Theo for what was on the other side of the door. He felt his throat go completely dry as the door swung open and you stood in front of him in what was probably the shortest, skimpiest set of clothing that could possibly be considered pajamas. Theo tried not to stare, he really did, but he was only a man. A very weak and smitten man.

"Oh! There you are Gladys. I wondered where you wandered off to last night!" you say looking at your cat and then back up at Theo, and then again at your cat before looking back up at Theo expectantly. "Um. May I have my cat back?"

Theo jolts back to life, realizing he'd been staring and looks at you sheepishly.

"Sorry, don't know how this little one found me. Snuck her way into the Slytherin common room and then into my dorm. Didn't want to leave her in the halls alone, so I let her stay the night," he tells you.

You stare at the boy in shock, realizing that was the longest string of words you'd ever heard out of him.

"Wow Theodore, I'm impressed. I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk. And here I was thinking you were secretly illiterate," you say with a playful grin.

"Please," the boy scoffs. "I'm the picture of eloquence."

Interested in where this sudden burst of confidence that you didn't normally see from him had come from, you take a step back, inviting him into your room. He hesitantly accepts your invitation, bringing Gladys along with him.

"No roommates?" he asks, perching on the edge of your bed as Gladys purrs softly on his lap. At the moment, you found nothing more attractive than this man absolutely pampering your beloved pet.

"Not many Ravenclaw girls in our year, we had the option to share, but most of us opted for solo rooms. Wanted the extra privacy, I suppose," you tell him, leaning on one of the posts at the end of your bed.

Theo nods his head at this.

"I have two roommates," he shares.

"One of them happen to be Enzo Berkshire?"

Theo nods again. "And Matteo. Riddle" he adds.

You cock your head at that with a grin.

"Interesting pairing," you comment, imagining the chaos those two must bring with them.

"It never gets boring," Theo responds.

A moment of silence passes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions. And Charms. And everything really." Theo lets out finally.

You raise an eyebrow at the boy, internally screaming.

Trying to keep your cool, you tilt your head, "I hear you are too."

It's like a switch flips inside Theo.

"Well, we're obviously perfect for each other than," He replies easily, a cocky grin beginning to spread across his face. "Meet you in the library tomorrow at 7? And bring the cat."

You let out a laugh as Theo rises from the bed, gently placing Gladys down on the pillow, before going to make his way out of your dorm.

"You only like me for my cat," you joke, shifting to watch as he crosses the room to the door.

"Not just for your cat," he assures you, "I love the outfit, wear it for me more often, hmm?" he says slyly before the door thuds shut behind him.

You look down at your outfit, jaw dropping open and heat rushing to your cheeks.

4

Theo's head was pounding. Music pumped through the Slytherin common room and Theo could barely see through the crowds of people around him as he pushed his way to the circle of sofas occupied by his friends. Collapsing into a spot next to Matteo, the boy offered him another shot of who-knew-what which he quickly knocked back.

"When's that pretty little thing that's been occupying all your time gonna join us at one of our little gathering?" Matteo slurs out, gesturing to the large crowd around them.

Over the past several weeks, you and Theo had grown significantly closer; your first study date quickly becoming a daily occurrence as you found that you each were able to easily keep up with one another. Something about having a partner who was actually able to challenge you was exhilarating. From there, you found yourselves often seeking each other out simply for the sake of good company, Gladys largely increasing the number of these meetings.

"Don't know that Gladys would like it. Cat's aren't supposed to ingest alcohol," Theo responded, not quite drunk enough to fall for his friend's taunting.

Enzo places another shot in his hand, and Theo raises a brow at him, before knocking that one back as well.

"Did you ever ask y/n why in Salazar's name, she choose to name her cat Gladys?" Matteo asks. "If my name were Gladys, I'd being running off constantly too."

Theo thumps Matteo on the back of the head.

"You leave our cat out of this, she ain't do nothin wrong," he says, glaring at his friend.

"So now she's our cat is she?" Enzo asks, a smirk growing on his face. "Didn't know you and y/n were so serious."

"It's our cat damnit! If marrying y/n is what it takes to finally have a cat of my own, so be it," Theo says decidedly.

Enzo snorts at his clearly, very drunk friend. "Careful, or one might think you're only into her for her cat. And not the cunty kind."

Theo scowls at this. "Y/n says that all the time, but have you seen that ass? And the way she mopped the floor with Draco in potions the other day? She's perfect."

"Yeah? Why don't you go tell her that then?" Matteo says, wanting nothing more than to see a drunk Theo try to make his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

"You know what? I will. And I'll pet Gladys too." Theo states. A look of pure, intoxicated determination set on his face.

Lorenzo eyes his friend warily. While not exactly sober himself, he didn’t particularly like the look his friend was giving them.

“Aw c’mon Enz, don’t you try and be the voice of reason now,” Matteo drawls, sensing the hesitation coming from his friend. “Don’t you want to meet the lil thing our beloved Theodore has been obsessing over for weeks now?”

“I’m not obsessing,” Theo snaps, taking a sip straight out of a random bottle he’d picked up from the table.

“Let’s go. I’m gonna steal her cat. For real this time.”

With a wide grin, Matteo jumps up, ready to follow his friend wherever the night took him. With a low groan, Enzo followed suit, knowing that his pair of roommates would need some sort of guidance to prevent them from walking themselves straight of the edge of the astronomy tower.

You didn’t have a lot of expectations for the quiet Friday night that you were spending curled up with a book and your cat. It was late, and after a long and stressful week, the time alone with Gladys was just what you needed to really recharge. You had spent most of your day lounging out on the lawn next to the Black Lake with Theodore, studying with and harassing the boy. A small smile crept onto your face, remembering the way his brown curls had floated about in the soft breeze.

You really hadn’t expected for the two of you to become so close, so quickly, but you weren’t complaining. You’d grown quite fond of the boy, especially once he started opening up a bit more. You’d initially thought that he was a man of very few words, but quickly learned he was in fact very sharp witted and even a bit snarky at times. Time spent with him had easily become your favorite part of the day and was something you were constantly looking forward to.

A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you were sitting, Gladys letting out a yowl of protest.

You quickly cross the room and open the door to find a very miffed looking Cho, a frown imbedded on her face.

“Sorry to bother, but could you please come get your boy under control? He’s upsetting the portraits.” She says.

You blink once. Then again.

“Sorry?”

“Your Slytherin fellow? He’s out in the corridor with two of his friends harassing the door,” she explains, turning to lead you down the spiral staircase.

You’re not even halfway down when you begin to hear the voices.

“Who in the bloody hell would want to be in Ravenclaw with this blast-ended skewt ass looking-“

“Matteo you can’t curse out the door.”

“I’ll curse at the bloody door if I want to bloody curse at it.”

You grimace, looking at Cho who looks back with a similarly displeased facial expression.

“Sorry bout them. I’ll take it from here,” you tell her when you reach the bottom.

With a slight nod, she turns to retreat back up the stairs. With a sigh, you push the door open, almost taking out Matteo who had been leaning on it for support.

“Hi amore, fancy seeing you here,” Theo slurs, a grin taking over his face at the sight of you.

Enzo leans against a pillar, face in hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. You could smell the alcohol on all of them.

“Hi Theodore. Are you sober?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“I’m moderately functional,” he replies with a lopsided smile.

“I’m taking that as a no,” you say, glancing worriedly at Matteo who was currently laying spread eagle on the floor. “Let’s get you boys back to your common room.”

“I wouldn’t. Party’s not gonna end any time soon. They’ll just get more hammered and start wandering off again,” Enzo advises, head still in hands. “Like herding hippogriffs with those two.”

“And Theo hasn’t proclaimed his undying love for y/n yet!” Matteo adds.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks and Theo glowers at his friend.

“It’s okay Theo, I know he’s drunk,” you say, not certain if you were saying it more to comfort him or yourself.

Theo ignores you however, turning his attention back to the door.

“Let us in, I just want to pet the cat,” he tells the door, swaying ever so slightly.

For Salazar’s sake. Man gets absolutely wasted and just wants to pet your cat. You go to grab onto Theo to steady him, but he has other plans. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Hi,” he mumbles, picking you up just enough that your toes barely touch the ground. “I missed you. Can we see the cat now?”

Not knowing what else to do, you glance helplessly at Enzo.

“Would you be able to get Matteo up the stairs?” You ask.

“I can try. He’s a stubborn bastard though.”

You turn back to the door, knocking once. The eagle once again moves to life, glaring at the scene in front of it.

“If the day before yesterday was the 23rd, what is the day after tomorrow?” It asks crankily.

“We’re too fucking wasted for this bloody bullshit,” Matteo moans from the floor.

You try to ignore Theo’s tight grasp on your waist and Enzo prodding at Matteo with his foot before answering. “The 27th.”

The door swings open and you try your best to haul Theo through, Enzo following closely behind with a very disgruntled Matteo. Dragging the boys up the staircase feels like the most difficult task of your life as you constantly tell Matteo to lower his voice and mind his mouth while also trying to ignore the very minimal distance between yourself and Theodore. When you finally make it to the top, you rush to herd the boys into your room before slamming the door shut behind you with relief. Theo immediately stumbles over to your bed, collapsing face first in the middle and snatching Gladys into his arms.

“No roommates?” Enzo asks, looking around the room and seeing the single empty bed that you had pushed into the corner at the beginning of the year.

“No, thank Rowena. I would not want to have to explain whatever this is.” You reply, motioning to Theo and Matteo who was now wandering about the room.

“Room’s a mess. Coulda at least cleaned up a bit,” he says, poking at the various books and blank scrolls lying about.

“Had I known I would be having guests at,” you glance at the clock, “almost 2 in the morning, I’m sure I would have.” You say dryly.

Retrieving your wand from your desk, you point it at the spare bed. “Engorgio.” The wooden frame creaks as it expands until it can comfortably fit 2 people. You look at Enzo.

“Good luck with that one,” you say, almost feeling sorry for the boy as Matteo flops onto the bed with a groan.

“Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me,” he replies, gesturing to Theo who was out cold, Gladys trapped and bug eyed in his grasp. With a sigh you and Enzo each resign yourselves to your respective charge.

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a light shove. No sign of life. You give him a slightly harder shove, allowing Gladys is wriggle out of her prison. Frowning, you sit down on the edge of the bed, using most of your body weight to shove Theo to one side of the bed before sliding under the covers. Now deeming it safe, Gladys hops back into the bed, nestling into your arms happily. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel arms snaking around your waste, pulling you into the very warm chest of Theodore Nott. You freeze, holding your breath, not sure if the boy is asleep or not.

“Goodnight mi amore,” he whispers into your neck, causing the hairs to prickle.

Definitely not asleep.

“Goodnight Theodore.”

You hadn’t had any expectations for the night really, but you definitely had not expected to have multiple overnight guests who were trying to steal your cat. And you most certainly did not expect to drift off in the arms of Theodore Nott.

5

The next morning you wake up missing the usual lump of fur weighing down on your chest. Immediately you bolt upright, eyes shooting around for any sign of your furry companion before the events of last night wash over you. Enzo and Matteo are both still out cold and when you look down, your jaw drops open. Theo is fast asleep, back facing you, Gladys snoozing contentedly while cradled in his arms. Even in his sleep this absolute tosser had managed to steal your damn cat.

Careful not to wake the boys, or Gladys, you silently sneak across the room and disappear out the door. Once you’re safely out of hearing distance, you make your way quickly down the kitchens. A little known fact about the Hogwarts house elves was that many had once served in the homes of different wizarding families at one time or another. This meant that many of the elves were all too familiar with the valuable hangover potion that you sought.

Ducking in through the portrait hole, it wasn’t difficult to persuade the elves into handing over 3 glistening blue vials. You had always been kind to them, often chatting with them during your visits with the cats.

Your task complete, you made your way back to Ravenclaw tower, taking your time as you didn’t expect the boys to be up any time soon. They really had been plastered. Not even Enzo had been completely sober you recalled.

You’re just passing the entrance to the dungeons when a voice calls out.

“Hey! You!”

You’re ready to continue on your way before noticing that there was no one else in the corridor they could be referring to. You turn to see two girls you recognized as the Greengrass sisters hurrying towards you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the shorter blonde girl says when they get closer. You’re pretty sure that one is Astoria. “You’re the girl Theo has been seeing right?”

You nod your head cautiously. You knew Theo had a reputation for getting around, so if that’s what this was about, things were about to become quite awkward.

“You haven’t happened to see him or Matteo or Lorenzo, have you?” The other girl, Daphne, asks.

“Draco said he saw the three of them leave the party together last night, but no one saw them come back,” Astoria explains.

You feel yourself immediately relax. Good. At least this was something you could help with.

“You two are lucky you found me then I suppose,” you tell them, gesturing for them to follow. “The three of them tried breaking into Ravenclaw tower last night, so I let them crash in my dorm.”

“Oh Salazar. Were they trying to steal your cat? I’m so sorry. When Matteo gets drunk he has a tendency to try and egg Theo on,” Astoria frets.

You give the girls a strange look. “You know about my cat?” You ask, surprised.

“Oh sure,” Daphne replies. “Whole group does really. Boys came back one night going on about how Theo was just smitten with some Ravenclaw with a cute cat. And I can see why. You’re gorgeous by the way.”

You blush at her statement, diverting the subject away.

“The boys should probably still be asleep. I just ran down to the kitchens to get these,” you tell them, brandishing the potions you had gathered. “Once they’ve downed these, they’re all yours.”

Astoria eyes the potions with jealousy and you realize the two girls were probably decently hung over as well.

“Oh you can keep Theo, we were really just looking to collect Enzo and Matt,” Daphne laughs, giving you a sly look. You open your mouth to reply, but stop realizing you had reached your common room door.

After a few attempts, you’re finally able to solve the blasted riddle and the door swings open.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had this many Slytherins in our common room before,” you joke, leading the girls up to your room.

Pushing the door open, you’re unsurprised to see the boys still passed out.

“This must be the infamous Gladys,” Daphne whispers, quietly approaching Theo who was still clutching onto Gladys as if his life depended on it. Again you’re surprised that these girls apparently even knew the name of your cat.

The two coo at the sight of your cat, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed worthy of warranting cat theft before Astoria finally decided it was time for them to get the boys out of your hair. They migrated over to the other side of the room where Enzo and Matteo were sound asleep, leaving you to deal with Theo.

You decide the easiest route, may just be to lure Gladys away, so you fetch her food dish before accio-ing her kibble container. At the sound of her food, Gladys was up and running, darting over for her morning feast. At the sudden loss of fluffy heat, Theo groaned, rolling over, face down into the pillows. After giving Gladys her food, you move back to Theo, giving him a rough shake.

“Come back to bed principessa,” he grumbles, reaching out and flailing his arm in your general direction.

“It’s time to get up Theodore. Come on, I got you three hangover potions,” you say, waving one over his head.

“Did someone say hangover potion? Give,” Matteo demands from the other side of the room. You look over to see Daphne and Astoria sitting on the side of the bed while Matteo and Enzo were groggily waking up.

Pulling out her wand, Daphne gestured for you to toss her the potions which her magic catches easily, levitating the vials over to the other two boys. Matteo snatches one out of the air, quickly downing half before offering the other half to Astoria. Enzo does the same, giving the second half to Daphne who graciously accepts. After a moment, the four of them are looking much more awake.

“Thanks for making sure these three didn’t drown themselves in the lake,” Astoria says, once the potion had really kicked. “And sorry you’re not having more luck with that one. He’s always been a late riser.”

“You’ll be lucky to get him up in the next hour,” Enzo agrees, rising from the bed. “Thanks again y/n.”

The four of them shuffle out of your dorm, a chorus is thanks and apologies strung along until they reached the door. Even Matteo gave you a nod of gratitude. Once they were all gone, you collapse once more onto your bed.

“They finally gone?” You hear Theo ask, as he rolls over to look at you. You nod, faces so close that your noses are practically touching and you can feel small puffs of air as he exhales. “Thanks for last night. I’m sorry for trying to steal your cat.”

You let out a snort at that. “Did you know when I woke up this morning, you had turned away from me completely, and stolen my cat away from me in your sleep?” You ask with a laugh.

Theo at least has the decency to look embarrassed as Gladys joins the two of you once more.

“I should do this more often,” Theo says finally, reaching out to stroke Gladys’s fur.

“What? Get downright plastered and break into my room, or steal my cat?” You scoff.

“Sleep in your bed with you.”

You freeze, looking up to see if the boy was being serious. His eyes blink back at you unwavering.

“You can come back any time,” you tell him, snuggling your way into his chest, ready to fall back asleep in the boy’s arms.

“Will Gladys be here?”

“Oh my god, yes she will be here,” you say dramatically throwing your head back.

Theo grins down at you, leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours.

“I’m only joking amore,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your nose.

“Of course Gladys would be here, she adores me.”

“Get out of my bed.”

A/N

My biggest regret in life, is being highly allergic to cats </3

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin boys fanfiction #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire #matteo riddle #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott x y/n #harry potter universe #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott fanfiction #hogwarts houses #ravenclaw reader #Theo loves cats

[ima-ghost-art]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Cats (1998), Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Coricopat/Mungojerrie (Cats), coricopat & original female characters, mungojerrie & original female charcters, Plato & Victoria (Cats) Characters: Mungojerrie (Cats), Coricopat (Cats), Jennyanydots (Cats), Demeter (Cats), Victoria (Cats), Plato (Cats), Alonzo (Cats), Jellylorum (Cats), Original Female Character(s), Original Child Character(s), Sillabub (Cats) Additional Tags: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Minor Character Death, accidental BABIES Acquisition, Mungojerrie & Rumpleteazer are Twins (Cats), coricopat and tantomile are twins, not exactly relevant rn but its there, demeter and mungojerrie are siblings, jennyanydots is their mother, side plato and victoria, alonzo and victoria are siblings, no beta we die like griz, Angst, Twins Summary:

When Mungojerrie is left in the possession of two new-born kittens, watch him go through a whole mental crisis as he makes his way back to the safety of the junkyard and his mate.

#so i made a thing #cats the musical #cats musical #mungojerrie #coricopat #victoria cats #plato cats #jennyanydots #cats fanfiction #cats ocs #cats the musical ocs #fanfic #ao3

[todayontumblr]

Tuesday, December 19.

This cat looks like Cillian Murphy

I mean

@important-animal-images

#today on tumblr #cat #cillian murphy #oppie #black cat #cats #cats of tumblr #cute cats #cillian #oppenheimer #cillian murphy fanfiction

[jazzmasternot]

He’s a red flag but red means good fortune and love in my culture 😘

#the greeks had socrates y’all have me #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel self insert #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel memes #ms.chismosa speaks #alastor headcanons #alastor x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #fuck you alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor/reader #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #hazbin alastor x reader #cursed cat alastor

[rosemaryshelluverse]

is this it

is this the meme

#cursed cat alastor #rosemaryfollows #hazbin hotel #i write fanfiction too yall

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

As it turns out, Danny makes a pretty good leader. His little gang of homeless children has grown immensely, both from picking up strays and from assimilating other gangs into his group.

Danny might only be 10 and still figuring out his powers but dang, intangibility and flight are over powered even before you add invisibility and laser blasts. At first he regretted sneaking into the lab alone to check out the portal his parents made in this basement. Waking up in a cold alley in a city you've never heard of is a terrifying experience even without the corrupt cops trying to sell you into human trafficking, but finding out he had powers and could do whatever he wanted? That was great. It no longer mattered that adults didn't listen to him or chased him around. He could do anything now. Be anything. Take anything.

He and the people under his protection often robbed places, never banks or anything but high class restaurants and stores that usually wouldn't even let them in through the front doors. Yeah, Danny can admit most of thier robberies were because of grudges the other kids had because of how they were treated but Danny being ten thought this was fine.

The real issue was Gothams Paw Patrol (who absolutely hate being called that :3 ) they were always on thier case, Dannys especially. They kept insisting that the system could help them -Danny called bull. No one helped him or Jazz back in Amity and it was waaaay nicer that Gotham- and kept getting him and his fellow kids arrested. That didn't really matter. Anti-meta stuff never worked on him so getting himself the other kids out was no big deal.

After overhearing a conversation between Nightwing and one of the other bats a kid came into thier current secret base announcing that Nightwing was poor and the other bats weren't. This caught everyone attention. Appearently Nightwing was trying to establish himself outside of the colony cause he didn't get along great with whoever the bats super daddy was, which was fair. A lot of them were runaways for one reason or another and knew a bunch of reasons why you wouldn't want to except "free" money.

This led to them fetching Nightwings "wingdings" and batarangs instead of keeping them/selling them like they do with the others, sharing some of thier spoils with him like the groceries, jewelry, fancy clothes, ect that they stole.

Dick even catches one of the kids in his apartment in Bludhaven filling up his fridge which has him panicking about his secret id being compromised. Luckly the kids had only followed him there and didn't think to check who was on the lease or anything cause they assumed it would be a fake name or something.

Just Dick getting forcibly adopted by a child gang.

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #nightwing #dick grayson #hes getting so many heart attacks huh #danny is a farel ten year old in this #robin at some point gets sucked into the child gang and the kids demand they teach them stuff #they promise to lead him to some place stray cats like to go to give birth if he does #bribery at its finest #jason is not on the bats side with this #red hood is an ally to the children

[selineram3421]

*writing down taglist* Dodadoo, that's a lot.

Hissy Kitty

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warning!⚠

⚠ cussing, bold italics = sound affects, italics = thoughts, catnip, cat demon reader doing cat things, hehe ⚠

Husk stared with a scowl behind the bar at the red deer demon standing a little too close to you.

Its been a week and that piece of shit would not stop touching you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, grabbing your hand, and even patting you on the head. The last part he's seen the asshole do more often after noticing you purr at the action.

"You've done a wonderful job! I know Niffty appreciates the extra help.", the Radio Demon grinned.

"Are we going to do anything about the ripped up wallpaper?", you asked, looking at one of the lobby walls with peeling wallpaper.

"Don't worry about those. I'll take care of them soon.", the red demon waved it off and pat your head.

Purrrrprrrrrr

"Hands off you slimy fuck!", he threw a bottle at the deer.

Alastor easily dodged and made a tsk noise of disappointment.

"Honestly Husker, you must stop throwing bottles."

You just crossed your arms and sighed. "I'll take my break now."

Husk brought out a cup and a bottle onto the counter, opening it up and waiting for you to notice what drink it was. Not a second later you gravitated towards the bar with dilated pupils.

"Is that..", you mumbled, staring straight at the bottle.

"That's right."

The cat demon flipped off the deer, who was already walking up to the both of you.

"And what is this beverage?", he asked, tapping his fingers on the bar counter.

"Its my favorite.", you whispered, still staring at the bottle. "Husk, hurry up and pour the damn drink."

Your brother chuckled and poured the liquid into the cup, watching in amusement as you snatched it once he lifted the bottle back up.

"Enjoy you gremlin.", he said while putting away the bottle.

The cup was empty a second later.

Alastor was curious.

What is that? Why did the drink have their full attention like that? What a funny reaction.

"Can I have another?", you asked.

"No.", Husk said without a beat, cleaning the cup you used.

"Awwwwwwww!", you whined and rested your head on the counter. "Pleeeeeeeeaaase?"

"No."

Alastor felt his eye twitch at your pouting face.

"I don't see a problem with having another drink.", the deer commented.

You perked up immediately and looked over to the red dressed demon, ears pointing towards him and Husk's ears going back.

"I'm saying no for a reason.", Husk warned.

The Radio Demon rolled his eyes and had his shadow retrieve the bottle.

"I'll take care of whatever problems they cause.", he laughed and swiped the cup from the cat, pouring another drink. "Sound fair?"

"I'm gonna need that in writing."

In writing? He thought placing the filled cup on the counter. Why would that be necessary?

"Surely nothing bad could happen.", he laughed the bartender's concern off and looked towards the cup, only to find it empty.

Alastor looked towards where you were standing and also found that spot empty.

"Better start running deer boy.", Husk said taking the cup. "They have a knack for causing all kind of hell."

Before the Radio Demon could ask what the cat meant, there was a shout from the kitchen.

"WHO ATE ALL OF MA POTATO SALAD!?"

.

Alastor quickly wrote up a small deal, promising to take care of any problem you might cause while under the influence of the strange beverage.

There's nothing too serious. He thought as he went walking around the hotel to find you. Just minor little things like eating Angel's potato salad and scratching up some couches.

He walked into a common room.

Nothing too bad.

CRASH

Both of you made eye contact after you pushed a cup off of the table you were perched on.

"Dear, I'd advise you not to make anymore mess. I'll have to clean it up later."

Ignoring him, you slowly pushed another glass.

"No.", he said in a warning tone.

You stopped and stared at him for a moment before continuing.

"Oh for the love of-", he sighed as the other glass broke. "Fine. Let's do something about your current state.", he walked over to you.

It didn't even take a second for you to shift into a full on cat and dart out of the room.

Now I see what Husker meant.

"This is going to take a while."

Husk watched with a smug grin and took a sip from his bottle.

"No! Get down from there!", the Radio Demon ran over to the middle of the lobby.

You were on the chandelier.

"Oh yeah, they like tall places.", Husk pointed out.

"What in the devil was in that drink?", Alastor said, trying to use his tendrils to get you down.

All you did was swat and paw at the dark things. Moving out of the way and scratching.

"It's catnip tea."

There was a record scratch.

Alastor felt his eye twitch at how obvious it was.

"Figures."

The cat demon felt a little better that he got you to be a problem for the deer. Maybe after this the smiling fuck would leave you alone. Then he'd finally get some peace.

"Husk? What the fuck is going on?", Vaggie walked over, gesturing to what was happening in the lobby.

"Nothing much, just my sibling giving the deer a hard time.", he responded.

There was a crash.

The chandelier having fallen and you running off again.

"Damn!", the red demon snapped his fingers, bringing up some creatures to clean up the mess before going after you.

"Can I watch?"

"Be my guest."

The two watched as the deer demon chased you around the hotel. Trying and failing at getting a good hold on you. After a few hours, Husk and Vaggie left, having been satisfied with all the random shit you did to keep the smiling demon occupied.

Alastor, having run around the hotel all day was tired and had his shadows chase you instead.

Walking over to the couch with the least amount of scratches, he sat down with a tired sigh and leaned back into the cushions.

"Never again.", he told himself.

There were growls and hissing coming from the other side of the lobby, no doubt you scratching the shadows that tried to grab you.

"Do be gentle, there can't be any fur out of place.", Alastor told the shadows as he rubbed the side of his head.

I'll have to go over our original deal later. He thought about the first contract he had Husker sign.

It got quiet for a moment and he saw that you had torn apart his shadows.

"How did you do that?", he asked as you trotted over and jumped up on the couch.

Even now you were still a little cat, fully embracing your cat side.

"You are a menace, you know that?", he said to you, watching as you 'made biscuits' on one of the pillows.

I didn't know you could cause such chaos. Though you did end up in Hell so that should have said something. He thought and leaned his head back, closing his eyes from being tired and up all day.

Then he felt a weight on his lap.

Snapping his eyes open and looking down, he found you resting like a loaf of bread.

"All I had to do was sit down..", he said annoyed before just giving up. "Alright, alright. You have the honor of besting the Radio Demon."

You were comfortable, eyes closed and adjusting just a bit before staying put.

Such a calm thing when they aren't running about. He thought and started to pet your head, which had you purring immediately.

"You know, I never liked dogs. And with you I can see myself being a cat person."

His hand was yanked back by the wrist.

"You better get your fucking hands off of them!", Husk yelled. "They aren't your fucking pet. This is your last warning."

You had run off and hid from the barking cat.

"They had just settled down.", Alastor said and turned to look at your brother, pissed. "￦h¥ wθμ|d y¤U rμ¡n +h@t?"

"Oh calm your ass down.", Husk took out a bell and dropped it, letting it roll on the floor.

You pounced on it and started messing with the ringing ball.

"You think I don't know how they act? I spent years taking care of them before officially becoming an overlord."

"This would have been useful information earlier.", the deer snatched his hand back.

The cat demon rolled his eyes and went to pick you up along with the ball before turning back to look at his boss.

"I just wanted to see you annoyed.", Husk smiled, walking over to the stairs to take you to your room.

"And stop touching them. Read our fucking contract you dumbass. You're not supposed to lay a hand on anyone I genuinely care about."

Alastor stayed for a moment longer before shadow traveling to his hotel room, going over to his desk and rummaging through it for the contract.

"Where is the blasted old thing.", he mumbled, going through his papers before remembering he could snap it into his hands. "Looks like I really am tired."

He did just that and looked over the contract, skimming through it until he reached the part about protection.

"No touching, holding, dancing or any unnecessary physical contact with any demon I, The Gambling Demon, deem important enough to care about. This includes any blood relatives still alive in Hell."

The Radio Demon laughed.

What a clever cat.

"Let's see where I can find a loophole.", he grabbed a pen to take notes.

Let the game begin.

If you asked to be added but don't find your name in the taglist, please let me know through messages. I'll try to tag you again, and if it still doesn't work then I'll send you updates through messages.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @jane-3043 @chocolat3pudding @chewbrry @dewdropsposts @danveration @jyoongim @iloveblogging2 @elaemae @hallowedandhungry @fandom-nobody @nevermore-ramblings @creepylilneko @perilous-pasta @xdolls-crownx @scary-noodlesblog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | HK ChL😾

#x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #gn reader #the radio demon #alastor x reader #fanfic #husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin husk #husk hazbin #hazbin hotel husk #cat demon #cat demon reader #tehe some cat fun #cat biscuits #older brother husk #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #niffty hazbin hotel

[naturepointstheway]

58 tugger and Misto

From this prompts list. Gonna go with Zurich!Misto because I think way too much about him.

---

Once again, Tugger was sprawled out in the den, moonlight playing on his thick fur, regaling his day's escapades, including how many times he had gone in and out of a door as he constantly changed his mind.

Twenty-seven times?! Mistoffelees marveled, though he thought Tugger might have been exaggerating a tadge. What is he doing, going for a feline world record?

He couldn't help a little bemused shake of his head at that, wondering why he was so in love with this dumbass cat who, after all this time, had still yet to learn how not to get stuck in drawers.

Maybe he'll have that lightbulb moment about drawers one day.

Mistoffelees wasn't holding his breath on that count though, and to be honest, he hoped he never would, as it was always entertaining to see him struggle to escape a confined space that might have fit Tugger as a kitten, but certainly not as a full grown Maine Coon.

Tugger had now moved on to a new topic, talking at Misto more than to him, but the latter didn't really mind. It was a comfort sometimes just to have Tugger chatting away as they enjoyed each other's company away from everyone else.

Content with listening a little longer, Mistoffelees let himself just study Tugger, noting the way he sprawled out with one back leg always a little farther behind than the other, how he tugged sometimes at his collar when particularly amused, the way his ears quivered at an exciting point in a tale, and the little scritchings he did at his mane every now and then, as though primping up a little. The richness of his voice, with its deep baritone, how it could go from loud to soft in the space of a few words, and did he even breathe at all in the last three stories?! When he interrupted his story to add a playful growl every now and then, it always sent tingles up and down Mistoffelees' body, and the harder he tried not to imagine Tugger growling his name like that into his ear, the more he imagined it.

Really. Tugger needed to stop that. It was simply becoming unbearable, and Mistoffelees wouldn't last much longer before needing to experience what it would be like to kiss him for the first time.

Wait.

What?

Suddenly, kissing Tugger was all Mistoffelees could think about, and he couldn't keep his eyes from drifting down to Tugger's mouth, thinking how soft his mane would feel under his paws, or when he nuzzled the sides of his face.

Would you please just kiss me?

He wasn't often bold, but now Mistoffelees found himself standing up and striding over to Tugger, standing so close to the other that they were almost nose to nose. Tugger abruptly stopped to stare at him, struck speechless. Mistoffelees couldn't help a small smile as he put a paw on Tugger's mouth.

"Mmh?" Tugger asked, staring at Mistoffelees with confusion.

Now or never.

Before he could lose this bold nerve in him, Mistoffelees removed his paw from Tugger's mouth, and leaned in, inching closer and closer.

"Misto?"

Now!

He pressed his mouth to Tugger's in a firm kiss, front paws cupping his face, fur tickling between his digits, heart pounding in his ribcage, before pulling back quickly, stumbling backward over his back paws, fur tingling, paws ringing with magic stirred by this experience.

I did it? I did it.

Tugger stared at him so long Misto began to worry that he'd done it wrong, that he should've asked somehow first, or...

Did I miss something again?

He pawed at his ears, waiting for a rebuke. Instead, to his surprise, he heard an appreciative purr, laced with surprise and joy.

"Damn, Misto, I wasn't expecting that!"

Mistoffelees pointed at his own lips, then at Tugger, with a nod and then a shake of his head. He hoped Tugger could understand the question.

"That was amazing--can you do it again?"

A questioning purr, small with a quiet hope.

Tugger winked, flashing Mistoffelees that grin that he knew charmed the fur off anyone, the magical cat included.

"I guess we're gonna be busy for a while tonight, huh?"

Mistoffelees grinned back, heart fluttering, ready to burst with so much joy he had to do a spin or two on his way back to Tugger. When Tugger held out his paw to him, Mistoffelees practically leaped into his embrace, breath catching when a kiss landed firm on his lips, with the same enthusiasm as Misto's own had been. Again, he let his paws entangle in Tugger's mane, closing his eyes as the bigger cat held him even closer, one paw between his shoulder blades, and the other in the small of his back, losing themselves in their kiss, knowing their love for each other was reciprocated and met with enthusiastic joy.

I hope this never ends...

#cats the musical #cats fanfiction #Tuggoffelees #mr mistoffelees #Mistoffelees #Rum Tum Tugger #mute mistoffelees #zurich!misto

[eziojensenthe3rd]

Senates adjourned until may 7th on a tuesday.

Get to calling through the weekend and monday.

We can clutch this!

#kosa #stop kosa #palestine #gaza #transgender #kosa bill #lgbtqia #lgbt #trans #internet freedom #internet censorship #us politics #bad internet bills #kids online safety act #stop kosa bill #free gaza #free palestine #free speech #freedom of speech #fandom #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #cats of tumblr #queer #fanfiction #fanart #internet culture #usa

[mistocore]

new cringe epic chapter dropped wahoo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38165638/chapters/100384350

#i started writing chapter 6 by mistake at the end of this one lol #so i broke it up #im getting there lollllllllllll #cats #cats the musical #cats 1998 #cats fanfic #cats fanfiction #black sheep #au

[charliemwrites]

As promised some time ago: Gaz!

The new house is… well, you don’t dislike it. It’s beautiful, already renovated while you were busy selling the old house. Just new, unfamiliar. You’re unaccustomed to the noises it makes, the shadows it casts, the echoes off the walls.

You’re not too proud to admit (to yourself and your dogs) that you’re a bit of a chicken the first couple weeks. Too many nights watching spooky media about people living in walls or stalking new tenants — despite Skipper’s best efforts. So you keep one or more of the dogs with you at all times, fingers in their fur and lights on as you go. Ghost has been especially tolerant, leaning against your leg when the sun goes down and the house feels too strange.

You’ve always been grateful for the peace of mind that four huge wolf-dogs brings, but never more than now. With several sets of teeth surrounding your bed and guarding your locked doors, they’ve made the transition so much easier on your nerves.

The new forest behind the house is also some cause for concern. The first day you brought them home, you went out by yourself for quick inspection of the yard and immediate area. Sharp-eyed looking for glass, metal, or anything else dubious.

You came back to four extremely grumpy pups and were basically bullied out of leaving them alone again. Skipper was especially huffy that night.

But things feel like they’re beginning to settle. You’ve gotten a bigger couch, bigger floor cushions. There’s a second story to this new house — or more of a half-floor really. A loft? It consists of the master bedroom, master bathroom, and a sort of open-spaced landing that you’re using as a satellite collection zone for toys.

Sometimes, when you’re on the couch, you’ll catch a bit of movement and get spooked by one of the boys staring from the railing that overlooks the den. Have fussed at wagging Johnny twice now for it.

Still, the transition to your new home has been as smooth as you could ask for with four giant, protective dogs. You miss the old place a bit; have the irrational fear that you’re going to miss another displaced dog in need of a home, but you try not to think about it.

Maybe you should have thought about it a little more.

One evening, you let the boys out for their pre-bed potty. There’s a cup of chamomile tea in your hand, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. Winter will be setting in soon. It’s already cold enough to set your teeth on edge. Never mind that it’s been raining all day, only just letting up to light patter at sunset.

Commotion at the edge of the (much larger) yard catches your attention. All of your boys seem to be gathered around something. They’re not barking or growling, and from the dim porch light, you don’t see hackles raised but still. Anything that catches their attention is worth investigating.

Cursing under your breath, you set your mug aside, slip into some shoes, and snatch up your phone for the flashlight. It’s only when you’re halfway there that you remember to pray that it’s not something dead. Or dying. Or creepy.

“Please don’t let this be a spooky doll or something,” you whisper to yourself.

Skipper must hear you, because his head pops up. He doesn’t… look concerned. But he’s a dog, how would he know that something in the yard is of human concern?

He trots away from their little congregation to meet you, almost like he’s escorting you to whatever they’re gathered around. You realize why when the flashlight illuminates a ball of soaked fur.

“Oh,” you breathe, “oh no…”

You gently nudge Konig aside to kneel down, a dry sob bubbling up in the back of your throat when you hear a quiet, miserable mew. A pair of brilliant green eyes squint and shy from the light, wide and sad.

“Oh, baby,” you coo. “Please come here. C’mon.”

You slowly, carefully extend a hand. Palm up, just a couple fingers. You’re not as familiar with cats anymore, but you remember enough to know that there‘ll be no scooping it up, even if it needs help. It’ll have to come to you of its own accord.

Relief floods you when you get the briefest cursory sniffle, and then the kitty is bumping its head against your hand for a scritch. You take a moment to pet what you can, heart breaking a bit with each shiver in the cold.

You keep coaxing it closer, gentle words and patient petting, getting bolder with your touch. When it’s finally close enough, the faintest purr rattling in its chest, you decide to try.

Apart from a nervous glance, the cat remarkably tolerant about letting you wrap your now-wet blanket around it, then scooping it up.

“Oof, you’re a big kid, huh?” You mutter, pausing to get a better hold. The darkness and hunkering down to preserve body heat was deceptive. This cat feels huge. “That’s alright, I’m used to it.”

You breathe a huge sigh when you enter the house again. It’s toasty inside — or at least it feels that way after sitting in the cold rain for fifteen minutes.

The boys files in after you, politely shaking off at the door before stepping into the mudroom. (Another upgrade you’ve been extremely grateful for.

You pause, try to get your bearings. You’ve got four soaked dogs, one possibly hypothermic cat, and you.

Christ, sometimes you wish you had an extra pair of hands.

“Okay. Let’s get the heater first.”

It’s already going, so you just turn it up a bit more, warm enough to start drying everyone. Then you go to the cupboard, sparing an arm from your oversized bundle to extract a towel.

You cross back to the heater and sit down, gently nestling your cat-burrito into the well of your legs.

The same big green eyes blink up at you, another mewl comes from it.

“Hi,” you croon, “isn’t that better already? Much warmer in here.”

You present the towel for inspection, let it sniff and decide it’s non-threatening before gently wiping it along the clumped fur. The dogs, to your surprise, don’t crowd to investigate. Skipper stops by to give the cat a sniff, before ultimately flopping down against your hip. But the other three arrange themselves around you, watching, but giving you and the kitty some space.

Remarkably thoughtful of them, and you tell them as much, praising their good behavior. The kitty, in the meantime, just… stares. It’s been a long time since you interacted with one, but you don’t remember your grandma’s tabby being so…

“Can I help you, little one?” You ask, grinning when it blinks at you slowly. You brush a finger under its chin, grinning when its eyes go half-lidded and nearly cross. “You’re worse than my Johnny boy with the staring.”

You receive a huff for that and laugh softly, making kissy noises at him until his tail thumps against the absorbent floor mat.

The cat is back to staring, though, ears up. You hum and keep up the half-scratching, half-drying technique until its fur starts to fluff up and you can take proper stock of the animal you’ve just rescued.

You weren’t kidding about it being big. Biggest cat you’ve ever seen — you’d almost think it was wild if not for the sweet face. You’re sure you might have seen the breed somewhere before…

Maine coon, maybe? Or… Siberian something or other? It’s fluffy, that’s for sure. But even without all the fluff that’s beginning to poof out like a dirty cotton ball, it’s a big cat. Big enough to be an average dog.

You huff in amusement that more it dries out.

“You look like a little storm cloud,” you giggle. “Well, little being relative.”

You receive a more normal-sounding meow for that. It thrills you that it’s already sounding better. Less sad, for sure.

The purring even start up again, developing into a deep hum like a running motor. It’s instantly soothing, the same way listening to the dogs’ breathing is. It lulls you until you’re nearly dozing sitting up. Only the wet nose of Skipper against your cheek rousing you.

“Jesus, right,” you say, jolting. Take a drowsy look around. All the boys seem dry or mostly dry. The only damp spot left on your new feline friend seems to be the feet, which won’t take much longer. “Let’s get inside proper.”

You lock up the mudroom and turn the heater low again, then urge everyone into the den. The cat doesn’t even hesitate, threading cleverly between your moving legs as you shuffle to the kitchen.

You prep an extra bowl of food and leave it up for the cat where the dogs can’t get it. Give it one last stroke from head to tail before trudging for the bathroom.

Normally, you’d be more concerned about leaving a cat in a house full of dogs. But the boys proved already that they have no interest in hurting the cat, despite the earlier crowding. Figure there are plenty of places to hide if they do make the kitty uncomfortable regardless.

The hot shower only serves to thicken the drowsiness blanketing you, leaving you heavy-lidded and sluggish. You pull the curtain aside to the usual audience of huge eyes, a new pair among them — the cat perched on the bathroom sink.

When you lean to grab your towel, they stick their face close for a sniff and you pause, always patient for curious creatures. When the little nose gets too close to your mouth, you twist and drop a quick peck to its snout before leaning back. The flabbergasted look makes you laugh as you begin toweling off.

“What a funny little thing you are,” you coo. “Would you like to be mind.”

“Mrrrow!”

“Yeah, I made a good first showing, huh?”

You have absolutely zero supplies for a cat, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, you just want to climb into bed and conk out. Home-making and animal-saving takes a lot out of you.

As always, the furry procession to your room leaves you warm and happy. Johnny always the first to hop into bed, licking your shoulder when you climb in beside him. Konig takes your other side, much more willing to snuggle now that you have the California King mattress to accommodate your pack. Ghost licks at Skipper’s chin in the doorway, then jumps up to lie by your hip, cuddling Johnny.

Skipper comes up last, padding over to receive one last kiss from you before lying by your feet, on the side closest to the door. You’re less concerned about kicking him now with the extra room, and enjoy the heat for your toes.

You almost startle at the soft thump next to your head. Turn and blink to see big green eyes blinking down at you, a purr nearly rattling your brain.

“Oh, hi,” you murmur, “make yourself at home.”

The cat does just that, curling himself onto a pillow and pressing his forehead into your neck. You nearly melt as you flick off the light. It’s warm and quiet and dark, just the breathing of warm bodies and soft tap of rain.

“I love you all so much,” you whisper, fingers threading into Konig’s coat. “My loves.”

The house’s new echoes are still unfamiliar, so it’s just a product of being half-asleep that makes you think you hear voices in the middle of the night.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #1fur1 #dog john mactavish #dog john price #dog konig #dog simon Riley #cat Kyle Garrick #woof woof au

[popamolly]

‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL’ ALASTOR

summary. Alastor grapples with the realization that he might actually have feelings for you, as you contend with the internal conflict of obeying your mother's wishes or pursuing your own happiness.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

warnings. dark romance, smut if you squint, human!alastor, age gap! you’re in your early 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s, you're naive, Alastor preys on your innocence, blood, kidnapping, implied murder, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. thank you so much for 800 followers! as well as the amount of love this story is getting! i am enjoying writing for human!Alastor and can’t for you all see where i’ll take this. enjoy sinners. (also, if you saw the rough draft and all the mistakes, no you didn’t)

One moment you were on Alastor’s cluttered desk and the next you were in his spacious bed. You had no idea how you got there as it all remained a mysterious blur. The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on both of your bodies as you two continued to move in sync with one another. Straddling his waist, the rhythmic dance against his hips had your head tossed back in pure bliss. It was a slow, deep, sensation that was vastly different from a few hours before.

His fingernails dragged across your back as he watched your face contort in pleasure, he loved the sight of you— the various marks on you caused by him stirred something within him. It made him wonder how many times can he break you before you crumbled into a million of tiny pieces.

Before you knew it, you were waking up in Alastor’s bed again, only this time you were alone just as the sun reached its peak in the sky. The sunlight was so bright you had to squint your eyes as you sat up in the bed. A delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wafted through the air making your stomach grumble. Knowing that Alastor was perhaps in the kitchen, you pull the sheets from over you and go to stand, your legs felt like jelly and the soreness you felt in between your legs truly made it harder to walk.

You scanned the room for something to wear. All traces of modesty had disappeared since Alastor had taken you across nearly every piece of furniture in his possession, at that point what did you have to be modest about? Opting for one of his blouses, you opened his closet with the expectation of finding a more varied collection, only to discover that each blouse and pair of trousers adhered to a more monochromatic theme.

While reaching for a shirt, you accidentally knocked down another hanger. As you got on your knees to searched for the fallen garment on the floor, your fingertips brushed against a wooden box that was neatly tucked away into the shadows of the closet, sparking your curiosity. You sat down on the floor of the closet, dragging the box toward you to open it- but it was locked.

You decided to leave it be, excusing it as a mere heirloom or something of importance to Alastor. It was left in the back of your mind as you retreat from the closet, you changed into the blouse before leaving his bedroom to follow the delightful scent of breakfast- but before you left the room, you couldn't resist picking up Alastor's forgotten glasses from his nightstand.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the delicious scent of breakfast intensified. The memories of the night before lingered in your mind, a mix of passion and tenderness with Alastor. The soreness between your legs served as a reminder of the intimate moments you shared.

You found Alastor humming a jazz tune as he cooked, completely absorbed in his culinary endeavors. The clinking of utensils against pans filled the air, harmonizing with his cheerful humming. He turned to look at you, a smile spreading across his face.

"Well, good morning, my dear," Alastor greeted, his tone a mix of charm and, at least you hoped, genuine affection. "I hope you slept well."

"Goodmorning Alastor, I did sleep well, thank you," you returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in the domestic scene. The small kitchen table was set for two, adorned with a simple but elegant lace. Alastor had an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane tasks seem like an art form.

You took a seat at the table, placing his glasses carefully beside you. Alastor joined you, serving a delicious-looking breakfast onto your plate.

"Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the spread before you. "We had a long night so I am sure you are quite famished.”

You looked down at your silverware as you thanked him, your entire body heating up at the mention of your shared affairs last night as you dug into the meal, savoring the flavors. The comfortable silence between you and Alastor spoke volumes, a example of the connection formed between you two during the night.

Alastor sat across from you with a delighted hum, newspaper in hand while he sipped from his coffee mug in the other, "And how are you faring, my dear? I supposed I did get quite carried away." He broke the domestic silence with a grin, his eyes looking over your neck that was littered with marks. His marks.

"I'm fine," You say honestly, "I enjoyed it really, it was good...for my first time." You all but whispered the last part.

"Well that eases my worry," Alastor puts on his glasses to rest them on the bridge of his nose as he looks over his newspaper again, turning the page as he crosses his right leg over his left, “Let me know if you prefer tea in the morning, I have some brewing on the stove for the afternoon.”

Tea. You audibly gasp at the word as the realization dawned on you. You were supposed to be at home, sick in bed, and drinking tea— that was your cover for the night but the night was long since over. Glancing at the clock, you noticed that it was thirty minutes until eight o’clock, which was the usual time for breakfast to be served at your house. Your mother always expected you at the table a minute before her, groomed and ready for the day ahead. If you weren’t there on time then surely it’ll cause suspicion.

“I hate to cut this short but I have to go,” You hurriedly gobble up the rest of your food before standing up from your chair, “I have to be home soon or my mother will kill me!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the irony in that, “Surely, you have time to at least finish your coffee?”

You spared the moment a thought but ultimately shook your head, “I’m sorry but I can’t,” you walked past Alastor to go into his bedroom to slip on your clothes from the night before. His footsteps followed, accompanied by the jingle of car keys in hand.

As you hurriedly grabbed your belongings, Alastor offered to ease your worry with a smile, "I'll drive you home. No need to rush alone in your state of distress."

Grateful for the assistance, you nodded in agreement, and together, you both left his place. You felt different now, a bit lighter, more mature as you slipped into the passenger side of Alastor's car. He held the door open and closed it for you like a true gentleman. The car ride was filled with light banter, Alastor's charismatic demeanor easing the tension that lingered from your hasty departure.

Once you reached your home, Alastor parked the car a little ways away from your estate and turned to you. "Thank you for the company, darling. I hope your mother's wrath is not as fearsome as you anticipate."

You chuckled nervously, appreciating his understanding. "I hope so too. And thank you for everything, Alastor.. I enjoyed our time together."

He leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and planted a gentle kiss on your lips. "Until we meet again," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

With a promise to see each other soon hanging in the air, you slipped through the back door of your home, grateful for the concealment it offered. Hastily, you made your way to your room, hurriedly taking off the clothes from the night before taking a moment to compose yourself. You had only a few minutes to spare and you couldn't waste them.

After freshening up in your own personal water closet, you did your hair as neatly, and quickly, as you could— following up with a light touch of makeup. The faint taste of Alastor's farewell kiss lingered, and you couldn't help but smile at your reflection in the mirror. Now, groomed and ready, you braced yourself for the day ahead and the potential questions your mother might have about your ailment.

You rushed downstairs into the dining room, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm toast filling the air. Just as you took your seat, your mother entered, her expression stoic. Unfazed, you greeted her with a bright smile, attempting to mask any trace of your recent escapades.

"Good morning Mother, How did you sleep?" you asked cheerfully, reaching for the toast as if it were any ordinary morning.

Your mother eyed you with a raised eyebrow, as she sat down at the head of the table, allowing the maid beside her to pour her tea, "Well enough, dear. I found myself tossing and turning all night. And you? That cold seemed to be really troubling you last night."

You laughed nervously, hoping your casual demeanor would deflect any probing questions. "It was, I could hardly get out of bed last night but thankfully sleep eventually came."

She continued to observe you, suspicion lingering in her gaze. Of course she knows you snuck out but she wouldn't reveal her cards too early. She would let you have this win for now in the hopes that when your rendezvous did come to light, your spirit would be so crushed by then that you'd have no other choice but to lean on your mother for support because she knew that this was a mere distraction for you and you were nothing but a toy to the man that wanted to use you. Your mother should know, after all she was a young girl once herself. "Mm-hmm," she responded, not fully convinced as she eyed the turtleneck dress you wore. "Anything interesting happen last night?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you maintained your composure. "Not really, just a quiet night. How about you? Anything exciting on your end?"

She hesitated, scrutinizing you for a moment before deciding to drop the subject. "No, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual."

Relieved, you continued with a light breakfast, inwardly sighing at the narrow escape. Little did your mother know about the intriguing night you had spent with Alastor, and you hoped to keep it that way—for now, at least.

As you sipped your tea, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further inquiries, your mother decided to drop a bombshell. With a casual tone, she announced, "Silly me, but I forgot to mention that we're hosting a party in two days. We must prepare you for that so I have list of errands we need to run. Oh, and I've decided it's time that I take over in your matchmaking process."

Your eyes widened in surprise, nearly choking on your tea. "A party? Matchmaking? Mom, that's a bit sudden, isn't it?"

Your mother smiled innocently as she was spreading jam on her toast. "Nonsense, dearest. You've had quite a bit of freedom lately, and I think it's only fair that I take charge of finding you a suitable partner."

You were taken aback by the revelation. "Mom, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle my own affairs. I don't need you picking a match for me."

She raised an eyebrow, her expression turning serious. "And where has that led us? It's time to consider your future. I've arranged for some eligible suitors to attend the party, and by the end of the night, we'll have a decision."

You felt a sense of frustration and helplessness. The control over your own choices slipping away yet again, replaced by the traditional expectations your mother seemed determined to enforce. As you finished your breakfast, a sense of foreboding settled in—the upcoming party was more than just a social gathering. It held the potential to reshape your life in ways you may not be ready for.

As the conversation about the upcoming party lingered, a maid entered the room, carefully placing a radio on the table. You couldn't help but notice that this particular maid was new, and a quick glance around revealed that the other servants bustling about the home were also unfamiliar faces.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you leaned in and asked your mother, "Mother, What happened to our usual staff?"

Your mother, engrossed in the morning radio, responded nonchalantly, "Oh, I fired them, dear. They simply weren't meeting my standards. Now, please hold your tongue; I'm trying to listen to the morning news."

You were left you speechless, a mix of surprise and concern washing over you. The familiar faces that had been a constant presence in your household were replaced without warning. You couldn't help but wonder what had transpired behind the scenes and what might be the real reason for this sudden change. Then you realized that maybe your mother knew of your outing with Alastor and she was acting like she didn't, and if she was, why was she acting clueless?

Your mind began swirling with questions about the upcoming party, the matchmaking, and now the unexplained dismissal of the longtime staff. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, leaving you with an uneasy feeling about the changes that were unfolding in your once-familiar surroundings.

"Oh, what a delightful morning it is! I trust everyone enjoyed a restful night, as I certainly did!" Alastor's voice resonated through the radio, carrying a distinct weight. Despite being the renowned radio show host, he seemed like an entirely different person. Though the broadcast introduced some static, his charm remained. "Let's kick off this morning with some smooth jazz tunes, shall we? I have Louis Armstrong & His Hot Seven's top hits ready to grace your ears! We'll return shortly after this brief interlude, folks!"

Alastor flipped off one switch on his microphone and activated another. The sounds of "Potato Head Blues" filled the airwaves, spreading throughout New Orleans. While the jazz played in the warehouse, Alastor rose from his chair with an irritated groan, heading towards a locked closet at the end of the hall. Using a key, he unlocked the door and descended the creaky wooden stairs. As he reached the bottom step, another voice in the room caught his attention.

"Mmmh!" The person, bound to a chair with a cloth in their mouth, struggled against their restraints, fear evident in their eyes as they observed Alastor approaching with a stoic expression. Tear-filled eyes followed his movements as he walked to a table in the corner, his fingertips brushing over an array of displayed knives. "Mmmph! Hmph!"

"Your grunts and stifled screams are growing rather tiresome," Alastor remarked, his hand hovering over one of his cherished knives with a sinister grin. Lifting it up, the blade gleamed in the light. "I understand it's rather solitary in this space. You were supposed to have a companion, but," Alastor pulled a wooden chair across the floor, creating an unsettling echo against the concrete. He positioned himself in front of the restrained individual, heightening the bone-chilling atmosphere, "plans change."

Alastor glided the blade deliberately across the person's cheek, the chilling touch of the metal causing involuntary shivers. Despite their struggles against the restraints, Alastor sighed, tapping the blade against their skin in a disturbingly mocking rhythm.

"This person, this woman," Alastor mused, tilting his head to the side, "is confusing me, and I don't like it." The sadistic atmosphere in the room thickened as he increased the pressure of the blade against their cheek, drawing blood. Suddenly, he halted, as if a realization had struck him.

"But I don't hate it either," Alastor declared with an unsettling calmness, leaving an ominous pause that lingered in the air. The duality of his emotions toward the captive person added a perplexing layer to the unfolding scene, intensifying the disturbing nature of the situation.

Alastor, maintaining his eerie composure, turned to the restrained person and asked, "What do you think? Is it true love?" A twisted amusement gleamed in his eyes as he awaited a response.

A cruel chuckle escaped him as he noticed the person's inability to answer, their mouth securely gagged. The absurdity of the question in the face of their silent predicament seemed to amuse the madman further. The room resonated with Alastor's unsettling laughter, creating an atmosphere of malevolence that hung heavily in the air. The captive, helpless and silenced, could only endure the scene unfolding before them knowing that this would be the last sight they ever see.

"One, two, three, one, two-" The ballroom echoed with the rhythmic counting of the waltz, your mother diligently guiding you through the steps. As you twirled with your elderly dance partner, your mind drifted to Alastor. The memory of dancing with him under the stars tugged at your heart, and an undeniable longing for him filled your thoughts.

In the midst of the waltz, you couldn't shake the yearning to be with him, whether listening to his radio broadcasts or engaging in casual conversations over coffee. The mere thought of Alastor sent your heart racing, leaving you flustered and questioning the nature of these emotions. Was this love? The answer seemed evident with each flutter of your heart, each bounce of the balls of your feet. Love, it seemed, had taken root in your heart.

The dance partner, an elderly servant, winced as your foot landed squarely on his toes. "I am so sorry!" you began to apologize, but your mother's sharp voice cut through the room.

"A woman must be graceful like a swan," she admonished, tapping the back of your thighs with a cane, the sting making you wince, "not a tumbling tiger."

"I—" You attempted to offer excuses, but your mother's stern gaze silenced you.

"You are distracted," she declared, shaking her head in disapproval. "I need you to dismiss whatever is taking over your mind and be present. The ball is tomorrow, and I can't have you embarrassing me on your big day." The weight of her expectations pressed upon you, urging you to set aside your personal feelings and focus on the upcoming event.

A heavy sigh escaped your mother's lips as she turned her attention to the elderly servant. "You may leave us," she instructed, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment. The servant bowed slightly, acknowledging the dismissal before exiting the ballroom.

Now alone, your mother circled you, her scrutinizing gaze causing you to shrink under her watchful eyes. The atmosphere grew tense as she examined you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

With each step, your mother's presence loomed, and the weight of her expectations seemed to intensify. The impending ball was not just an event; it was a reflection of her social standing, and any misstep could ruin her reputation. As she circled, you couldn't help but feel the pressure to conform to her ideals and expectations, the desire for personal connection and freedom momentarily eclipsed by the demands of societal decorum.

Your mother's gaze didn't miss the marks on your neck you tried to hide, remnants of the passionate night you spent with Alastor. She dismissed it with a grimace, a silent disapproval lingering in her expression.

As the tension in the room hung thick, your mother took a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak once again. "Did I ever tell you the story of how I was in love?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Of course, you and father—" you began, but your mother cut you off with a firm gesture. "This was before your father. Before everything…before I became a woman of high society."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and you could sense that she was about to share a piece of her past, a side of her life that you hadn't even thought to acknowledge. As the ball loomed on the horizon, the barriers between you and your mother seemed to momentarily lower, providing a glimpse into a time when love and passion took precedence over societal expectations.

"I fell in love with a man during the summer months," your mother began, her voice carrying a bittersweet tone. She continued to circle you, sharing the intimate details of a past you had only glimpsed before. "He swept me off my feet quickly, and I was blinded by that love because, in my eyes, he was my happily ever after."

Your eyes widened as you listened intently to your mother's story. The ballroom, once filled with the echoes of waltz music, now held a poignant atmosphere as she delved into her personal history.

"I was merely a farmer's daughter, and he, a factory worker. It truly was a good match. But…" Her mother's expression darkened at the memory. "My dear, you can give a man everything, every ounce of your entire being, and he will still want more."

As the weight of her words settled, you could sense the bitter undertones of regret and heartache in your mother's story. It opened a window into her past, a time when love seemed boundless, yet reality had its own lessons to impart. The circling continued, each step a reminder of the complexities that love could bring.

"What I thought was love was nothing but a game to him," your mother continued, her voice carrying the weight of past heartache. The circling ceased abruptly, and her cane tapped hard against the ballroom floor as if emphasizing the gravity of her words. "He was gone with autumn, taking everything I had given him—my money, my body…my soul. I would've been truly ruined if it wasn't for your father."

She stood in front of you, gripping your chin harshly, forcing you to meet her gaze with glossy eyes. "I say all of that to say, do not be fooled by a wolf in sheep's clothing."

The words hung in the air, resonating with the tale she had just shared. The ballroom, once a place of elegance and grace, now echoed with the cautionary wisdom of a mother who had weathered the storms of love and loss. The vulnerability in her eyes and the firmness of her grip conveyed the sincerity of her warning, urging you to tread carefully in matters of the heart.

"I don't care what you do from this point forward but know this, you will attend the ball in your honor and you will marry the man who I deem worthy of you, understood?" After your mother releases her grip from your chin, tapping her cane once more, she steps aside, allowing you to pass. "Practice is over. You may go," she declares.

The aftermath of this encounter leaves tears welling in your eyes and a heavy weight in your chest. Unable to meet your mother's gaze, you hurry past her, fleeing the ballroom without a backward glance. In your rush, you even collide with a maid, but offer no apology as you hurry out the front door. Emotions swirl within you, mingling anger towards your mother with a deeper frustration directed toward yourself. The struggle between fulfilling family expectations and pursuing your own happiness weighed heavily on your mind. Are you truly prepared to forsake everything for Alastor? And more importantly, would he do the same for you?

Descending the stone steps of your home in haste, you decided to find Alastor and confront the questions you've been avoiding. Only his response would determine your next move.

"Mr. Ray?" You lean down to peer through the driver's side window, where your family chauffeur is taking a cigarette break. His complexion blends seamlessly with the setting sun. "Could you take me somewhere?"

"Without your mother?" He arches an eyebrow. "I believe you still require a chaperone, young lady."

"She allowed me out for the afternoon as long as I am back before curfew. Please, I'll be under your watchful eye. I promise to behave," you nearly beg, your puppy-dog eyes meeting his.

With a resigned sigh, the chauffeur relents. "Get in," he says, giving in to your plea and falling for your sweet lie.

With a sense of purpose, you climbed into the car, knowing that the journey ahead would be filled with uncertainty but you were determined in proving your mother wrong, you wanted to follow your happiness and Alastor was that happiness because in your mind— no, in your heart, you knew you loved him.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

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