⭐️💫 pfp by hollowsatellite

Tiresias was meditating in the garden of Circe’s island, blindfold in place, robes neatly arranged, breathing steady—until something itched.

Specifically: his head. Then his back. Then—his tail?

His what?

Hermes, lounging nearby on a low stone wall, watching the clouds go by and tossing grapes into his mouth, paused mid-throw. His golden eyes narrowed.

“Tiresias,” he said slowly, “don’t move.”

Tiresias, naturally, moved. And Hermes saw them.

Two soft gray ears, poking out from under the prophet’s dark hair, twitching side to side like little fuzzy satellites. And then—a tail. Long, sleek, swishing behind him, flicking irritably as Tiresias sat perfectly still, clearly aware something was wrong but not sure what.

“Are you—” Hermes leaned forward, eyes wide, then completely lost it.

He doubled over, laughing, nearly falling off the wall. “By the Fates! You have ears! And a tail! Is this—did Circe do this? Was this me?! No, I would remember this! Oh gods, you’re a cat!”

Tiresias’s face turned an impressive shade of crimson beneath his blindfold. He lifted a hand to touch one ear—and flinched when it twitched under his own fingers.

“I am not—meow—a cat,” he snapped.

Hermes froze.

Tiresias blinked. “Meow?”

“Oh no,” Hermes whispered, eyes shining. “Do it again.”

“I said I am not a—meow—cat!”

Hermes howled with laughter, sliding off the wall entirely. “This is the best day of my immortal life!”

Tiresias stood abruptly, tail puffing in pure offense. “Stop—meow—laughing!”

“You can’t be serious right now!” Hermes cried, rolling on the grass. “You're meowing, Tiresias! You—you're the sacred voice of Apollo and you're meowing!”

“This is a divine—meow—mishap!” Tiresias shouted, stamping one foot. “I am going to—meow—curse you!”

“Meow!” Hermes echoed gleefully.

“Stop—meow—mocking me!”

Hermes clutched his ribs, tears in his eyes. “You even hiss when you’re mad now!”

Tiresias’s tail lashed again. His ears twitched wildly. “I am going to find Circe—meow—and make her undo this!”

Hermes finally composed himself, wiping his eyes. “No, wait, don’t. I need a few more hours of this. Maybe a day. Maybe eternity.”

Tiresias bared his teeth. “Hermes, I swear by every meow-blasted constellation—”

“Aw, don’t be mad,” Hermes said, draping an arm around his shoulder. “You’re adorable. You’re the purr-fect prophet.”

Tiresias hissed.