Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Of course he remembered a time before. What a question!

It was only natural: memories are not normally affected by magic, after all. Well, perhaps by memory-magic, or possibly other reality-altering forms, but his natural talents lay in metals and cats. And any curses he'd come across, no matter how powerful, had yet to have an effect in that area.

(Not that he could say as much, of course, but being unable to speak and unable to think are two completely different matters.)

He'd only meant to approximate Midnight's appearance at first. He never meant for the heterochromia to be permanent. And yet, he'd never really minded the change. It was striking, yes, but it made for a rather gothic sort of conversation starter.

And if it made him stand out, well, maybe that fact would give those under him a moment or two of respite, should the need for such ever arise.

In the meantime, he'd use his magic to protect them in any way he could. They were his strays, after all, and he'd do nearly anything to help him escape the fate he'd inadvertently given to himself.

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The only reason Reese hadn't always prided himself on his powers of observation was because he hadn't realized that not everyone had the same gift.

He'd figured out magic by studying his old man and copying his movements. It wasn't hard at all to make the images come to life once he knew what he was doing. And maybe they didn't last long, or look as good as his dad's, but that's because he was young and hadn't yet been properly trained.

Graves was his father's friend, and the most powerful witch he knew. It was only natural to want to study under him. If being a cat was what it took to seal the deal, then of course he'd take the curse. He'd take a lot more if it meant spending time with Graves and training with the best of the best.

What he couldn't understand was how everyone else had walked into it blind. Finley had nearly blown his eardrums when she'd found out, and Mason had looked nearly ready to murder someone. And, naturally, it had fallen on him to explain each time.

He'd even used his powers as assistant manager to double-check the contracts, but they were all identical to his, minus names and dates and other trivial details. Either he was working with a bunch of idiots, or they all needed to learn how to read.

They were nice possibly illiterate idiots, though. And magical at that, if the contracts were right.

He just hoped that none of the stole Graves away once their own powers awakened.

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The truth is, Landry had always considered himself a dog person. Still did, deep down.

Maybe that's why he'd become a Maine Coon. A bit of research had told him that they were dog-like, after all.

As for being a cat in the first place, it was a curse, as sure as anything. But like the last witch in the story of Sleeping Beauty, it was a curse that could mend, a lesser of two evils. Being a cat was far better than dying, after all.

The other curse wasn't completely gone; he could still feel his heart painfully constrict when things weren't going right. But being a cat had saved him, so he'd live with it.

If he felt things getting too heated, he could bang some nails into wood, or take on his cat form and scratch something until his heart stopped hurting. If he didn't feel like dealing, if he wanted to be human, he could stay and work late on new cat trees and other things in his workshop. Graves hadn't stopped him yet, and he doubted that would change any time in the near future.

Still, he missed living a normal life: seeing movies, visiting friends, heck, even cooking his own bad meals.

One day, maybe, he'd be able to reclaim the life he once lived, or better yet, travel off to somewhere else and start a new life far away from any hint of magic.

In the meantime, he'd work within the restraints he'd been given, and simply make the best of it.

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It was too late to rekindle her relationship with her grandfather as a human. Mason knew that before she first crept inside the shop. The words her grandfather shared only confirmed that fact.

Still, she could start anew with him like this. Just like how she was starting a new life at work.

She would do things right this time, even if the methods were a little unorthodox. She'd cook his recipes at the café, and add her own spin where she could. She'd listen to his woes as a cat, and find a new way to connect.

And otherwise, she'd keep her two homes separate. That way, nobody got hurt.

It wasn't what she expected when she chose to come home, but somehow it was better than she could have imagined.

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If you had told Finley five years ago that she'd magically turn into a cat, she wouldn't have believed you.

If you had told Finley five years ago that she'd be a popular YouTube sensation, she would have believed you even less.

And yet, here she was. Somewhat mild-mannered waitstaff and social media guru Finley by day, internet superstar Jelly Doughnut by night. It was awesome. It was crazy. It was like someone had taken a bunch of video

And, okay. Maybe it would've been nice to be able to do her own laundry, or not to have to hire a cleaning service once a month to take care of an apartment that she couldn't fully enjoy, or to be able to play console games without having to steal Graves' TV. But she had friends, she had admirers, and she had a job that came with all the free food and drink she could want.

Five years ago, she wouldn't have even dreamed of this life. Now, she wouldn't give it up for the world.

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There were lots of good things about being a cat.

When everything was too much, he could just curl up in a corner, and know that nobody would mind or expect anything of him. When there were too many people around, he had a way of interacting that didn't involve trying to make small talk. And when one of the other cats was upset, he could comfort them in a way that just didn't work as well when human.

Being a cat helped his general anxiety a lot. And jumping back and forth was slowly helping his social anxieties as well. It wasn't perfect, not by a longshot, but Hayes knew he was at least a little better socially than he'd been when he first found A Cat's Paw.

There were some drawbacks, though.

He missed his family. Even if he'd moved out during undergrad, both of his fathers worked on-campus, and he'd been home to visit almost all the time. But now… now he couldn't give them more than a phone call, even if they still weren't all that far away.

Was it weird to be homesick when you hadn't actually left? Hayes wasn't sure, but it made him understand the way the new cats sometimes cried in the evening or first thing in the morning.

But even if he wasn't sure he could find the courage to ask his coworkers for hugs or comfort, he at least didn't mind giving it to the cats in need.

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Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince.
He was cruel, because aren't all princes cruel?
And he was greedy, because aren't all princes greedy?
But one day, the cruel prince met with a wicked witch who cursed him for this life and eight lives after.
And when the prince woke up from a deep, dark slumber…

He wasn't sure anymore if the dream was a nightmare, or a bit of memory trying to peek through. Either way, it came often enough that he knew it by heart: the smell of the royal feast, the feel of his impossibly soft and fluffy bed, the way his attendants would scurry like mice at his every command, the way the way the witch would cackle as everything swirled into darkness.

This time, he was awoken by the sound of Avery coming home.

His ears pricked again as the can opener thrummed, and his nose picked up the scent of… tuna?

Standing up, he tensed, giving one large stretch upwards, and then downwards with his forepaws close the floor before jumping off his perch and going to investigate dinner tonight.

Maybe he wasn't a prince in this life, but so long as there was tuna on the menu, he was fine just the way things were.

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Of course he was never a cat. What a question!

He'd had a boyfriend, once, who was fond of the creatures. Obsessed, really. It may not have been what ended their relationship, but it may have been a contributing factor.

But no. Nacht had no interest in cats.

Cat statues, on the other hand, now those piqued his interest.

And really, the more lifelike the better.

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Once, Avery Grey had balked at the idea of being a cat. They doubted that anyone would blame them for that: after all, who wakes one morning expecting to have long, super-sensitive whiskers growing out of their face?

Once, Avery was afraid of the idea. There were a few nights where they dreamed of being trapped as a cat somewhere in a back alley, before their nightmares started centering more and more around rust.

But now, the curse was lifted. Now they could come and go as they pleased. And now, Graves was working with them to create a softer version, which would let them tap into the transformation at will.

It was a scary moment, awaiting their first change. They almost called it off two or three times. But Landry and Hayes were already transformed, ready to catch them and help. Mason watched on with Finley, who had her phone camera ready to record the most auspicious occasion. And Reese, well, his eyes were on Graves, who in turn was watching Avery encouragingly.

And then, they felt their form contracting, shifting, morphing into something new.

At home that night, Avery would watch half in awe the video of a silver tabby with eyes a purplish brown took its first shaky steps.

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They were cats but also humans.

They were adept witches with an array of powers, slowly gaining proficiency in their chosen knacks.

Finley was convinced they should be superheroes, keeping watch over the magical underbelly of the city, and it didn't take much for them all to agree.

They'd already bested one destructive magical force, after all. Who knows what else they could do.

The curse may have brought them together, but their kinship and teamwork made them unstoppable.

And together, they'd use their powers to change the world for the better, one paw at a time.