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My name is Voldemort Von-Poopenberg and I am, what humans would describe, as a gray, flat-faced, long haired Persian cat. Our pet human, Y/n, can't decide on whether to call me ugly or cute, however I have heard the words: 'so ugly he's cute' come from her.

Today is that day humans call Valentine's Day. And today is the day I claim my title as alpha. After BooBoo's departure, Steve had taken over as main male four-legger in the household. I now find myself to be a bit miffed by this. Madam SparklePuss is queen, what did we need a male alpha for? Women are as equally capable of leading as men are. And I'm not just saying that because Madam Sparklepuss is my mate.

We have no need for one, yet Steve prances to and fro and tries to issue orders. As the patriarch, BooBoo always had first dibs on Y/n. That meant petting, cuddling, play time, scenting, and whoever got their bowl filled with food first. At the beginning, I was fine and dandy with Steve in this role. He's my elder so that does warrant some measure of respect.

However, my confidence in his new role was tested day by day. Each and every time he mentioned the dog man. Namjoon is all Steve ever talks about. Namjoon is not our pet.

Y/n is our pet. She is our first priority. BooBoo made that blatantly clear before he had to leave. He said we had to put her first in everything. The word hardly needed to be spoke aloud; Y/n is precious to all of us. Not to mention vital for our survival.

Y/n means a lot to me. She saved my life. Not so long ago, I was an orphan roaming the streets, fighting to survive in a civilization that does not cater to our kind. All the humans I was acquainted with before were harsh, coarse and disparaging, seldom passing me a glance or exhibiting any form of sympathy.

Life at that time was burdensome, rough. Cold. Always so cold. Even though I was but a child, no one gave a care that I was malnourished, my fur was thin and patchy, there was a recurrent cough that plagued me, and my tail had been broken.

I loathed humans. They were unkind and they harmed me. I detested my own kind. They stole what meager scraps of food I could find or I caught and they bullied me. I abhorred rats. They were dirty and didn't taste all that swell, but the sole time I was happy as a child was when I was hunting them.

Then one day in the dead of winter, I was shivering next to my favored dumpster outside of this building where humans get food. There was a human there who tried to greet me, but at that point in my life I didn't trust humans as far as I could throw them, and I couldn't even pick them up. He was the first human to ever give me food.

At the outset, I thought perhaps he meant to poison me, or catch me when I approached. On the contrary, he recognized that I wasn't going to draw near as long as he was in close proximity to the plate of scraps he had brought forth, and so backed away from it.

As he left I remember hearing him mutter under his breath, "the last thing Y/n needs is more cats, but she'd disown me if she found out you were here and I didn't tell her."

Later the same evening I was gratefully full, but exponentially colder than before, due to the rain that had begun to pour from the sky.

That's the first time I saw her. Y/n. Her eyes lit up the moment they met mine and unlike every human I'd ever come across before, she expressed joy and happiness when met with the pitiful sight of my beat up body.

"Hi baby! You're so tiny! Aren't you cold? Come out and let me help. Are you a girl or a boy? Doesn't matter. Y/n unnie—or noona—will take care of you."

She was different, but I was too afraid to come out from beneath the dumpster I'd hidden under to escape the rain. I'd been kicked and stepped on by humans enough times to know better than to trust them.

Twas raining and freezing that day, the cold seeping down to my bones in a way that unfortunately, I'd become accustomed to. At least I was sheltered (even if it was a filthy garbage bin), but Y/n was not. The only sort of protection she had from the cold and wet was a jacket with a hood, but soon enough that was soaked through. Her father came out twice, trying to convince her to try again another day but she was persistent, claiming it was fine if she got sick as long as she got me.

She's loony. That was my first impression.

That day she looked me in the eyes and promised she would love me and take care of me and would never hurt me. Of course I didn't believe her.

As the day wore on and the temperature dropped, Y/n didn't leave once. Actually, she'd taken her lunacy one step further by lying flat out on the pavement and sticking an arm under the dumpster. It took me quite a bit to gather enough courage to smell the offered hand. Her scent is different than other humans. Once I got to know my fellow brethren, there was one thing we could all relate to. Y/n smells trustworthy. There's something in her scent that is inviting and warm. My feline counterparts are drawn to Y/n because of that.

When she stuck her hand under the dumpster, the back of it resting in a pool of dirty water, while her palm welcomed me in a non-threatening way, I'd only intended to get a good sniff so that I could figure her out. And yet, something inside screamed at me to go to her and before I knew it, I'd left my makeshift shelter and straight into her arms.

Her hands were gentle. They stroked my filthy hair in a way I'd never felt before, but I definitely took enjoyment from. Rushing inside the building, she promised that everything was going to be alright and she put me in her pocket as she approached her father.

"Lee Y/n!" he gasped at the sight of her, and immediately went to scolding. Fearful of the sudden threat, I hid deeper into her pocket so that I couldn't be sighted. "You said you were going home! Have you been out there this whole time?!? You're soaked through your jacket! What did you do, roll around on the ground out there? What were you thinking? Do you realize how sick you're going to be tomorrow?"

"Dad, none of that matters. I have a cat."

"For the last time, cats are not the only things that matter in life."

I wondered what was happening between the two of them because for a moment, all I could hear were the sounds of pots and pans clanging and the sizzling sounds of cooking.

"I'm sorry I said that," her father eventually apologized. "I'm just worried. Look at you."

A year later and I still feel bad about how sick she was for the next week. But I wouldn't take it back. I couldn't. She kept all of her promises and more. She gave me a home, a name, a family, groomed my fur coat so that instead of the formerly brittle and patchy mess, and I was now in possession of a glorious, long, and fluffy mane. All that, and she introduced me to my mate. Madam SparklePuss is the most beautiful and strong woman in this world. We don't want children like some couples do. But she is my partner for life, and someone I would be glad to snuggle and sleep with eighty five percent of the day, for the rest of my days.

Now, back on topic.

Steve as patriarch is not working for me. I've attempted to speak with him on this matter in several failed attempts. The last time I was very cross with him but Steve insists he only takes orders from the queen. Madam SparklePuss ruled that this was a male issue, and if we wanted to claim the top rank, we would have to fight for it.

She is a fair and just. A good queen.

I haven't fought since my street dwelling days and was put off by the idea, even if every time Steve mentioned the dog man my fur stood on end. Experience was on my side, but Steve is my elder.

I didn't have the confidence to fight him. Until today.

Y/n never fails to buy us gifts on human holidays and on our adoption days. The gifts range from new collars, treats and toys.

Steve got a mouse-shaped toy stuffed with catnip. Lucifairy got one of those balls with the tiny bells inside. Madam SparklePuss got her favorite brand of can food.

Today I got a bright red collar that resembles a bow tie.

"OhMYGOSHYOU'RESOHANDSOME!!!" Y/n squeals as she adjusts it until it feels comfortable around my neck. "Namjoon-ie, take a picture!"

The dog man sighs and snaps a picture on her phone of the two of us before handing it back over.

"Voldy, look! It matches your fur perfectly." I stare at the phone in her hand. She's right. I look....perfect...handsome...glorious.

I LOOK MAJESTIC.

A burst of confidence shoots through me as I hop from her arms down to the couch. Fur puffed in every direction, I stand proud as I imagine that the sofa is a rock overlooking the ocean, sea spray and wind ruffling my thick, magnificent coat.

Y/n squeals once again and begins shooting pictures as I pose, feeling more proud of myself than I ever have before.

"Yes, Voldemort, JUST LIKE THAT!" I half turn toward the camera and pick one paw up. "Oh my god! You're so handsome!" Lifting my head up, I present a good view of the bow tie while slightly curling my tail. "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!" Y/n snaps picture after picture, often screaming gibberish. I lay on my back and stretch, the thick fur of my chest standing and making me feel manlier. Once through with that, I spring to my feet and turn my back to Y/n, sending a smoldering look over my shoulder. "HOLYFUCKINGSHITOHMYGOD!! Namjoon, are you seeing this? He's posing for pictures!"

"Yes, I—Steve can you get your butt out of my face?"

WHAT! I turn to find just that—Steve greeting the dog man this way makes me lose it. How dare he!! Has he gone mad?!? Only Y/n gets to have our posteriors in her facial zone! And to do this right in front of her! The nerve. Even Lucifairy, the most unhinged of us all, has the decency to look scandalized.

That's it.

"I, Voldemort Von-Poopenberg challenge Steve to a duel, with the winner to be declared the new alpha of the house."

These aren't words spoken aloud like humans would, or even as feline to human. We speak our own language. The humans in the room, unaware of the tension between us, go on with their own conversation.

"The fuck?" Is how Steve responds to my challenge. "Bitch, you wanna fight? I'll fight you! I'll beat yer ass right now, motha fucka!"

So insolent. The vulgarity. I shall not be drawn down to his level of depravity and so therefore, do not take the bait. With a meaningful look to my mate, she nods, understanding that we're going to need a distraction. She jumps onto the armchair and begins an attempt to vomit. Excellent. Humans really hate that.

Unnoticed, Steve and I race off to the upstairs corridor. In no time we're standing at either end, locked in an intense stare-down. I stand as tall as I can, the new collar fueling my pride and confidence to a previously unattainable height. Both of our fur puffs out and this shows the considerable difference between us. Steve has always had short hair and so there isn't much to see. For me, its makes me look twice as big.

For the first time, Steve looks apprehensive. "Yo, what's good bruh? Why we beefing?"

"Steve! Unless you want to concede to me, then we aren't here to speak." Irritated, my tail swishes furiously behind me.

With a low growl, he exposes the whites of his teeth. Taking this to mean he's ready, I shorten the distance between us. Launching myself through the air, I give a war cry of, "AVADA CATavra!"

This new collar is powerful. I am beautiful, mighty, and feeling more like a lion than a house cat. I am going to WIN.

We roll around, hissing, spitting, biting and scratching. It's a blood bath!

Without any blood. Fur flies about, this way and that, and kicks to my stomach are Steve's prominent form of offence, and it's a good one. But one I'd learned to maneuver around before. In a flash I was on his back and biting the back of his neck.

"Whoa man, calm yer tits!" Steve howled as I bit down harder. "FINE, YOU BE ALPHA I DON'T FUCKING CARE ANYMORE BITCH!"

I unlatch but don't move to release him. "Who is more important, Y/n or the dog man?"

"What? Bitch get off me."

"ANSWER!"

Steve hisses. "I can't answer that."

"That's why this had to be done."

Releasing him, I begin to groom myself to look presentable once again. Another growl is aimed in my direction, but I refrain from sparing a single glance back at him.

"Yo man, that was fucked up what you just did there." With an angry jerk of his tail, he begins limping off. "You fucked me up! I'm snitching on you—wait till Y/n hears about this!"

Finishing up with one paw, I switch to grooming the other, licking and then swiping it over my head to straighten the hair there. "Stop lying, Steve. I didn't even touch your paws."

He stops, resting the 'hurt' paw on the floor, spitting out a, "whatever, go fuck yerself." before skipping off, his movements now free of limping.

That degenerate. When I feel adequately decent, I strut my way back to the lounge, turning this way and that to present my new title and collar. All three ladies in the room ooh and ah, the loudest being our pet, Y/n. I'm not the biggest fan of human touch. Therefore, Y/n is the sole human allowed that right.

She's given me so much and more, and my new wish in life is to repay her for everything. It will be an impossible venture and I know it. Despite the knowledge, I'm going to love and take care of her forever and ever.

P.S. This collar is bitchin.

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Edited 6/2/22